Chapter 8

I joined mother on the balcony for breakfast, as had become our habit. I was getting to know most of the palace, though there were still some areas of it with which I was not familiar. Jordan had left two days ago and I was looking forward to the twins visiting the next day.

I had woken with quite a case of morning wood. A couple of years ago I would have taken care of it myself before breakfast, but a regular diet of Jordan and Desiree had made me less inclined to do for myself.

As I entered the hall which led to he balcony one of the maids, likely here to act as a server for breakfast, noted my presence. Since she was not yet carrying anything she stopped and curtsied. I had not seen her before, or at least had not specifically noticed her. Like all of the palace maids she was dressed in a scooped neck dress which showed lots of cleavage. Her very full skirt hung several inched above her knees. She had curly brown hair and was fairly pretty. Come to think of it I had not seen an ugly or even plain female servant since arriving.

As she curtsied I got a good look down her top. She was fairly close to me and suddenly all I could think about was how good she smelled. I swear I got a boner right there.

I saw her eyes drop to my crotch and felt my face get hot in shame.

“I could take care of that for you Your Highness,” her sweet voice said. She was still holding her skirt and pulled it up high enough so that I could see she was not wearing panties.

“Ah, thank you...”

“Marie, Highness.”

“Thank you Marie, but the regent is waiting.”

I went through the open double doors and noted, that as usual, mother was already seated. I thought she looked especially appealing. She was dressed in what I had come to think of as typical Mariner woman’s business wear. That is a top which showed her assets very well under an open jacket, with a short full skirt and CFM heels. She was wearing a couple of jewel pins in her hair.

I as passed her her eyes lingered at my still prominent boner and I saw her smile.

“Good morning mother,” I said, as had become my habit in the short time I had been here.

“Good morning James,’ she frowned slightly. “I was hoping that with Jordan gone you might come and visit me last night.”

“Visit your rooms after dark? Wouldn’t that cause talk?” I asked.

“No one would be surprised, but the preferred way would be to take the secret passage.” She stopped as Marie came with a carafe of coffee. She poured one for each of us and went back inside.

“The secret passage? Like in Hollywood palaces?” I inquired as soon as she was gone.

Mother slapped her forehead. “I keep forgetting how much you still need to be told. I’ll send Desiree to you tonight. She is one of the few not in the immediate family who knows the whole system. Actually I guess that means other than myself now.”

Marie and another servant reappeared. They brought plates of hot food. I noted that I needed to get some exercise if all of these good calories weren’t going to go to fat.

“Do we have a gym or something?”

“Of course. Ask Allen to take you there after our morning lesson. I have a meeting with the Prime Minister and the cabinet for lunch today over at the House of Lords.”

I had this lesson already. Twenty-four lords made up the House. The Prime Minister, who was not a lord, headed the civilian bureaucracy. The royal house of princes, the House of Riogati, could propose legislation or simply decree. The prince also had veto power over the House because he had to sign legislation for it to go into effect. There was no veto override. Eventually after the coronation I would have to countersign all of the legislation mother had approved during her regency, to make it permanent.

Though only one third the land area of Chicago, Mariner was divided into three counties, each headed by, well, a count. The other twenty-one lords held patents as barons. I was technically a duke, though it was customary to prefer to me as Prince James. If I had brothers or sisters they would have been dukes and duchesses. By tradition we did not sit in the House.

Jordan would be technically Lady Jordan, though I don’t think she knew that yet. I intended to make her a dame during her Christmas visit, in light of what she had given up to protect me, her parents, and because she had always watched out for me at St. Broadricks Academy and after.

“So how come one of the maids just offered herself to me in the hall?”

“Was that why you were sporting that delightful boner when you walked out here?”

“Mother you do so have a way with words.” She gave me her evil grin.

“She’s a Mariner woman isn’t she? I bet you haven’t had sex since Jordan left. Isn’t that true?”

I nodded. “So it’s not like I’m that used to sex every day.”

“It’s part of the whole genetics thing. Just as your pheromones make us desire you, our pheromones make you desire us. The palace fairly reeks with female pheromones due to the large number of female servants and functionaries here. As your half-sister, Desiree particularly excretes large amounts of pheromones. Sometimes, as with you its all I can do not to jump her.”

“It affects women too?”

“Of course. Why do you think so many Mariner women are bisexual?”

Desiree was present for our lessons today, which were to cover Mariner finance and industry. Before we got started I had a question.

“I saw the Mariner article in Wikipedia. It has a very nice picture of mother and father. Why does it say I’m dead or missing?”

“Because we haven’t really released news of your return outside Mariner yet,” Desiree said. “Or inside really. Most of the peers know about you, but we won’t make the announcement of your return until just before your Introduction.”

“Half the maps on the Internet show our lands are part of Switzerland.”

“Oh, the Swiss government knows very well we exist,” Cecelia said.

“Our numerous Swiss bank accounts attest to that,” Desiree stated. “As well as the server farms that support about a third of the Swiss banking industry.”

“Public disclosure does not serve us,” Cecelia said. “We have existed for centuries by staying out of the common mind of most of the world. Which is just fine. In modern times we have resisted getting involved in international politics, like the Swiss.”

“We typically interact with other nations through our financial and technical representatives. Such as the Winthrope Group,” Desiree continued managing to bring the subject back around to what we were suppose to be discussing today.

I sat looking at some of the papers I had been given.

“This can’t be right. The per capita income of your citizens is $150,000?”

