Chapter 27

“Mother I’ve made my decision.”

We were sitting at breakfast in the Family Dining Room at the residence. Cecelia looked up waiting for me to continue. Desiree had joined us at breakfast as she did most mornings. She looked a little pensive. I think she knew what I was talking about. I knew that I’d have to come to some kind of understanding with her eventually. She was in love with me too.

“I could look for a long time and not find another consort as ideal as the twins. Even discounting the legend, prophesy, or whatever you want to call it. I believe they’re in love with me. They want to be consort. They have the skills and temperament to be consort. I admire and love them too. It is ideal.”

“Their libido is certainly great enough for Mariner consorts,” Cecelia said. “You must asked them. We can’t have an official public acceptance until you make sure they will actually accept.”

Fashion Week in Milan is the final week in February. Both girls were in Italy working the runways. Being a modern twenty-first century man I texted them. No I did not ask them by text. I texted them to see when I could talk to them both by phone. That turned out to be after 11:00 pm.

“I’m surprised that you girls have ended your evening so early,” I said.

“Don’t be silly James,” Emily said. We were video calling, so I had no trouble picking out who was who on the large flat screen in my bedroom. “We’re just taking a break to talk to our favorite man. We won’t get to bed until three am.”

“She means we won’t get to sleep until three am,” Jessica quipped. “Getting to bed may come much sooner than that.”

“Behave Jess,” Emily said.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves, besides doing all that tedious work on the runway. I saw you by the way. Someone was streaming it.”

“Yeah Jess was really hot,” Emily said.

“No Em was really hot,” her sister replied.

“So, when do you think you’ll be getting back home?”

“Well after Milan there’s Paris,” Emily said.

“We’re skipping New York’s Bridal Week this year,” Jessica said. “So I expect we’ll be back home sometime the second week of March.”

“I was hoping you’d come visit me at the palace. The consort suite is open.”

There was a pause. I could tell they were doing that twin’s telepathy thing.

“We’ll.”

“Be.”

“There.”

They said doing that twin sentence thing that drives me crazy.

“Have fun bad girls,” I said.

This visit the twins were not coming directly from the airfield to the palace. They had arrive the night before. It was the end of the second week of March. Based on the Fashion News they had both been run ragged for at least a month. That was not taking into account their likely extracurricular activities. A plenitude of other people’s Instagram and Facebook and Twitter feeds showed both girls enjoying a public hedonistic lifestyle suitable for a pair of international jet set models at two of the world’s fashion capitals during what were party weeks, as well as the industries most important gatherings. Being that it was the end of winter the styles at both Milan and Paris were spring and summer styles.

Prior to arriving at the palace they likely wanted to drop off a month’s worth of luggage and probable complimentary fashions and goody-bags at home and prepare for whatever I had cooked up for them in Mariner.

“There’s reason to be nervous,” Cecelia said to me as she pressed her naked body into mine.

She had spent the previous night in my bed. One of her obvious goals was to calm my nerves, which were at fever pitch. This was a monumental decision. Despite the examples of the British and Thai monarchies Mariner royalty was not prone to divorce, so pressure to get it right was pretty high.

“But no reason to be too nervous,” she continued. “I can see how they feel about you and you feel about them. It is a good match for Mariner.”

“What about the political fallout?” I asked.

Cecelia began to run her fingers over my nipple, making it hard to think.

“Oh, some people will be sure you’re only marrying them for political and propaganda reasons. The best response to that is to suck every last benefit from the propaganda and live as you would have anyway.” She leaned over and licked my nipple.

“Damn,” I moaned. “I thought we were getting up.”

She reached down to grasp my prick with her hand. “Seems like you’re up to me.”

Cecelia threw her leg over me and slipped my hard prick into her slit. Sitting up she began to slowly bounce on me. I reached down and dug my fingers into her hard ass.

“Oh I am sooo sorry I had to miss so much of this,” she confessed before she tumbled through her first orgasm this morning.

My mother kept me occupied for the next hour as she drew a half dozen orgasms for herself out of me before climbing off of me. She shimmied down until her face was right in my crotch.

“Look at all that nasty female cum juice,” she said. “Oh God. I’m so turned on I can hardly think.” She opened her mouth and took me in.

I felt her warm mouth envelop me. Down, down, down she went until every inch was passed her lips. I could feel her throat around my head. It massaged me.

“Damn mother. I’m going to cum.”

