Court of the Crimson King
Copyright© 2025 by Fick Suck
Chapter 32
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 32 - When a cranky young veteran of the repulsed brutal invasion is found and returned to the Court of the Crimson King, he is shocked by the poor state of the kingdom. North is dragooned into the reigning queen’s retinue, a position fraught with politics, intrigue, magic, and hints of destiny. The Court is an intricate dance that one must master or else disappear into oblivion. Based loosely on the song of the same title by King Crimson.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa
“Do you think the Queen has become our enemy?” Paquin asked him as they sat on his bed.
“Not in the plain sense of the word,” North said. “I would argue in this way: our eyes have been opened by the seer, although I would like to believe that we would have come to the same conclusions on our own eventually. The Butcher caused great disruption. The most obvious is the war we barely won. The ripples continue though. Our Queen forever scarred is the most obvious after Mt. Albion. Then Soreng Ard turned traitor to the realm; again, the ripple is easy to trace. We have a decimated army, a decimated royalty, and a weakened House of Lords that tends towards chaos. There is no royal backbench. Adrianna Victorious wears the crown, and the blame and responsibility rests on her shoulders.”
“Yet the blood of the Crimson King runs through many of us. He had several mistresses and a lot of bastards,” Paquin said. “Many could claim enough royal blood to take the throne.”
“Only if they pass the guardian test,” North replied. “The Queen is the Master Mage and as such, she controls the who stands on the pathway to the throne.”
Paquin snorted. “Silly, autocratic nonsense wrapped in a notion of superiority that prevents challengers from arising.” She bounded off the bed and stepped into her panties. “Our Queen is pursuing her teenage obsession in hopes of getting pregnant. She believes that this child will be her royal heir?”
North stretched before rolling slowly off the bed. “Good on her. The gods know I don’t envy the successor to the throne. The quicker she gets in the family way, the easier I’ll rest.”
Paquin gave him an impenetrable look that he could not interpret. After squirming into her dress, she said, “What are you getting me for a bride’s gift?”
North pulled up his britches and buttoned them as he worked hard to overcome the shift in the conversation. He answered, “A house, in the city.”
“What? You can’t afford that,” she screeched.
“I beg to differ. Having consulted with the Lord Secretary of the Exchequer, he concurs the funds are available, and that said gift would resonate well within the Court. Unbeknownst to me, the Queen made reparations for my stolen pay with interest, back pay for my years wandering, and a bonus while I was chasing Soreng Ard. Although we are granted these rooms in the Tower, families are expected to relocate.”
“What are you thinking, Jack of Spades?”
North recognized that when she used his title, she was asking a serious question or making a statement of great import. “I’m thinking that I don’t want to raise my children on the palace grounds. I’m thinking that as closely as the both of us independently work with Her Majesty, we need our own space, removed from her immediate power.”
She buckled her shoes before responding. “You don’t want our brats mingling with her brat.”
“Yep,” North said, popping the “p” with his lips. “The only child of a widowed queen is not ideal.”
“How do you expect to pull off such a scheme without alienating our Queen is beyond my abilities, North,” she said. “I understand your concerns; I agree with them as this was my idea first. Perhaps, she will adhere to her noble heritage and veer away from your earthy, nigh rebellious, bloodline. My noble line is highly prized though.”
North grunted, having nothing in which to respond.
Paquin placed a hand on his heart. “When my parents die, hopefully many years from now, I will inherit their estate and their lands. We will be landed gentry. I know you take great pride in your military status earned through courage and merit, but our children will inherit a gilded path.”
“This isn’t going to be easy,” North admitted finally.
“No, but we are the Fire Witch and the Jack of Spades, and if anyone can rise above these obstacles, it’s us.” She kissed him and skipped out the door. “Tomorrow afternoon, in the mage archives: please don’t keep me waiting.”
Sitting at the back table in the Back and Down, North nursed a tankard. The conversation swirled around him with a buzzing incoherence as he mulled his choices. The tavern was half empty with the lords and their families taking advantage of her Majesty’s absence to travel to their estates as well. Half of the palace guard was gone, and most of the recruits were in the field being run into the ground.
“Where are you?” A familiar voice asked.
“A legion of leagues that away, Yellow Jester. Please join me.”
“You have returned a hero and chastened the Fire Witch yet here you are, drowning your sorrows in the bottom of a mug. What troubles the Jack of Spades?”
“I look at the coming years and I see troubles on the horizon,” North answered, relishing the cryptic words for a moment.
“Ah, you mean to say that it is easier to destroy things than to rebuild them afterwards,” Claudio said before taking a sip of his own mug. “The downfall of the mage warrior is when he has no more targets, but a field of regrets.”
“Not regrets, my friend, but a seer, an oracle, and a new clarity of the near future,” North said. “I went to visit my parents and spent time with my mother’s village and my extended family. They laugh like I laugh, and drink and sing and fight and work and rest like I do. I was deep in the embrace of home comfort there like I’ve never been here. Even more, Paquin felt at home too, relaxed and comfortable in the family bosom. Here, the knives are half out of their sheaths when the greater powers are out of town.”
“When the cat’s away, the mice will play,” Claudio said. “As her Majesty’s personal sword, you should take the initiative and chase the mice back to their little holes. Putting the little vermin in their place before she returns would be the respectful thing to do.”
“I thought her Majesty was getting tired of my impetuous little maneuvers. Has something changed?” North asked.
Claudio tapped twice on the table with his index finger “You misread her minor irritation. She wasn’t tired of your little maneuvers, but with the repetitiousness of them. There are many more lessons to be handed out; I can imagine a long list, myself. The Jack of Spades needs to always to be looking for fresh opportunities to offer new lessons of obedience to the Crown.”
“I was distracted with a few other obligations,” North said. “Stepping on insects crawling on the flat stones is a bit tedious and trivial when planning to take down a traitor.”
“A fine job you did,” Claudio said. “Then you return in the dead of night to whisk away the Fire Witch. All of which you topped when you returned with a new hair style and apparently magical underwear.”
“I am the Jack of Spades, and wherever I go, I go in comfort,” North said, allowing the smugness to reign for a moment. “The lords and ladies think that power, prestige and wealth are the best goals for the ambitious, when I know that comfort below the waist is the overwhelming favorite that no one here knew.”
“Where might a poor but good-hearted jester find such a pair of magical undergarments?” Claudio asked. “Surely, you would help one of your dear friends.”
“Our Queen controls the pathway, and she is unlikely to share that royal secret,” North said. “Perhaps she could send one of her trusted swords with a shopping list.”
“Unlikely,” Claudio said, mulling over the information. “I wonder if I could work this into a vignette for her entertainment? A coda to the pokey stick saga might do the trick.”
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