“They’re your citizens now,” Cecelia corrected. “Yes it is. Like Ecuador and Timorleste we use the U.S. Dollar as our official currency. Before the Eurozone we used the Mariner Franc. There was a push to join the European Economic Community, but fortunately you grandfather put a stake in that.”

“Much of our economic activity is external,” Desiree said. “Other countries and foreign corporations pay us to host their software and applications. Typically these are databases and financial software. But we also take much of the profit from those endeavors and invest it in foreign markets, particularly in technology.”

“But if their income is so high how do we fill servants and other low wage positions. In places like Saudi Arabia and Monaco they hire foreigners to do those jobs.”

“We just pay decent wages,” Desiree said. “Do you remember Debbie the receptionist at J.P. Barlett and Associates?” I shook my head. “She was making probably more than any receptionist in Washington that wasn’t spreading her legs for her boss. Though she would if you asked nicely. She was making Mariner pay. All of our employees do. We can afford it and they show their appreciation through loyalty.”

“And the odd sexual favor?” I chimed in.

“That’s up to them,” Desiree said. “Taxes are taken at the corporate end. The actual hardware is owned by the crown and administered by companies owned by us. So no income tax.”

Desiree joined me for lunch in my sitting room. The table there was just the right size for an intimate meal with one or two friends. The kitchen staff delivered to my suite and Allen served.

“Are you looking forward to Emily and Jessica’s visit?” Desiree asked over desert.

“Yes actually. I barely had a chance to meet them in Maryland.”

“Before I whisked you away. I hope I’m forgiven for that.”

“It had to happen eventually,” I said, resigned now. “What do the twins do when they’re not jetsetting?”

“They have a villa.”

“Together?”

“They seem awfully attached to each other. They might just be able to carry out the sister-princess consort thing.”

I thought about whether I should ask more. “How well do you know them?”

“I know everything about them. It’s my job. Would you like your official brief now?”

“Official brief?”

“You’ll get one on all the perspective brides before meeting them.”

“Don’t you need a power point or something?”

“No,” she said in her delightful Mariner accent tapping her temple with her index finger, “It’s all here.”

“Ok,” I said scooping up the last forkful of desert.

“Jessica Bianchi, daughter of Gian and Sofia Bianchi. 27. Bachelor of Arts in History. Attended Boston College in The United States. Has been working as a fashion model since her freshman year in college.” She looked at me. “How personal do you want?”

I shrugged.

“Bisexual. Known to have been fairly promiscuous until the age of 25. After that she seems to have calmed down a bit.”

“How did she and Jordan meet?”

“I believe Jordan was sent to coordinate a conference in New York. Jessica and her sister were hired as hostesses, to direct conference goers around, demonstrate hardware that kind of thing. They were asked to make Jordan’s acquaintance. By me.”

“How well do they know my mother?”

“Well the Prime Minister and his wife have often been guests at the palace. They’re very close to your mother.”

“Close?”

“She does hot threesomes with them.” She looked at me and winked. “I knew Sissy should have led with the hot sex gene stuff.”

“Moving on,” I said, ignoring my burgeoning hard on under the table. “How about the twins? Are they intimate with my mother?”

“Possibly,” she said. Then after a moments thought added, “Most probably.”

“That could be complicated. Emily?”

“Emily Bianchi, Daughter of Gian and Sofia Bianchi. 27. Bachelor of Science in Applied Physics.”

“Emily is a physicist?”

“Technically she did work in material science concerned with semiconductor chip fabrication.”

I shook my head. I was seeing the twins had depths that was unexpected.

Desiree continued. “Also went to Boston College. Like her sister she has been working as a fashion model since her freshman year, though she has also done some consulting work in materials science. Also like her sister she is bisexual. Collectively they have a reputation of ganging up on sexual partners and basically destroying them. Personally I can attest to their capabilities in that area, and say its worth the price of admission.”

“What’s that?”

“They both have to like you. I think you’ve got that down. They wanted you just after talking to Jordan before they got a whiff of your pheromones.”

Allen cleared away the dishes.

“Are you busy this afternoon?” I asked.

She perked up. “Nothing I can’t put off. Feeling lonely?” Desiree shimmied her torso. She had changed for lunch from the slutty business suit she had been wearing for our morning meeting to more traditional Mariner dress. I noticed how the scoop top was tight enough to show all her assets but still allowed her breasts to swing wondrously when she did that.

“As lovely as that would be, the regent mentioned you might show me the secret passage.”

“Ah. I was wondering if you knew about it. I was hoping for a visit last night since Jordan’s gone.”

She strode over to the suite door and clicked the lock.

“This is almost state secret level. Many know about each particular door, but the system itself is not public knowledge.”

On the way back she stopped next to me and laid a blistering kiss on me. I could feel her rubbing against my hard dick.

“Sorry,” she said. “I almost lost control. Damn hormones.”

She took my hand and led me into the bedroom. Instead of proceeding to the bed she went to the bookcase. She reached high and I saw her push a piece of the trim. She then grabbed the side of the bookcase and it swung open.

Beyond I saw a dark corridor.

“Go on in,” she said.

When we got inside she pulled the disguised door closed behind us. Suddenly, LED lights came on to reveal a long passage behind the walls. The floor was carpeted and I could not hear even Desiree’s three inch CFM heels.

There were doors every dozen feet or so. Next to each door was a little flat screen display.

“How was this built? How could nobody know about it?”

“It was part of the original building when it was built in the nineteenth century. The regent had it renovated five years ago. We brought in foreign workers. They were told it was for a bordello. They came into the palace grounds in enclosed trucks and left the same way. Of course they thought they were in Serbia.”