She half pulled off me. She could stroke my stalk with one hand while the other messaged my balls. She was grunting as I started to shoot and I saw a rash run up her body from her tits to her strawberry blond hair. She was trembling as I shot into her. I could see she was struggling to swallow my load down.

As I shot my last spurt she tumbled off me falling to the bed and assuming the fetal position. After she stopped shaking, which took nearly a minute she said, “Fuck! I came! I fucking came when you shot in my mouth.”

I had thrown my arms around her. I held her tightly to me.

“I love you mother,” I said.

“I love you so much, son. Those girls are so lucky to have you.”

The twins arrived before lunch and joined us in the Family Dining Room. Desiree absconded herself. I guess this was going to be a hard few days for her. I promised myself I would see to her after the hoopla of the next few days was over. Certainly before the formal engagement party.

After a light lunch I contrived to take the girls through some of the palace which they had not yet had a chance to visit, or at least not with me. I slowly made my way to the Medici Galley.

The Galley was full of items that the crown had procured from the House of Medici, either through direct purchase, acquisition or theft. The pieces included an early piano, some art pieces by Botticelli, and furniture which had been owned by Catherine de’ Medici. It also included some portraits of members of the line.

“James, do you know the Riogati took the side of the Medici against the Borgias at the end of the fifteenth century when Pope Alexander IV, Rodrigo Borgia, tried to drive them out of Florence so he could add it to the Papal States?” Jessica said. “I suspect they were afraid Mariner was next.”

I could always count on Jessica to know how Mariner fit in the history of Europe.

Now for a normal schlup, trying to find two matching engagement rings might be a problem. For the Prince of Mariner it was as easy as picking up the phone and getting Wilfredo Rosado on the line. Within just a couple of weeks I had two mirror identical 15 carat engagement rings. Yes I said mirror identical. The the complex twisted band design was asymmetrical and the rings were mirror image rather than identical.

Like most of the non-residential areas of the palace the Medici Galley had high definition security cameras. None of that twenty year old security camera crap that many places seem to feel adequate to protect their multi million dollar possessions. So I expected to get good HD video of what I was about to do.

I maneuvered the girls with their backs to the piano, a late Cristofori design. Then I dropped on my knee, holding a jewelers box in each hand.

“Emily. Jessica. Will you marry me?”

Both girls looked like they had been poleaxed. Their faces had a shocked expression. I could see the twin telepathy going on between them. Their eyes flashed to each other and their faces exploded with joy, happiness and excitement.

“Yes!” they both shouted at the same time.

I stood and they both jumped on me. Both boxes were open and I let each girl take her own ring. They exchanged a glance and Jessica handed me her ring and held out her hand. I gave Emily a quick glance and she nodded to me. I slipped the ring on Jessica’s left hand. Emily then handed me her ring and held out her hand and I slipped the ring on her left ring finger.

Emily then kissed me. After the nails in my boots melted she released me and Jessica proceeded to vaporize them.

“I was a little worried when I saw your first reaction,” I said.

“We were a little worried...,” Emily said.

“ ... what our sister would think.” Jessica finished.

Using my royal prerogative I used the secret passage to slip into Desiree’s rooms. I did not expect to surprise her.

“Shouldn’t you be with the presumptive consorts?” the tall black hair beauty said to me.

Desiree was dressed in a black lace trimmed Merry Widow, hardly the kind of garment a woman would wear to please herself.

“Expecting someone?” I asked.

“No, Why?” she responded.

I gestured at her.

“Oh this old thing?” she responded posing while arching her eyebrows.

I reached for her and said, “You are a very wicked girl.”

“The competition is grueling,” she said melting into me.

“You know you are very special to me,” I said kissing her.

“Ha,” she laughed when the kiss was finished. “Typical Riogati, a crowd of women waiting to jump into his bed at the drop of a hat, and he makes every one feel like she is the only one that matters.”

“I don’t wear a hat,” I teased.

“I so want you to take me, but that would not be fair to the twins tonight. They deserve your best. After the engagement party though I plan to get my due. Duty is a two way street you know.”

“Yes my little spy,” I said kissing her again.

“Now go, James,” she said. “Before my lust overcomes my duty.”

I slipped back into the passage.

The engagement party was to be a small affair more in line with the kind of function any other Mariner noble or upper middle class person might have.

“It will be held in the Pleasure Gallery,” Cecelia said.

“The Pleasure Gallery?”

“Well it’s actually named for your ancestor Prince Rudolfo, but no one calls it the Rudolfo Gallery,” she said.

