Chapter Text
Nearly every morning he would stand across the hall facing the door, ornately carved of dark walnut. Straight and still, only the imperceptible sound of his breath and the rise and fall of his chest underneath his steel breastplate indicated that he was anything more than a statue. But he was of flesh and blood, a young man in his mid-twenties. The guardsman was named Pierre and he directly served the Queen of Firene, Ève.
Pierre was the third son of a baron. He was a noble by birth, but so far down the line of succession that there would have been little for him to inherit. Instead, he sought to serve in castle Firene however he could, landing a place in the royal guard. His attentiveness and dedication did not go unnoticed and he soon found himself becoming assigned to the Queen's personal guard.
The sound of birds chirping could be heard from a nearby open window as Pierre continued to stare at the door. A cool morning breeze blew in and caused goose bumps to rise on his skin. Despite this, Pierre continued to remain motionless as he waited. A few more minutes passed before he heard the faint sounds of footsteps growing in volume. Suddenly, the door that Pierre had been watching intently for so long opened.
“Good morning, Pierre. How are you on this fine day?”
The Queen of Firene smiled at the royal guardsman as she stepped out of her private quarters. Pierre was always met with a fuzzy feeling in his stomach whenever she looked at him in such a way. The way her soft pink lips curled upward as she looked into his eyes with her own jade green irises. It didn't help that the rest of her appearance was beautifully stunning as well. The mature woman was likely in her late thirties to early forties (Pierre didn't know exactly as it was rude to ask a woman her age) but she still maintained a youthful appearance. Only the tear troughs under her eyes and the motherly swell of her hips gave away her real maturity.
“I am doing well, milady, thank you.” Pierre gave the Queen a short bow before looking back up at her again. “Did the night treat you well?”
Queen Ève let out a soft chuckle. “Oh yes, I had much better sleep than the previous night. That tea worked wonders.” She stepped out of the doorway and closed the entrance to her room behind her. “I am quite famished, however. Come and accompany me to the dining room.
“Of course, milady.” Pierre followed behind the Queen as she took off down the hall.
As she walked, the Queen's long blonde hair, tied into a voluminous ponytail that curled into a twist at the end, flowed behind her. Two side bangs curled like drills and rested along the front of her shoulders. Her elegant hairstyle was accentuated by the emerald crown wreathed with white flowers that sat on her head. Of course, the mien of royalty would be incomplete without the attire to match. Firene's ruler wore a long white dress with green ribbons spiraled around the circumference from the ruffled base at her feet all the way up to her waist and tied around a light blue corset. Frilled black straps framed her chest and strung her dress up over her shoulders to a detached frilled collar bearing a green gemstone and decorated her detached white sleeves. The Queen's dress reached up to cup her large breasts, but left the top half of her chest as well as her shoulders and upper back exposed.
“She looks as beautiful as ever today,” Pierre thought as the two of them continued their walk through the castle. “Ah, if only we could've met in some other life. Maybe one where we're both commoners living in the same village. Maybe then we could be on equal standing and I would actually have a chance. Instead I come from one of the lowest levels of nobility and here you are, Queen of an entire country.”
Pierre let out a heavy sigh without thinking. Queen Ève stopped and turned towards him with a furrowed brow.
“Is something the matter, Pierre?”
“Oh, no l… uh,” Pierre stuttered as he tried to think of an excuse. “I might just be feeling a bit hungry as well.”
“Didn't get enough breakfast?” The Queen's mouth curled into a slight smile. “We can get something for you too when we get there.”
Pierre gave her a nod and they continued walking. Queen Ève was always empathetic, especially towards the people she cared about. Pierre didn't think he would ever be anything like that to the Queen when he first joined the royal guard. As they spent more time together and he was eventually assigned to her personal detail, the guardsman and the Queen became better acquainted. If he was presumptuous enough, Pierre would say that they were friends.
Upon their arrival, the two guards flanking the dining room doors pulled them open for the Queen. She gave them each a nod as she stepped inside followed by Pierre. Inside was a long wooden table lined with over a dozen ornately carved chairs that reached from one end of the large room to the other. Paintings of past monarchs and beautiful scenery lined one of the walls while the other had a series of large curtained windows that looked towards the royal gardens. The Queen of Firene sat at the head of the table and a male servant placed a plate of food in front of her. Two eggs sunny side up with few roasted potatoes, sausage links, and a bit of garnish on the side promised a filling meal to start the day. The servant poured a glass of orange juice and was about to depart before the monarch held up her hand.
“One more glass for my dutiful companion, please.” Pierre's cheeks warmed with a subtle flush upon hearing Queen Ève's request. The servant retrieved another cup and poured more juice. “Thank you. You may leave us, now.” The servant gave a bow before departing the room, leaving the Queen and her bodyguard alone. She turned to Pierre and gave him a soft smile before gesturing to the chair on her right. “Go on, have a seat.”
Pierre complied and sat next to her. “Milady, I'm not sure if this is entirely appropriate. I-”
“Oh hush,” the Queen interrupted him with a wave of her hand. “Haven't I told you before? You don't need to stand on ceremony with me when it's just the two of us. You can just call me Ève as well.” She picked up a fork from the table and stabbed a roast potato. Ève scooted her chair closer to Pierre and brought the potato to his face. “Come on, open up!”
With his cheeks even redder than before, Pierre opened his mouth to offer one last bit of protest, but not before Ève pushed the food straight in. Left without a choice, but not entirely upset over it, he began to chew. The warm savory taste of a well-seasoned roast potato delightfully permeated his taste buds. Pierre couldn't help but relax just a little bit as he finished chewing and began to swallow, letting the exquisitely prepared food fill his stomach. Ève had a sausage link already prepared and held up to his face before Pierre hesitantly opened his mouth for more.
It was an awkward and almost uncomfortable feeling, being fed by Ève. She was the ruler of a nation, a member of royalty with incredible political power at her fingertips. At her word, she could sentence any punishment to anyone she desired. She could have someone killed, tortured, imprisoned for life, stripped of any wealth or status they might possess, or even worse. Despite this ability, Ève was a kind woman, a benevolent Queen to her people, and a caring mother to her children. Ever since he was a boy, Pierre had been raised to treat royalty with the utmost respect and to be wary of the power they held. To see someone like Ève care for him almost as much as she would for one of her children was an alien concept to him. The few years the young man had served as a royal guard did little to change this perception.
