{"id":2902,"date":"2017-09-20T11:59:04","date_gmt":"2017-09-20T15:59:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/?p=2902"},"modified":"2017-09-20T11:59:04","modified_gmt":"2017-09-20T15:59:04","slug":"the-prnces-boy-chapter-55","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/?p=2902","title":{"rendered":"The Prince’s Boy: Chapter 55"},"content":{"rendered":"

Welcome to The Prince’s Boy<\/em> by Cecilia Tan, a tale of a prince and his whipping boy ensnared in a plot of dark erotic magic. Warning: explores themes of dubious consent and situations of sexual jeopardy. NSFW.<\/p>\n

A new chapter appears every Wednesday. This week is Chapter Fifty-Five: Kenet<\/b><\/p>\n

55: Kenet<\/span><\/h1>\n

\"kenet-theprincesboy\"<\/p>\n

I was aiding the General with a revised tally in the afternoon when a young soldier in a wide-brimmed hat came seeking him. I was surprised to learn that he was only looking for Roichal because he was hoping to find me. He introduced himself as Van, and as he swept off the hat once he was inside the tent I recognized him by his brown curls as one of the boys Harman had rescued from a Night Mage\u2019s keep. One of the eldest, and it appeared they had made a soldier of him, now that his eyes were adjusting to the light.<\/p>\n

Roichal exchanged a glance with me, as if to tell me he would be right outside if my virtue needed defending, but that he would leave us to speak in private.<\/p>\n

Indeed, Van wanted to speak in nearly a whisper. \u201cI want to ask your help. We know not who to turn to.\u201d<\/p>\n

I held one of his hands as we sat upon a chest. \u201cWhat do you need? I am no mage.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot that sort of help,\u201d he said, glancing back and forth. The flaps were up to let the air through, and I could see no shadows of anyone nearby. Roichal was whistling as he set to polishing his sword while sitting on the fallen tree outside. \u201cI hope… I hope you can gain the sympathy of the General for us.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you assuredly have that\u2014!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHear me out. We are mostly from a village called Pallin and the area east of the Serde. The men of that area used to fight raids from Pellon a hundred years ago and we still have a militia.\u201d<\/p>\n

A militia too weak to keep a Night Mage from preying upon children, I thought, but I said nothing, waiting to find out what his trouble was.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe militia is refusing to answer the General\u2019s call,\u201d Van said. \u201cThey are refusing to fight on behalf of the crown.\u201d<\/p>\n

I was dumbstruck for a moment, then blurted, \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n

Van glanced from side to side again. The wind was starting to whip up and I wondered if we might have a summer storm, as we often did on a hot day such as this. \u201cWhat we have heard is that they refuse fealty and tribute to a king that could not protect them from the attack of the mage.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat makes no sense,\u201d I said. \u201cFor if what they want is a strong army, they must send fighting men. And was it not the army that rescued you from the mage in the first place? Was that not adequate protection?\u201d<\/p>\n

The boy shook his head. \u201cWe do not know why the mage left the keep undefended when he did, though we were glad of the rescue. The soldiers at first made out as if they had driven him off, but I now doubt that was the reason.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut still\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe General means to send a troop of cavalry to put down the uprising before it spreads. Please, you must convince him otherwise! My own father and my eldest brother are there.\u201d Van\u2019s voice rose in vehemence, if not pitch.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow do you know all this?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am acting as Harman\u2019s own page now. I have heard him speaking with his seconds about it. They want his mounted scouts to accompany the action, as they know the area so well. The horsemen will move out tomorrow unless you can stop them.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sighed. \u201cDo your fathers and brothers know that you have been rescued? Wouldn\u2019t they prefer to join you here than to risk you becoming hostages of our own army?\u201d<\/p>\n

He blinked, brought up short by my question. \u201cHostages?\u201d<\/p>\n

Yes, I had been paying attention in at least some of Sergetten\u2019s lessons in statecraft and the mistakes of previous military campaigns in history. \u201cI cannot believe that Roichal would prefer bloodshed over some other way of bringing the militia to heel. Do your people know you are here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Van bit his lip. \u201cHarman said word would be sent to our families.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd have you heard directly from them? Have you received any letters or messages?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, no.\u201d His eyes were not focused on me, but on some distant place in his mind. \u201cPerhaps… perhaps they were never told.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr perhaps the word of the rebellion arrived here first.\u201d I could feel the tension rising in him, as if he were preparing to bolt like a rabbit. \u201cDo not even think of running away,\u201d I warned. \u201cYou are safe here, and even if you are held as bargaining chips, you will not be mistreated. You have the sworn word of the General on that, remember?\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked at me with a pained expression. The wind blew one of the flaps loose and it became suddenly dimmer in the tent.<\/p>\n

