Pluck't

Chapter VI

This prince was going to be Emil's undoing.  It took every ounce of self-control not to ravish the youth.  Oh, he wanted it, too.  That made it harder in every sense.  That pert nose sniffing around his neck almost drove him out of his mind.  He wanted to kiss those sweet, pouting lips and put his hands all over that slender, delicate body.

And that was before last night, when the innocent prince proved to have no shame whatsoever.  It was like no one ever taught him what to be ashamed of, which suited Emil just fine.  Too many people felt shame over the most natural urges.  It never made any sense to him.

He woke before the prince and watched him sleeping.  He had the face of an angel and the grabby hands of a skirt-chaser.  Emil would have to keep a sharp watch on the youth.  Even though it was a grand thing to feel no shame, there were people in this world who would take undue advantage of him, and he intended to return him to his royal mother intact.

Even if it meant sleeping on the floor from here on out.

He got up and tried to coax his cock down, speaking of urges.  After getting dressed, he laid out His Highness' shirt and breeches, then shook him gently awake.  He pouted in his sleep and curled up in a tight ball.  Emil chuckled.  "Milord," he said.  "We need to get on our way.  It's a few hours to Bricbor, and from there we rent a cart to take us to the castle."

Some time between here and there, Emil would have to find some money.  He could pick a few pockets, but it would be tough to scratch up enough to do everything they needed.  As it was, he had a single copper left.  It might get them a moldering piece of stale bread to share between them.  Maybe.

The prince finally dragged himself out of bed.  He looked around, and he sighed.  No doubt yesterday's horror had returned to him, along with his grief.  Emil winced.  He didn't envy the boy, though he did long to comfort him in ways he really shouldn't.

Toma managed to dress himself, and though he was able to comb his hair, he still has no idea how to braid it.  This time Emil showed him how, though he would have rather kissed those golden strands and buried his face in their softness.

He had to hand it to the youth, for a pampered prince who had never known a day's want, he was adapting quite quickly.  He ate the vastly inferior food without complaint, he learned to take care of himself without carrying on about someone else doing it for him.  Maybe he was in too much shock from what had happened, or maybe he was just one of those rare souls who took life as it came and adapted to face it.

Emil smiled his approval, and he said, "Very good, milord.  We'll tuck the braid into your cloak so no one recognizes you, lest someone want to hold you for ransom." 

Toma tilted his head curiously.  "How would I be recognized?  No one has ever seen me."

Emil replied, "Aye, but your beauty speaks volumes about our legendary Rose."

Toma's cheeks colored, and Emil grinned.  And pined inside.  He had become captivated by the youth's beauty, and he knew he was lost to it.  Still, he had to be strong!  It would only be a day and a half by foot to the castle, sooner still in a cart, then he could put all this behind him and go back to his whoring ways.

It's like the prince was reading his mind and wanted to complicate things on purpose; he came up to Emil and said, "About last night..."  Then he placed a kiss at the corner of Emil's lips.

All it took was a slight turn of his head and Emil took the kiss full on the mouth, then deepened it, his hand slipping around the nape of Toma's neck to hold him in place.  Those lips were as sweet as he imagined, and the youth inexpertly tried to respond, but all he knew to do was press harder.  Sweet mercy, this was the lad's first kiss.  Emil coaxed his lips apart with his tongue, and he moaned as Toma's knees grew weak.  He looped an arm around his waist to hold him up, and he explored his mouth deeply, sucking on his tongue and tasting his lips.

Toma succumbed with no resistance, and as the kiss went on, he respond with more enthusiasm, exploring Emil's mouth in turn.  He moaned and melted against Emil, who pulled him closer still.

When they parted, Emil rested his brow against Toma's and murmured, "We shouldn't do this."

Toma replied, breathless, "I don't care.  That felt incredible."  He splayed his hands on Emil's chest, then let them slide lower.

"All right," Emil said, and he untangled himself from Toma, stepping back.  "We really should be getting on the road."

Toma nibbled on his fingertip and looked at Emil like sin itself standing right there before him.  "If you're sure."

Emil nodded quickly.  "Yes, time's a'wasting."  By all that was holy, he wanted to bed this youth so badly he was toying with the idea that execution wouldn't be so bad a price to pay for just one taste.

Out of the blue, Toma said, "I don't want to go to the castle.  I want to go to the Duke of Lendia.  It was where I was headed in the first place.  If I go back, my mother will never let me leave again.  I'll be like a bird in a cage forever."

Emil bit his lip.  Would the Duke's reward be so generous? Hrm.  "Yes, but your royal mother will want to see you as soon as possible."

Toma shook his head.  "No, I shall go to the Duke's.  You may escort me to the castle after my visit there, if you like."

Emil stroked his scruffy chin.  He could get two rewards out of this.  "And who exactly shall I be at the Duke's?  A random commoner is going to be escorted politely to the door."

Toma's brow knit, then he said, "I shall be needing a new valet.  I'll tell them you're him."

Emil wanted to protest, being as he wasn't even sure what a valet did, but Toma was royalty. He could order him to go and if things escalated to that level, they might lose the friendly rapport they'd developed, so Emil said, "Very well, and then I will escort you home to the castle."  And to what he hoped would be a lot of money.