“There, how was that?” Ève gave him a soft smile after feeding him several more bites. Half of her plate was already empty and she hadn't taken a single bite herself.
“It was delicious,” Pierre said before taking a drink to wash it down. “But don't forget that this is supposed to be your meal.”
“Oh!” Ève's eyes widened before looking down at her food. “Yes, you're correct. My apologies. I suppose I was getting a little nostalgic for when the kids were young.” She looked back up at Pierre with a slight flush on her cheeks. “But you are older than they are even now. Goodness, you must be embarrassed.”
“It's no trouble milady- er, I mean Ève.” Pierre held up a hand and tried to reassure her. He knew that any discomfort he felt should be pushed aside when serving his Queen.
Ève's expression softened. “Is that so? Well thank you for indulging me then. I suppose the mother in me must find some way to deal with the absence of her children.” Ève looked out of the nearby window towards the outside world.
“Do you miss Prince Alfred and Princess Céline?” Pierre asked.
“Not a day goes by where I don't wish for them to return home at once,” Ève's voice grew somber. “I know that their duty is to assist the Divine Dragon and bring peace to the world. As their mother however, I can't help but worry for their safety.” Ève turned to face Pierre once more. “Some would say I'm selfish for thinking in such a way. They are grown up now and should be free from their mother telling them how to live their lives…” She let out a sigh. “But I don't know what I would do if I lost them.”
“I don't think you're being selfish.” Pierre said without thinking. Ève looked into his eyes and he suddenly realized that he spoke out of turn. As their gazes locked on each other, he realized that anger from his rudeness was the furthest thing on her mind. Pierre swallowed before continuing. “Prince Alfred and Princess Céline are some of your only family you have left after the King… after he passed.” A brief pause followed, but he saw that Ève continued to listen intently. Pierre decided to continue. “I know it's been hard on you to be left here alone while those you care about are out putting themselves in danger. I can only imagine how you must feel knowing that they could not come back.”
“Pierre…” Ève whispered under her breath.
The butterflies in his stomach felt like they were going to fly out. Pierre took a deep breath. “Your mental and emotional well-being is important too and… uh… I would hate to see you fall into sadness.”
Ève kept her eyes on Pierre's as the room fell silent for a moment.
“My my, do you plan to woo the Queen with those words?” Ève said as she broke the silence.
“What?” Pierre's eyes widened and his mouth dropped. “That's not- I didn't mean to-”
“Ha ha ha!” Ève couldn't help but burst into laughter. “Oh ho, I'm joking! Pierre my dear, I apologize. He he he!”
The young man closed his mouth and cleared his throat. “Ahem, yes. Of course. I should've known that.”
The Queen of Firene giggled before standing up from her chair. Pierre looked at her in confusion, wondering if there was something she needed. Before he could stand up to provide assistance, Ève stepped towards Pierre, leaned in, and pulled him into a hug. The guardsman froze as his face was pushed right into the Queen's chest, her soft breasts squishing against his cheeks. The open top of Ève's dress allowed his nose to sink into her cleavage and smell her fragrant flowery perfume. Pierre's heart pounded in his chest as he sat in his chair paralyzed by indecision.
“By the dragon, what is happening?!” Pierre's mind screamed. “Is she doing this on purpose? Should I pull away? But they're so damn soft… no! I shouldn't! Queen Ève I'm so sorry!”
“Pierre, thank you,” Ève said softly. The young guard's panicked thoughts paused as he listened to her. “Your supportive words mean more to me than you could ever know.” She took a deep breath before continuing, holding him tightly all the while. “I thought I would become lonely with my husband and children gone. Thanks to your support and companionship, I don't think I have to fear that any longer.”
Warmth welled inside Pierre's chest upon hearing Ève's words. The anxiety lingering in his mind slowly dissipated. It was a great honor to have the Queen of Firene give so much praise and show her appreciation in such a way, especially for someone of such low noble standing. For Pierre however, the idea of honor was far from his mind. Ève's warm embrace and intimate confession of the trust she placed in him gave the young guardsman immeasurable joy. His nervous and excited hands trembled slightly as they raised to return the hug. Before he could however, Pierre and Ève were interrupted by a knock on the dining room door.
“Oh!” Ève let out a startled yelp as Pierre suddenly pulled away and stood up. His instinct as a guard and the realization of what their situation would look like to others brought him back in line. The Queen cleared her throat before answering the knock. “Come in!”
The door swung open and one of the Queen's advisors stepped through. He was a short portly man with a bald spot on his head and he carried a stack of documents. A female servant followed behind and carried writing implements.
“Good morning, your highness,” the advisor said as he stopped in front of the Queen and bowed. “I apologize for interrupting your meal, but we need you to look over these as soon as possible.”
“Yes, it's no trouble.” Queen Ève sat back in her chair. A document was placed in front of her as she picked up her fork again. “This is… General Chassepot's request for more supplies.”
Pierre could still feel his heart beating rapidly as he stood to the side and watched over the Queen. He tried to take deep breaths to calm himself down, but his mind still raced as it played back what had happened between them over and over again. Her smile, her laugh, her warmth and softness, her smell… Pierre wanted nothing more than for him and Ève to hold each other tightly. She was so beautiful, so sweet and kind. She was the perfect woman in his eyes.
The Queen's eyes poured over the documents in front of her as she played with her fork. She brought it up to her mouth and teased her lips with the prongs. Pierre had seen her do this before. While Ève thought of other things, or simply let her mind wander, she would absent-mindedly play with things using her mouth. It wasn't a proper thing for a Queen to do, but few reprimanded her for it. Pierre thought it was a cute little quirk of hers and paid little mind to it… until now.
Ève's lips softly suckled the silver utensil. The guardsman couldn't put his finger on it immediately, but there was something… sensual about it. The fork shined wet with her saliva as she took it out of her mouth and he suddenly realized what it was. She was sucking on the same fork that she used to feed him just a moment before. Pierre's saliva, that was no doubt left over, had just been licked clean by the Queen of Firene. This revelation quickly warped his perception of the whole thing. Pierre's imagination ran wild as he imagined their tongues entwined, exchanging spit like lovers. His mind changed the scene and he pictured a much more phallic object being licked and sucked in front of him. With the Queen sitting down, she was right at eye level with…
“He has arrived?” Ève suddenly spoke and derailed Pierre's train of thought.