\u201cRoichal does not break promises. You need not fear for yourselves. But if you truly wish to prevent a fight between the army men and yours, you will go to Roichal yourself now and offer to write a letter to your father, asking him and the rest of them to join us.\u201d<\/p>\n

Van shook his head. \u201cI cannot write.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you shall dictate and I shall write,\u201d I said. I stood to call for the General just as a thunderclap deafened us. When my ears stopped ringing I could hear horses in a panic and men shouting, and a moment later the General burst in, just before another roll of thunder shook the air overhead.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet down the hill!\u201d he cried. \u201cGet down there, now!\u201d<\/p>\n

We ran with his arms at our backs, as if he could shield us from a bolt of lightning, down to Marksin\u2019s tent, which was the next closest. We were soaked to the skin from just the brief run down the hill, and as we reached the flap to go in, I looked back at the rise we had just come down. Was that why the tree had fallen? Lightning like a sudden claw raked the land, and I saw the tent collapse. A moment later, a dark funnel of wind began to twist from the sky toward the hilltop.<\/p>\n

\u201cDown!\u201d Roichal flattened me and the other boy, while the thunder felt as if it shook the ground. Or perhaps that was horses stampeding, I do not know. Van was screaming in terror, nearby trees creaked and groaned, the rain fell so hard as to be louder than my own harsh breath, and thunder rolled and rolled. The packed soil beneath me was turning to mud and I found my fingers sinking into it. Sergetten had told stories of the fierce storms of the plains, but this was the first I\u2019d experienced that was so sudden and so destructive.<\/p>\n

But I did not scream like the boy beside me. Perhaps because I believed Roichal truly would shield us from harm. It was easier to lie still and let the thunder vibrate through me. Fighting it would only lead to pain. I held onto the land below me, as the wind threatened to uproot us. The land. My land. My kingdom someday.<\/p>\n

In the flash of lightning that followed, though my eyes were closed, I could see the castle, a dark silhouette against the sky of Maldevar, the towers as sharp as the teeth of a wolf. Or the points on a crown.<\/p>\n

And then the wind ceased, suddenly lifting, though a final sheet of rain slapped us before I raised my head.<\/p>\n

Roichal got up cautiously, then helped Van to his feet. Marksin\u2019s tent was still standing, but many others were not. The sounds of distraught men and horses were loud, even as the raincloud, looking like a mountain, moved to the west, weakening.<\/p>\n

There was no time then to speak to the General of Van\u2019s plight, as we were pressed into immediate service, helping the wounded, freeing men from collapsed tents, and so on.<\/p>\n

It was nearly midnight before I collapsed, exhausted, onto the canvas floor of Marksin\u2019s tent. Marksin and Roichal came in not long after and Marksin lay down next to me, while the general sat upon the pallet. We were both still fully clothed, too tired to even remove our own muddy boots, but after a moment I nudged Marksin toward him. We each took hold of one of his boots and pulled them free.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow bad is it, Sir?\u201d I asked, as I set the boots aside.<\/p>\n

\u201cBad, Page, very bad,\u201d Roichal said, lying back on the pallet. \u201cTwo hundred armored men on horse couldn\u2019t have done as much damage as that twister did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI am as tired as if I fought them myself, too,\u201d Marksin added, cushioning his head on his bent arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre the storms always like that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve seen some strong enough to tear the roof from a barn and throw a horse to the next village, but none that swept up quite so suddenly,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

Roichal nodded in agreement. \u201cIt was as if it came to attack us.\u201d<\/p>\n

I took a deep breath. \u201cCan Night Mages call upon the weather?\u201d<\/p>\n

The general looked at me as I settled crosslegged next to Marks. \u201cI am not sure of all their powers, but it certainly seems possible. Why do you ask, Page?\u201d<\/p>\n

I closed my eyes for a moment, recalling perfectly the image that seemed burned into my eyelids, of the castle. \u201cI think a Night Mage sent that storm. I think it was Seroi.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now Roichal and Marksin exchanged a look. Marksin sat back up. \u201cThe Lord High Mage? Why do you think that?\u201d<\/p>\n

I could not explain the vision, though. I decided to take the conversation in another direction, the way my father would have done when he was not ready to explain something to a nobleman at his elbow. \u201cDid you know that the boys in Harman\u2019s care are the sons and cousins of the Pallin militia who are refusing to report?\u201d<\/p>\n

Marksin looked surprised, more by the change of subject than by the news, I guessed, but Roichal nodded. \u201cI learned so today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen you know there is no reason to use force to bring them to cooperate,\u201d I said. \u201cBloodshed will only weaken us further.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marksin frowned. \u201cWhat are you proposing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have them as defacto hostages. Though perhaps it need not even go so far, if their families are unaware of their rescue and their militia fights on thinking the cause hopeless in the face of Night magic.\u201d I began to take off my still damp uniform. The night was becoming chill in the wake of the storm, but staying damp would only make it worse. \u201cI can see no benefit at all to using force.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOther than to send a message to other areas that might be thinking the same thing?\u201d Marksin asked.<\/p>\n

