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From Lord Of Utterdom
The conversation between your father and the duke stems around the Duke of Shaern possibly being a traitor. The detail of the conversation begins to bore you, as your father attempts to dismiss the idea, and the Duke presses him to look into the matter. Besides, you're busy look at the Duke's wife, and trying to sort out how such a lovely thing came to marry such a fat little worthless bastard.
She was a very tall, slender woman, and though she must have been four decades into life, she had aged well. Her skin was porcelain white, and her black frock dress and short cut black hair accented the paleness of her beauty. She was thin, but her hips were wide set, and her bottom round and lovely. Her gigantic breasts nearly spilled over the low cut dress, and their white billowy creaminess were a thing to behold. Her eyes were line with coal black liner, the lashes dark and long and dark as soot, and her lips were painted a berry red. She had the regal look of a primal cat pasted to her face, but her green eyes darted to you for a moment when she caught you staring. She lifted a gloved finger to her lips and seemed to consider you for a moment.
You offered her a smile, and she offered you a blown kiss and a wink in return. Suddenly, something stirred in your nether regions as you thought of the prospect of stripping the dress off of her and-
"Don't you agree?" Said the king, interupting your thoughts.
You nodded, still eyeballing the Duke's lovely wife.
"Then it's settled. My son, the Prince, will have a look into this Shaera affair, and in return you will settle down and leave this to us." The king smiled proudly, and then patted you on the shoulder.
"Duchess," the King uttered, "Please excuse yourself to the great hall and have some wine while I discuss this matter further with your husband. Son," he said, turning to you. "Up to your room and prepare for the coming journey. See me again when you are ready."
You nod, and follow the Duchess out into the great hall.