“Yes, your highness,” the advisor confirmed. “Count Berthier has requested an audience at your earliest convenience.”
“Very well,” Ève frowned as she skewered a sausage link with her fork. “I shall meet with him soon.”
The monarch took a bite of the sausage with a bit more aggression than usual. Pierre found himself clenching his teeth at the sight.
–
The souring of the Queen's mood was not unwarranted. Of all of the nobles in Firene that she dealt with, Count Berthier was the most irritating. His lands sat along the border between Firene and Solm and he would always find something to complain about. His concerns often ranged in validity, but he always made sure to voice them at every opportunity.
“You need to do something about this!” Count Berthier raised his voice as he stood before the Queen in a private meeting room. Ève sat in an ornate chair at the head of a long table while Pierre stood motionless against the wall behind her. “These bandit attacks on my lands are coming from across the border, I know it! Solm is doing little to mitigate this threat. If I didn't know any better, I might think they were letting those thugs cross the border on purpose.”
Concern furrowed the Queen's brow as she bore the brunt of Berthier's tirade. It was a delicate matter trying to assuage his concerns while dealing with his demanding nature. Pierre could only stand idly by, unable to assist his Queen with her troubles. His duty was to guard and not to advise. Speaking out of turn, while likely to not be punished by Ève, would only cause the Count's anger to rise.
“I will speak with my generals,” Queen Ève replied. Her posture remained straight and her voice level. “We can send soldiers to reinforce your garrisons, but I will need to consult with them before further action can be taken.”
“No, no, no…” Count Berthier twisted his mustache as he paced back and forth. He was a thin middle-aged man who wore extravagant clothing. He took great pride in his appearance, especially his facial hair. His long curled mustache and goatee were well-known throughout the kingdom. Many admirers would try to emulate his style with mixed success. Pierre had even considered growing a mustache of his own upon meeting the Count. After getting to know him however, the young guardsman's admiration was soon spoiled. “Not good enough. Solm needs to be held responsible for leaving their borders unguarded!”
“No,” the Queen of Firene firmly replied. “We are in a time of conflict and Solm is our ally. We cannot afford to show weakness or sow distrust between us. We must stand united against the threat of the Fell Dragon.”
“Being complacent will not prevent my lands from being pillaged!” Berthier slammed his fist on the table. His face began to flush redder by the minute, getting closer to resembling a ripe tomato than a man. “If you do not give me what I need, then I will be forced to take action myself!”
Ève stood up from her chair and met Count Berthier's eyes with a scowl. “You will stay within Firene's borders until a final decision is made. That is my word.” Berthier froze in place. “Do I make myself clear?”
Silence permeated the room as tension between them reached its peak. Pierre knew Queen Ève to be a sweet woman, kind and caring for her subjects. On rare occasions however, Ève showed her firm resolve. With the weight of leadership on her shoulders and the crown on her head, she could not afford to show weakness in the face of opposition. Her manner of dress and beautiful features might have suggested a more delicate demeanor, but inside Ève was a will as strong as steel. At least that is what Pierre believed as he stared in awe at the Queen.
“Tch,” Berthier finally broke the silence. “The King would have agreed with me.” Queen Ève continued to stare daggers into the Count. “This kingdom has gone downhill without a man on the throne.” Berthier turned away, no longer meeting the eyes of the Queen. “First an invasion by Elusia is allowed to nearly take the capitol and then the royal heirs are allowed to prance around the continent where they could be killed at any moment.” Berthier glanced at the Queen one last time before turning towards the exit door of the room. “Bah! I've had enough. It's only a matter of time anyway. We'll all be given what we deserve.”
Count Berthier wrenched the door open and stormed out of the meeting room. All alone with only her guardsman, Queen Ève slumped back into her chair and leaned her forehead on her hand.
–
The flowers in the royal gardens were just beginning to bloom. A young guard followed behind his Queen as the mid-afternoon sun shined above their heads. The monarch's lips curled into a soft smile as she admired the perfectly curated beauty of nature. Vibrant hued petals, draping leaves, rich and fertile soil; it was an exhibit carefully crafted and maintained over generations.
Queen Ève paused as she passed by a particular bush. It was a rose, one that she had planted with her mother when she was a young princess. The bush had grown, blossomed, wilted, and been pruned countless times over the years. It was not a flawless specimen like most of the others. Its branches were jagged and covered in thorns and only a single scarlet flower had managed to bloom this year. In contrast, the flowers around the bush grew healthy and plentiful. Two young seedlings, offspring of her rose and planted by the current Prince and Princess, took root adjacent to Ève's flower.
The gardeners were inclined to dispose of the rose bush. It was well past its prime and soon would likely never blossom again. Ève insisted that it should remain, however. Even if it was becoming an eyesore among the other flora, she still held on to the cherished memories it brought her. As she looked towards the base of the plant, Ève noticed another flower growing underneath. A small sunflower basked in the thin rays that shined between the branches of the rose. It did not grow tall and its bloom was not wide like other sunflowers, yet it remained content to sit under the immense presence of the rose. Even if the shade of the branches above would stifle its growth, the sunflower still persisted on what little sunlight it had.
“Gardener,” Queen Ève called out to a nearby royal gardener.
“Yes, your highness?”
“Do not dispose of that sunflower under the rose. I want to see it remain there… Perhaps you could prune the branches back and give it more sun?”
“As you wish, your highness.”
The Queen of Firene continued her walk through the garden until she reached a gazebo with vines and flowers growing along the structure. Under the shade of the roof sat a small round table and two chairs. As Ève sat herself in one of the chairs, a servant emerged from out of sight with a bowl of fruit in one hand and a tray of pastries in the other. Pierre stepped aside as multiple other servants set the table, arranged dishes and cutlery, and brought out the tea set. Upon seeing the servant bringing the teapot however, the guardsman felt a sudden unease in his stomach.
“Halt,” Pierre held up a hand as the servant approached. “Who are you?”
“Me?” The servant furrowed his brow. Pierre knew the face of every servant that tended to the Queen. The red headed man with a handlebar mustache was unfamiliar to him. “I'm only a servant. Perhaps we have not met? I have only been employed at the castle for a few weeks.”
“And you have been assigned to serve the Queen directly in that short of a time?” Pierre placed his hand on the hilt of the sword on his hip.
“Uh… w-well I, um-” the man began to stutter and sweat as he saw Pierre reach for his weapon.