I shook my head. \u201cBy the time the word of the action spreads, the story may be further twisted,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd if Seroi is spreading these rumors and stirring up this unrest himself, we only play into his hands by fighting amongst ourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marksin looked unsettled, but did not argue further. The general spoke next. \u201cWell, perhaps, but perhaps the militiamen are actually in thrall of a mage themselves? Should we not send a force to the area then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd end up ambushed as you were a decade ago?\u201d I said, my voice rising. Indeed, perhaps it was the exhaustion, combined with the peak of my emotion that caused me to say what I said next. \u201cI cannot let that happen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marksin looked back and forth between me and Roichal. Roichal merely gazed steadily at me, a quiet challenge.<\/p>\n

I was down to only my trousers, but I got to my feet. \u201cYou do see the sense in what I am saying?\u201d I essayed, giving him one last chance to capitulate.<\/p>\n

His gaze never wavered, a hint of amusement at the corner of his mouth. \u201cAnd if I do not?\u201d<\/p>\n

I had no choice. \u201cYou know who I am. Though I owe you for my safety and feel a compulsion of loyalty beyond measure to you, Sir, I am nonetheless, not to be denied.\u201d<\/p>\n

Roichal chuckled. \u201cI\u2019ve never allowed your father to force a strategy I disagreed with upon me,\u201d he said. \u201cI do not plan to start with his son.\u201d<\/p>\n

I folded my arms. \u201cBut you don\u2019t disagree with me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you sure of that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d I moved closer, so that my shadow cast by the lantern was not across his face. \u201cAm I wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are not wrong,\u201d he said with a laugh. \u201cVery well, my prince. I would not choose bloodshed unless we were forced to defend ourselves. What would you have us do instead?\u201d<\/p>\n

I outlined for him the letters I thought the boys should write. When I was finished, he nodded thoughtfully. \u201cA sound next step. But the letters will have to wait for daybreak, which will come far sooner than any of us might wish.\u201d<\/p>\n

Marksin groaned tiredly. Roichal gave him a hard pat on the shoulder. \u201cToo tired to feed our royal guest?\u201d<\/p>\n

The field marshal lay his head on Roichal\u2019s knee. \u201cWell, Sir, if the boy has the skill to rouse my prick, he is welcome to whatever he can suckle from it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVery well. No games tonight then, but Page, you should take some sustenance if you can.\u201d Roichal nudged Marksin toward me, then began to undress himself.<\/p>\n

Marks gave me a small amount of help getting him out of his damp things and then lay flat while I wasted no time taking him into my mouth. Then I slurped on my own fingers for a moment, getting them wet enough to slide inside him while I worked. Despite his tiredness, he was soon firming up in my mouth, and I used all I knew of him to bring him to a peak quickly.<\/p>\n

He was just beginning to twitch in my mouth, his skin breaking out in a sudden sweat so I knew he was close, when the sound of alarmed shouting reached us. I broke off, Marks and I both making hungry gasps, but there was no time to finish. I was still pulling my damp shirt back on when he raced out of the tent, the general right behind him.<\/p>\n

Outside I could smell the smoke and ash in the air, then turned and saw the glow of the wildfire from behind the rise. Men and horses were screaming. Roichal and Marksin were having a brief argument, won by Marks when he said, \u201cHe isn\u2019t safe with me, no matter what you order!\u201d<\/p>\n

Roichal\u2019s answer was a growl, and then to pull me up onto a horse with him, and the next thing I knew, we were racing away from the growing glow in the sky, my arms around him and my cheek pressed against his sturdy, bowed back.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

Are you enjoying The Prince’s Boy? Please please help other readers discover the magic of this story by leaving a review on Amazon<\/a> or Goodreads<\/a>. Thank you! <\/i><\/p>\n

About the author:<\/strong> Cecilia Tan is the award-winning author of many erotic books and stories and the founder of Circlet Press.<\/p>\n

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Welcome to The Prince’s Boy by Cecilia Tan, a tale of a prince and his whipping boy ensnared in a plot of dark erotic magic. Warning: explores themes of dubious consent and situations of sexual jeopardy. NSFW. A new chapter appears every Wednesday. This week is Chapter Fifty-Five: Kenet 55: Kenet I was aiding the … Continue reading The Prince’s Boy: Chapter 55<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[628],"class_list":["post-2902","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-serial-fiction","tag-tpb-serial"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2902","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2902"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2902\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2902"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2902"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/circlet.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2902"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}