As I have already described, the Mariner Palace is build around a quadrangle, similar to Buckingham Palace. Unlike Buckingham Palace the building in Mariner was originally designed and built as a single structure instead of a succession of buildings. It’s primary public entrance is to the north, with the public rooms located on that side. The residence is in the south. The East and West sides have long portico facing the central garden, with rooms to outside.

In the east structure was the Pleasure Gallery. This gallery consisted of an outer room facing the central garden to the west. Large glass doors, installed during my father’s time to replace the French Doors that were originally there, would allow the room to be open to the garden in the spring, summer, and early fall. At this time of early spring they would remain closed.

On the east side of this large drawing room were twelve large arches. Each arch led to a labyrinth entrance made up of a wall and an open entrance to the left or the right. These were covered by a heavy drape which could be tied open or left across the entrance. So each arch led to two rooms, one to the left and one to the right. Twelve arches, twenty-four rooms. Each room was furnished with a bed and led to a full bathroom which included a shower.

Couplings would be relegated to the pleasure rooms. At the evening’s beginning all curtains would be open. If the occupants of the room wanted privacy they would drop the curtain. If the curtain remained open then the occupants were open to others joining them.

The guest list would be restrictive. There was no way we could exclude the three counts and their wives. However their children and their spouses were not invited. As well, there were the Ricci sisters, who were friends of the twins. The Prime minister and his wife, the twin’s parents. My grandfather. My mother, the Dowager Princess. Desiree. Several other friends of the twins, whom I did not know very well, were also guests. I realized I had few friends in Mariner. There was someone who I ensured got on the guest list. That was Dr. Lucia Giordano and her husband, a physician. It ended up being about twenty couples

The evenings festivities would begin with the presentation of the Savar Pendants to the Bianchi sisters. The pendant in the National Museum was delivered under guard and would join the one my mother had.

Allen laid out my tux. No opera house outfit here. I’d have to struggle out of the outfit when it came time to play. At least it was only black tie. I remembered that though the rooms had no closet there were hangers and hooks where clothing could be hung.

Once in my own outfit I checked the time. I knew better than to be early at the twin’s door. When I got to the door I was surprised to see Marie open it.

“Isabel called in the reserves to make sure both of your ladies were perfect, Your Highness,” she said letting me into the sitting room.

Emily and Jessica stepped into the room. They were wearing identical evening gowns. The gowns were burgundy, wasp waists with long skirts split on both sides so that their legs showed as they walked. The A line-V-necks revealed their cleavage. The dress has held up by spaghetti thin straps.

Their curly brown hair cascaded down on their shoulders. Each girl had only the most necessary makeup. Their high cheekbones and ravishing eyes struck me breathless. I saw both were wearing the earrings that I had presented them with on St Nicholas’s Feast, which I knew would match exactly the Savar pendants.

“James, you really clean up good,” Emily said giving me the once over, matching the one I had given each of them.

“Shall we be off?”

I let them proceed me into the hall and then presented my arms for them to take. Emily stood to my right and Jessica to my left. Thinking back I realized that they always had done so. They only changed sides when one was alone with me.

We started the long promenade to the Pleasure Gallery, which was on the other side of the Palace.

“I think this will be a new experience for you James,” Emily said.

“A more formal orgy?” I asked.

“A more purposeful one anyway,” Jessica added.

“Can we expect you and Lucia Cantu to run off to a room?”

“I was hoping not,” I stated. “Lucia is certainly rather amorous I understand now that she’s just beginning to show.”

“Lucia is a slut,” Emily said. “I mean that in the nicest way.”

“I’m not sure that’s a statement that can be interpreted in a positive light,” I said. “Actually do you remember Dr. Giordano?”

“The woman from the National Museum?” Jessica said. “I thought she was going to jump you in the Travelers Hall.”

“Well I thought I might give her the chance this evening. She was ever so helpful.”

“And hot,” Jessica said. “In a sort of hot librarian kind of way.”

There would be no herald tonight or rendition of the Prince’s March. When we got to the Gallery we would simply entered. The look of the room was vastly different from the large scale orgies in the Ball Room. The small clusters of people were similar, but they were different too. The participants seemed more intimate somehow. For example I had seen Gloria Lastra and Aida Marchesi together at a gathering, locked in sixty-nine. Here they were quietly speaking to each other, Aida’s arm wrapped around the waist of the plumper woman, their eyes locked together as they spoke.