“Now now, Pierre,” Ève said as she stood up from her chair. “I'm sure there's no need for that.” The guardsman looked over his shoulder and the Queen gave him a smile. “All of the servants go through a thorough vetting before employment, remember?” Pierre gave a short nod before releasing his grip on his sword. The servant gave a short bow to both of them before delivering the teapot and quickly walking away. “Come, Pierre. Sit with me.”
The young guardsman stepped into the gazebo and sat across from the Queen. Her warm smile welcomed him as she lifted the teapot and began pouring cups for both of them. Pierre leaned forward to stand up and perform this menial task for her, but Ève waved him away. He remained in his seat while Ève put a banana, a few strawberries, and a croissant on her plate. She motioned for Pierre to help himself. He took a few macarons and an apple.
“Ah, it's so nice to relax outside on a warm spring day.” Ève sighed as she looked over the garden before turning her eyes back towards Pierre. “To do so in the company of a good friend is even better.”
Ève's irresistible smile caused Pierre to nearly drop his macaron. “Th-thank you, Ève.” His normally stoic expression couldn't help but crack as his lips curled into a slight smile.
Ève let out a sigh. “I cherish these moments, you know.” Pierre stopped focusing on the food and gave his full attention to the Queen. “These precious fleeting minutes where I can truly breathe and the weight on my shoulders is lifted just a little bit.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “I didn't think I would make it a year after my husband passed. He was like a pillar that kept me upright. My children… Their support and love has given me the strength to stand on my own two feet. I would do anything for them.”
With a deep breath, Ève took a bite of her croissant. “I apologize, I must be ruining the mood with my personal troubles.” She lets out another sigh. “I wonder how much longer I can keep this up.”
“Ève.” The Queen perked up upon hearing Pierre call her name. His calm voice soothed just a bit of tension as she waited for him to continue. “Don't be so hard on yourself. You are the strongest person I know.”
Ève's heart skipped a beat. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” Pierre nodded. “I've seen your resolve. I believe that you are tougher than most warriors. Even without your family here, I believe that you can weather any storm.”
“Hm… hu hu…” Ève's face bore a slight blush as her serious visage cracked. “Ha ha ha! You sound just like my husband did,” She chuckled. “Oh Pierre, I must seem so foolish to you.”
“Not at all,” Pierre didn't share in her laughter. “It's normal to have doubts about yourself. I mean, I often wonder about my own ability to protect and serve you.” Ève's laughter grew quiet. “You're so kind to me, and I appreciate that greatly, but sometimes I wonder if there is any… discontent that is being hidden because of that.”
“Discontent?” Ève's eyes widened. “Pierre, I couldn't be more content with your service to me!”
“Yes, I know that,” Pierre said. “I still have feelings of doubt that pop up from time to time, however. They are small and fleeting, but sometimes I wonder if I'm doing enough. Am I being diligent enough to keep you safe? I don't know.”
A long pause followed Pierre's words. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the flowers around them, bringing a slight chill to the two in the gazebo. The vapor rising off of their tea slowly died down before either of them had gotten a taste. Suddenly, Pierre felt a soft warmth on his hand. He looked over to see Ève resting her palm over him. Their eyes met and she gave him a soft smile.
“You are a wonderful man, Pierre,” Ève said. “I'm proud to have you serve as my guard and I'm proud to have you as my friend.”
Pierre returned her smile with his own. A warm fuzzy feeling welled up inside him upon hearing Ève's words. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Now, enough feeling sorry for ourselves.” Ève's eyes brightened. “Let us enjoy our time out here.”
Pierre gave her a nod before biting into his apple. Just when he began to think that he couldn't fall for Ève any more than he already had, she had found another way to make it so. The butterflies in his stomach were running wild and he almost felt like he couldn't eat. Pierre looked at Ève again and saw her beautiful soft lips wrap around a strawberry and take a bite, leaving only the leafy stem behind. Pierre could feel heat rising to his face as unsavory thoughts entered his mind.
The banana on Ève's plate was next to be taken. The fruit was not native to Firene, but Ève herself had requested its importation. They were one of her favorite foods and thus became popular among the common folk as well. What the citizens of Firene didn't know was the Queen's unusual way of eating them. Ève peeled the banana open and began dragging her tongue along the soft core of the fruit. After a few licks along the length, Ève's tongue slid up to the tip before flicking off.
Pierre felt a twitch within his pants at the sight of the Queen of Firene treating the banana like a popsicle. She pursed her lips into an O before sliding them down the length of the fruit and taking it into her mouth. Soft little mumbles escaped Ève's lips as they dragged up and down, the pale yellow shaft appearing and disappearing with each movement. Pierre thought that she surely must know what she was doing with those lewd sensual motions. When he had asked her about it in the past however, she denied having any intention behind her actions. Ève simply liked the taste of bananas and the way they felt in her mouth.
As she finished tasting her treat, Ève sunk her teeth into the soft fruit. Of course, she had to enjoy every second of chewing as well. The Queen carefully minced the banana into a fine paste as she slowly chewed. Pierre willed himself to look away and focus on his own food in an effort to cool himself off from the heat rising within. He ate one of the macarons and picked up his cup of tea to wash it down before being interrupted with his lips near the rim.
“I've been curious to learn more about you,” Ève said after finally swallowing her bite. She figured that a bit of small talk would help alleviate some of the tension from their conversation and their day. “Would you mind telling me more about yourself?”
“Oh um, sure.” Pierre lowered his cup. “What do you want to know?”
“Do you have someone special in your life? Someone that you grew up with or some girl waiting for you back home?”
Pierre's eyes widened for a moment. “W-Well I uh… n-no, I don't really… do.”
“Oh my, a strapping young man like yourself is single?” Ève put a hand to her mouth. “Or perhaps you are attracted more to the… masculine persuasion?”
“No no, it's nothing like that,” Pierre said as he averted his eyes in embarrassment. “I've just… well…” In his mind, he knew that there was only one woman he had eyes for. Unfortunately for him, she seemed forever out of his reach, no matter how friendly they were with each other. All he could do was lie to conceal this uncomfortable truth. “I guess I've just never found the right one.”
“Is that so?” Ève took another bite of her croissant as her eyes scanned the man sitting across from her. “Hm… how about my daughter, Princess Céline? She came of age just this last year.”
Another attempt at drinking his tea was thwarted as Pierre nearly spilled the cup. “The Princess!?” The young guardsman felt like he was nearly going to have a heart attack.
“Indeed, the Princess,” Ève replied with a smile. “I wanted her to make her own choice on who to marry, so I didn't have one arranged. Unless she has met a man on her journey with the Divine Dragon, the door remains open.”
Pierre was speechless upon hearing the Queen's suggestion. The idea of someone like him marrying into royalty was absurd, but here the offer was laid before him. Pierre took a moment to let what was being said sink in before he finally responded.
“I-I don't know if such a thing would be appropriate.” Pierre began to fidget with his hands. “I mean, we hardly know each other. In fact, we've hardly spoken to begin with.”
“Of course, there will be time for courtship.” Ève said calmly. “You can't rush into these things. It takes time to develop and nurture a relationship. You need to build trust, understanding, and familiarity. It's not too much unlike a friendship, if you think about it.”
The wind carried a rose petal under the gazebo and onto their table.
“I'm sure you will want to think long and hard about something like that before making a commitment.” Ève said before eating another strawberry. “Don't worry. You will have plenty of time.”
The young man gave her a slow nod. It was an opportunity that most could only dream of. The Queen gave him her approval to marry the Princess. Pierre was not as excited as most people would be in such a situation, however. Céline was a pretty young woman. She was adored by many and he had little doubt that she was just as sweet as her mother. For Pierre however, it just wouldn't be the same to marry her. Queen Ève had captured his heart and any substitute would be inadequate in his eyes.
With that thought fresh in his mind, Pierre took a drink of his tea. It had cooled off considerably since being poured. With no more steam rising from the liquid, it was easy to take a large gulp. It didn't take long for him to regret doing so. The cup slipped from the young man's fingers and spilled tea across the tablecloth. Ève jumped as the cup clattered to the table, rolled off, and shattered as it impacted the ground. Pierre's vision lost focus as he began to see spots. He attempted to stand up, but his legs failed him and he tumbled to the ground.
“PIERRE!” Ève screamed.
The world spun around him as Pierre's eyes darted back and forth. A gurgling sound emanated from his throat as his heart raced quicker than it ever had in his life. He briefly wondered if he was at his end. He had fulfilled his duty to his Queen without even realizing it by discovering what the tea contained, but it came at a terrible price. He would no longer be there to protect her from threats like these. Would his successor have better luck? Pierre didn't know.
“Bring a healer, quickly!”
At least he was able to hear her voice one last time. Ève… sweet Ève… Pierre's only regret was not telling her how he truly felt. He didn't know if he ever would've had the courage to do so, but he still wished that he did. Pierre looked up towards the ceiling and saw her. His vision was fuzzy, but he knew the colors of her clothing and her hair. Ève knelt down and her face came into focus. Tears were streaming down her face as she cried out.
“Pierre! Pierre! Please stay with me!”
She grabbed ahold of his hand. She was so soft that it almost felt soothing despite how tightly she squeezed him. It was almost unbearable to know that he was leaving her behind. Pierre wanted to spend the rest of his life with Ève. In a way he got his wish, but it was all ending too soon. As his consciousness began to fade, Pierre attempted to speak his last words.
“È-Ève…” he croaked. “I lo-”
Everything faded to black.
–
Ève paced back and forth in front of the entrance to the castle's infirmary. It had been nearly a half hour since Pierre had been poisoned and she had been fraught with worry ever since. The healers were some of the best in the land and she knew that they were trying their best, but still, her anxiety continued.
“Your highness, you must calm down!” One of the nurses said as she approached. “Please, come have a seat.”
The nurse directed the Queen to a nearby chair where she sat. Ève clenched her teeth and fidgeted her hands together. The wait was unbearable. Was Pierre going to be ok? He had to be, he must. She needed him, she realized this more than ever before. Ève had already dealt with enough loss. She couldn't bear to go through losing someone precious to her again.
Ève bit her knuckle, hoping to relieve some of the tension. She only received pain and a small trickle of blood, barely enough to distract her from the anguish tearing her heart apart. Minutes passed, but she didn't bother to count them. It could've been hours for all she knew. Time seemed to lose all meaning as she sat in the hall. It wasn't until the sun lit the sky on fire as it neared the end of its descent that word finally arrived from one of the healers.
“He's stable. We've managed to neutralize the poison in his body, but he still needs time to make a recovery.”
Ève closed her eyes and silently gave her thanks in prayer as another tear trickled down her cheek. After a moment, she wiped her eyes and her nose with her handkerchief before looking towards the healer.
“I need to see him,” the Queen said with a calm and firm voice.
“Milady, he is asleep at the moment,” the nurse replied. “He needs his rest if he is going to make a proper recovery.”
“I only want to be with him for a short while,” Ève replied. “Please.”
“Well… oh, alright,” the nurse relented. “Just try to not disturb him.”
“Thank you.”
The Queen of Firene entered the infirmary and was escorted to Pierre's room. She had received confused looks when she asked that he be placed in his own private room. Normally guards would be placed in wards with other patients, but the Queen had insisted that he be given the utmost attention and care. As she entered, she saw him laid on a soft bed, sleeping peacefully under a blanket. His armor, sword, and top layer of clothing were removed and sitting in a corner. Ève stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Pierre's chest rise and fall as he breathed. An incredible feeling of happiness washed over her and she could feel the tears welling once again.
“Leave us,” Queen Ève called over her shoulder to the healer. “I will call you if I have need of anything.”
The healer bowed and closed the door behind Ève. She stood at the entrance for a moment more, watching his quiet slumber, before stepping closer. Ève knelt down by the bedside and took Pierre's hand into her own. His palms were rough compared to her soft delicate hands. Their warmth showed that life still flowed in his body and she couldn't help but feel comforted by that.
“Pierre,” Ève whispered. “My dear, sweet Pierre…”
The Queen placed a kiss on the guardsman's hand before leaning her head against his side. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the comforting warmth of his body enough to allow her to finally relax. There had been plenty of uncertainty in her mind regarding their relationship. Ève knew that many would consider them too friendly with one another. She tried to keep things professional between herself and Pierre when they were around other people, but that did little to quell the feelings growing within her.
Feelings that she had not experienced since before her husband's passing.
After one final squeeze, Ève let go of Pierre's hand and stood up. The Queen knew that she could rest easy tonight with the knowledge that Pierre was alive. She would be sure to pay him a visit first thing in the morning, as he had for her so many times. Ève looked at his face one last time. She had considered him handsome before, but there was just something about his calm and peaceful expression as he slept. She couldn't put a finger on it, but it made her lips curl into a soft smile. Ève leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on Pierre's forehead before turning to leave.
“Mmn… È-Ève…”
The Queen turned back around only to find Pierre's eyes still closed. “He must be dreaming,” Ève thought. “I wonder what about.” Her curiosity interrupted her departure and she stepped closer to better hear what he might say. It was then that she saw it in the corner of her vision.
“Oh goodness.”
A small mountain began to form on the surface of the blanket. Ève watched intently as it slowly rose and formed a tent in the middle of the bed. Ève was not ignorant when it came to such things. She knew exactly what was rising from Pierre's crotch as he slept. Heat began to rise in her cheeks as she continued to stare, unable to look away.
“Mmgm… Ève…” Pierre mumbled.
She felt a pull towards him. Pierre was calling her name. Even if it was unconsciously, Ève felt drawn to help him. She wanted to take care of him and make sure that his needs were met. The Queen told herself that it was to make sure that her personal bodyguard made a healthy recovery. Deep down however, she knew that there was much more to it than that.
Ève reached towards him, but she stopped halfway. If she continued any further, Ève would be crossing a line that she could not walk back from. Her relationship with Pierre would be forever changed. The thumping of her heart met her ears. It would be irresponsible, improper, scandalous. The consequences could be dire for the stability of her rule. The longer she stood staring at him however, the more she desired. If such a thing was wrong, then why did the thought of it feel so right? Why should she let what others think get in the way of what she truly desired? Ève was the Queen of Firene after all. Her word was law and what she decreed would be carried out. Thus her next decree (even if nobody else but her would hear it) would be simple: Queen Ève's love would belong to her beloved royal guard, Pierre.
Ève's hand landed on Pierre's bulge. Even through the blanket, she could tell that he was incredibly hard. With the way he had whispered her name as he slept, Ève knew that he must have been dreaming of her. The Queen's stomach fluttered at the thought that her feelings had a good chance of being returned. A wide smile stretched across her face before her fingers began to stroke him more earnestly. Only feeling Pierre's manhood through the covers was not enough for her, however. She desired to please him more directly.
The blankets were pulled away. Clad in only a pair of underwear and an undershirt, Pierre continued to lie peacefully on his bed. It was the most exposed that Ève had ever seen him and the heat in her cheeks began to rise rapidly. She pulled up Pierre's shirt and exposed his toned stomach. A faint set of abs were revealed to her and Ève couldn't help but admire them. She ran her fingers along the subtle ridges and let out a sigh.
“Oh, how I've missed this,” Ève thought. “Being able to admire the beautiful form of a man… it's almost nostalgic, in a way.”
A few moments passed before Ève willed herself away from admiring Pierre's abs. There were more important parts of him to devote her attention to. She grabbed ahold of the waistband of his underwear before giving it a firm tug, pulling them down to his knees. The Queen's breath caught in her throat as she bore witness to the weapon her royal guardsman concealed. Pierre's rigid cock stood straight towards the ceiling like a mighty castle tower. His length and girth were enough to leave her dumbfounded.
“By the dragon,” Ève thought. “Are they supposed to get this big?” She had only ever seen her husband's penis before and she struggled to remember if he came close to Pierre's size. She hesitantly reached out and wrapped her hand around his shaft. “It's so warm too…”
Slowly and steadily, Ève began to stroke Pierre's cock. She could barely fit her fingers around his girth. It felt so powerful, so manly. Every so often, he throbbed in pleasure and she wondered if he could feel it in his dream. A haze of lust began to overtake the Queen. She wanted to become more involved. She wanted to be closer to him.
Ève lifted her dress and softly knelt onto the bed. Straddling Pierre's legs, she leaned over and brought her face close to his huge cock. The monstrous length was enough to nearly reach her forehead from her chin. Ève felt her panties begin to dampen. She resumed stroking his length with a bit more pressure. Pierre let out a soft sigh under his breath and Ève perked up. She knew that he was feeling good without being told. A warm fuzzy feeling welled up inside her.
The musky scent of Pierre's cock wafted towards Ève's nose. As she inhaled it deeply, she couldn't help but let out a moan. Memories came back to her of the nights spent with her loving husband. He was so gentle with her, always making sure that she was comfortable and felt loved. It was always a lovely experience when they had sex, but Ève had secretly wished that they had done more. She had a bit of an adventurous side that wanted to try new things and experiment. It was something she had regretted not indulging in more while she still had the chance. Perhaps, with Pierre, she could rekindle that side of herself.
With eyes half-lidded Ève leaned in and kissed the tip of Pierre's cock. Her soft lips caressed the sensitive head before trailing down his shaft. There was so much area to cover and she began to wonder when it would end before finally reaching the crook between his cock and balls. Her lips traveled even lower, onto his sack and eventually making contact with one of Pierre's balls. Ève paid extra attention to his orbs, giving them plenty of kisses before finally sticking out her tongue and lathering the scrotum in her saliva.
“*Mph* *shlurp* *mwah*”
The hand that wasn't jerking off the guardsman's cock while the Queen worshiped his balls with her mouth found its way under her dress. Digging under her damp panties, Ève rubbed her folds and teased her clitoris. She had needed this more than she realized. It had been far too long since the last time. Her lips wrapped around one of Pierre's balls and sucked it into her mouth. She teased it with her tongue and swished it around before letting it go with a pop.
Something about using her mouth just felt so right. The savory taste of Pierre's cock and balls was delicious to Ève. She dragged her tongue from the base of his shaft all the way back up to the tip. It felt like she was eating a banana the way she always did, but this time it was different. The heat burning in her core and the love and affection pounding in her heart made this experience feel all the more wild and exhilarating. Ève's tongue circled around the tip of Pierre's cock, teasing it in a tantalizing sensation. The young man, unbelievably still asleep throughout Ève's worship of his loins, let out a low moan.
Ève let out a giggle. “His reactions are rather cute,” she thought. She continued to tease the tip while looking up towards Pierre's face. His eyebrows twitched and furrowed. “Ooh, the mother in me just wants to spoil him rotten!”
With that thought fresh in her mind, Ève finally took the plunge. Her soft lips wrapped around the tip of Pierre's cock before she pushed her head down and took a few inches of his length into her mouth. She didn't remember having to stretch her mouth this wide when blowing her husband. Ève soon began eagerly bobbing her head up and down the first half of Pierre's thick rod while simultaneously stroking the bottom half with her hand. Slurps, sucks, and gentle moans filled the room as Ève got into her own rhythm. Her other hand soon grew bored of simply teasing her folds and plunged two fingers into her dripping pussy.
“Uh… ungh…” Pierre groaned.
Ève could tell that he was really beginning to feel it. Pierre appeared to be a heavy sleeper, but even he would not be able to withstand what was happening to him for long. Ève made sure to stare directly at his face as she bobbed her head up and down. She wanted to see him the moment he woke up and she wanted him to see his Queen give him her utmost attention. It wasn't long before Pierre's eyes slowly creeped open.
“Ungh… wh-where… what is that feeling?” Pierre's vision soon came into focus only to find the jade green eyes of his Queen looking back at him. “È-Ève I- wait, what are you doing?”
Pierre's eyes widened as he finally took in the sight before him. It all suddenly hit him at once. The incredible pleasure that Ève was giving him, the way she looked into his eyes as her flushed face bobbed up and down his cock, his blanket and underwear pulled away so that his Queen could straddle his legs and have unrestricted access to his hard throbbing cock. He almost felt like he could burst if Ève didn't suddenly pull away at that moment.
“*Pwah,*” Ève pulled her mouth off of Pierre's cock. Excess saliva strung between her lips and his cock for a moment before collapsing under its own weight. “*Hah* I apologize for interrupting your sleep, my dear.” Her soft lips curled into a smile. “You appear to be well?”
“Y-Yeah,” Pierre stuttered. He could not tell if he was still dreaming or not. “I'm a bit tired… by the dragon, I thought I was going to die. But this! Ève, w-why are you-?”
“Giving you pleasure like this?” Ève finished Pierre's sentence and let out a chuckle. “Because I'm no longer afraid. I no longer wish to stand idly by as more and more people that are precious to me are slowly taken away. I don't want to live with words left unsaid, feelings unrequited, and a heart filled with regret.”
Ève crawled forward on the bed until her face was directly above Pierre's. “I love you, Pierre, and I will forever regret it if I don't let you know it.”
The Queen's long blonde hair fell over her shoulders and framed Pierre's face as he stared up at her. The young guardsman felt the words on his lips leave him as he struggled to respond to such a revelation. After a brief internal struggle, Pierre realized that he could not find a way to articulate without making himself look like a fool. Instead, he let his actions speak for him.
“Oh! P- *mph!*”
Ève let out a surprised yelp as Pierre reached around his Queen and pulled her down into a kiss. The sudden motion jostled the emerald crown of Firene's ruler and caused it to slip off and roll along the ground out of sight. Neither of them paid any mind as Ève returned the kiss, opening her mouth to let Pierre's tongue tangle with hers. Their hands wandered over each other's bodies touching, feeling, and grabbing whatever pleased them. Ève ran her kisses down Pierre's jaw and onto his neck, her breath heavy with lust between every peck. Pierre grabbed a handful of one of Ève's hefty breasts, something he had dreamed of doing for years.
“Mmn, yes!” Ève moaned. “I see that you are hungry for me as well.”
“You have no idea,” Pierre finally managed to let out.
There was no question anymore in Pierre's mind. Ève had shown him how she truly felt. He would be an idiot to hide behind such foolish notions as ‘duty’ or ‘responsibility’ when his deepest desires were being fulfilled before his very eyes. Pierre reached back with his other hand and grabbed Ève's plush rear. He gave it a firm squeeze and the woman above him let out a gasp. Pierre's hard cock rubbed against the front of Ève's dress as the two of them continued to grind their bodies against each other.
“He he! Such a needy young man!” Ève chuckled. “It has been so long since I was desired like this. Here, let me make things easier for you.”
Ève pulled away from Pierre and scooted off of the bed before standing up. While he was eager to continue indulging in the woman he loved, Pierre laid back and patiently let Ève do what she needed to do. She gave him a grin before reaching back and undoing the knots tying her corset around her waist. Bit by bit, Ève dismantled her attire until she was able to let her dress slide to the ground at her feet.
Despite showing confidence only a moment before, Ève's face soon grew even more flushed and she averted her gaze as she fully revealed her nude body. Pierre could only stare in awe as his eyes soaked in the image of the woman he loved. It was a sight that he would never forget for the rest of his days.
Ève's curves were softer than expected. Without her corset holding tightly around her waist, her stomach showed a slight softness. It wasn't something that would cause anyone to consider her fat, but it wasn't the thin toned waist that her regular attire suggested. Her thighs were on the thicker side, a detail previously hidden by her dress. Between those full legs, a patch of trimmed blonde pubic hair sat above a dripping wet pussy. As Ève's embarrassment turned her head to avoid eye contact, her body turned slightly with it. For a brief moment, Pierre could see the fullness of Ève's fat ass jutting out from her backside. A hint of cellulite was faintly visible on her cheeks as if to confirm to Pierre that his eyes and her dress did not mislead him. She really was ‘dragin’ a wagon,’ a phrase he occasionally heard fellow guardsmen speak about some of the women they would meet at taverns after their shift. His eyes wandered back up to her breasts as they sat unsupported on her chest. Despite their fullness, more than enough to fill Pierre's hand, Ève's breasts only had a slight sag to them. Her erect nipples, surrounded by soft pink areolae, stuck out prominently as if they were begging to be teased and sucked on.
“Well…” Ève hesitated and Pierre looked up towards her face. Her brow was furrowed and she began to fidget. “ Th-The years have not been kind in some ways. I don't suppose you would still have me after seeing me like this?”
“What!?” Ève jumped at Pierre's sudden response. “Of course I want you, Ève! You are-” Pierre hesitated as he felt a lump in his throat. It was the young man's most closely guarded secret and it was time to finally reveal it to the one he wanted to hear it the most. “You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met, Ève.” Pierre attempted to lift himself off of the bed to meet her. Before he could do so however, he felt fatigue overtake his muscles. “Agh, damn it!”
“Pierre!” Ève rushed to his side and eased him back into bed. “Please, don't strain yourself.”
Pierre looked back up to her face and saw Ève's concern melt into the soft smile that he loved so much. She leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, one without the fiery lust that had burned over them before. Their lips parted and Ève ran her hand across Pierre's cheek.
“Let me take care of things tonight, my dear.”
Ève climbed onto the bed and straddled Pierre's waist once again. His rigid shaft had lost none of its hardness as it stood proud in front of her. Both of their hearts pounded in their chests as they overcame the final mental hurdles holding them back from completely giving in. Ève took a deep breath before slowly raising her hips directly over Pierre's cock. In a moment that neither were prepared for, despite all that led up to it, Ève sank down onto Pierre's rod and let it breach her folds.
“Oough~” Ève let out an unladylike groan. The plentiful lubrication on both Pierre's cock and her own pussy let him slide deep inside her with little effort. In only a moment, Ève had taken more of him inside her than she had with her mouth. Already, she could feel his incredible length and girth stretching her walls. “You're s-so biiig~”
With her eyes half-lidded, Ève began undulating her hips. A feeling of nostalgia accompanied the incredible pleasure coursing through her body. She began to remember what it felt like to truly become connected to a man that she loved. Her breath grew heavier and her cheeks flushed red. Ève began letting out moans and grunts each time Pierre's cock skewered her insides. It had been far too long since the last time she had sex. Ève missed it.
“Fuck, Ève!” Pierre moaned as his lover devoured his length.
The feeling of Ève's pussy eagerly squeezing his cock, before Pierre had time to calm down from all of the previous stimulus, was almost enough to make him climax on the spot. Through sheer willpower alone, he managed to hold himself back. Pierre wanted to enjoy his time with Ève for as long as he could. What he didn't realize at the moment was how difficult that would be.
*Plap plap whap whap.*
Ève's ass regularly smacked Pierre's thighs as she began bouncing on his cock in earnest. Hot moans oozed out of her lips as the world around her faded away. Pierre couldn't help but let out his own deep groans as he felt the electrifying sensation of ecstasy coursing through him. Pierre's eyes fluttered and he briefly wondered if he would pass out for the second time that day. His thoughts were interrupted by Ève's lips crashing into his own. Pierre could only open his mouth and let her tongue explore as it pleased.
“Pierre… Pierre…” Ève whispered between kisses.
Her hot breath brushed against Pierre's face as he felt his whole world be consumed by the woman on top of him. Ève's breasts squished against his chest as she practically laid on top of her lover to reach his lips. Despite the change in posture, she continued to bounce on top of Pierre's meaty rod. The warmth from her body, now beading with sweat, only served to heat Pierre up to the point where it felt like he was melting in the throes of passion. It wasn't long before the heat within him threatened to overflow and send him over the edge.
“È-Ève, I can't hold on for much longer!” Pierre said after breaking off from Ève's kisses. “I'm going to cum if we keep going like this!”
A moment of clarity broke through the haze of lust clouding Ève's mind. She wanted Pierre and all he had to offer, but she knew that reality would soon give her a rude awakening. Pierre clenched his eyes and mouth shut and leaned his head back as an orgasm washed over him. Thick jets of cum launched into the air before splattering on both Ève and Pierre's stomach as the former pulled herself off just in time. Ève gripped his meaty cock with one hand and rigorously jerked it off while her other hand was busy thrashing her clit. In no time at all, Ève was quick to join her lover in ecstasy as her eyes fluttered and she gushed her juices.
The two lovers rode out their orgasms, enjoying the numbing pleasure that coursed through their bodies until it eventually died down. Ève waved a hand in front of her face in a vain effort to cool off. It would do little to mitigate the sweat dripping down her body. She looked down at the aftermath and stared in awe at how much of Pierre's white cream covered both of them. She couldn't recall clearly, but Ève didn't think her husband was able to unleash nearly as much as what thoroughly coated their lower bodies.
“Goodness, young men are really something else,” Ève thought. “If all of this had ended up inside me…”
Ève held her lower stomach. She needed to be careful. She was not yet old enough to not have to worry about getting pregnant and she was not using contraceptives either. To have a baby out of wedlock at this age would be sure to cause a great scandal. She must remain strong and control herself… even if the thought of Pierre giving her a nice thick creampie and making her experience the joys of pregnancy and raising a child all over again made her eager to ride his cock until her hips gave out.
Ève's heart pounded in her chest before she shook her head and set her mind straight. She couldn't let their relationship interfere with their duties. The potential danger for both of them could not be underestimated. Ève looked down towards Pierre, hoping to speak with him on where they should go from that point onward. Her serious expression softened as she saw her lover's eyes closed once more and his chest slowly rise and fall.
“I suppose such things can wait,” Ève whispered to herself. “We have a lot to talk about, but you need your rest more than anything.” She leaned forward and planted a soft kiss against Pierre's forehead. “Sleep well, my love.”
–
Once again, Pierre found himself standing across from the door to Ève's room. Even after making a full recovery within a few days, the Queen had insisted that her most trusted bodyguard be given an entire week to rest. He was certainly grateful for it, even if he felt that it was longer than necessary. Still, he couldn't say no to the Queen's frequent visits to his room. They would sit close to each other, talk, eat together, and sometimes simply sit in silence while enjoying each other's company. Pierre briefly wondered if their night of passion had only been a dream. Perhaps it was because of the frequent visits of his nurse, but Ève had not engaged in any further intimacy with him.
Pierre let out a sigh. Perhaps his post-poison stupor had played tricks on his mind. It would be safe to assume that such a thing was the case. He didn't want to imagine what his Queen's reaction would be if he asked for a kiss, or anything else beyond that, only for her to have no memory of what seemed like such a vivid experience for him.
The sound of footsteps on the other side of the Queen's bedroom door interrupted the guardsman's thoughts. Pierre straightened his posture and expression before the Queen of Firene emerged from her chambers.
“Good morning, Pierre,” Ève said with a soft smile. “How are you on this fine day?”
“I am doing well, milady, thank you.” Pierre gave the Queen a short bow before looking back up at her again. He was back to his routine, the same as he was a week prior. “Did the night treat you well?”
“Very much so,” Ève's smile widened as she took a step closer. “Although, it does sometimes get a bit lonely sleeping all alone.” Ève looked down both sides of the hallway and saw that the two of them were alone. She leaned in and gave Pierre a quick kiss on the cheek. “Perhaps I should assign you to guard me at night on occasion. We wouldn't want anyone to take advantage of me being all alone in there, would we?”
With a wink, the Queen was off, leaving her now flustered guardsman scrambling to catch up with her as she made her way to the dining hall for some breakfast.