Castle Town, page 1
Castle Town
Anya Merchant
Copyright © 2022 Anya Merchant
All rights reserved
Kindle Edition
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental. This work is intended for adults only. It contains substantial sexually explicit language and scenes that may be considered offensive by some readers. None of the characters engaging in sexual conduct in this work of fiction are under the age of 18, legally unable to give consent, or related by blood.
Contents
Castle Town
Anya Merchant
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 1
The tree was a towering old boy, but Prince Makoa was determined to climb higher. He tested the next branch with a healthy dose of prodding from the pad of his foot, making sure it would take his weight. He was high enough up now that a slip or a fall could easily spell his end.
A leaf brushed across his cheek as he committed to the step, pulling himself up and shifting forward. At long last, he had an unimpeded view of what he’d been searching for. The bet could be settled.
Perched on the corners of Harvest Castle’s outer walls were four turret towers. It had been decades, probably more than a century since they’d last served their defensive purpose. So long, in fact, that the largest of murder holes of each one had been refilled with stained glass by some busybody predecessor of his grandmother, the current governing underqueen.
Three of the turret towers’ stained-glass scenes depicted beautiful but mundane historical happenings. The fourth had a tit in it. And Koa would be damned if he wasn’t going to use this chance that he’d literally climbed a tree for, risking life and limb, to prove it.
He and Brin had a wager, after all. It was near impossible to get the right view to see this particular window from ground level or even from the castle’s wall. The turret towers themselves were locked up tight – he’d tried and failed several times to track down the key.
Koa leaned forward, and the past half hour of increasingly sweaty-palmed climbing was instantly worth it. He could see the stained-glass window, and moreover, the angle of the sun illuminated the scene in all its glory.
A woman, undoubtedly one of the Nameless Gods, held a candlestick in one hand and a chalice and the other. She was clad in a loose robe, the front billowing open to reveal a generous amount of cleavage… and a little more.
He’d been mostly right. There was a hint of nipple there, enough for him to at least argue the point to Brin over beers and bluster. His memory of the only up-close view of the window he’d ever gotten came from early childhood, his great-grandmother’s time, when the turret towers had still been accessible, and the temptation of a high up place had been irresistible to his young, adventurous spirit.
Koa pulled his sketchpad out of one pocket and a charcoal pen from the other. It seemed a shame to flatten the colorful and subtly erotic portrait in front of him down to black and grey and white, but if he took his time, he could at least do the details justice.
Something brushed the top of his ear. He waved a hand across the side of his head, wary of the danger of stinging insects within the forest surrounding Harvest Castle and Gladetown. A giggle came from far below, and as he turned to look, an apple core struck him right above one eye.
It was his own annoyance, rather than the force of the blow or even the distraction of it that made him lose his grip. It happens to be very easy to miss a hand or foot placement in the rush to reply to a thrown object with a vulgar gesture.
He had time to gasp as he tipped forward, chest colliding with a thick branch that he realized he should have grabbed onto the instant after he slipped past it. Another branch greeted him below that, and another one after that. A familiar shout of panic filtered up from the ground below in between snaps of wood and grunts of pain.
He did eventually hit the ground, sporting numerous scrapes and bruises and a healthy amount of disappointment. He and Brin took their bets seriously and he’d literally had victory staring him in the face, a beautiful, erotic victory in the form of a goddess’s peeking nipple.
I suppose I could still finish it from memory, he thought. It’s not as though that lazy bastard will repeat the climb for verification.
“Koa!” A familiar, panicked wail came from a few steps nearby. “I am so sorry! I was just trying to get your attention! Koa! Makoa? Are you all right?”
He was, but feigned otherwise for the benefit of Ruby, his oldest servant and most annoying friend. She’d been his tagalong for the past twelve years, since he was nine and she was six. He loved her dearly and as such, took every chance presented to tease and torture her.
“Koa?” Ruby shook him by the shoulders, voice taking on an even more panicked tone. “Koa!”
She shook him harder and took a ragged breath. Koa kept his eyes closed, trying to sense where she was. He waited until he was sure her face was as close to his as it could be without them bumping foreheads.
“Boo.”
Ruby was too easy. She flinched and fell backward, and then immediately slid in close again with a furious growl.
“You ass!” she cried. “I was worried about you!”
“You’re the reason I fell,” he said, smiling and pushing her shoulder. “You expect me to let you attempt to assassinate me without having a little fun in return?”
“I was only trying to get your attention.” She folded her arms, her face and expressive mouth scrunching up into an impossibly cute pout.
She was dressed like a boy again: trousers and a long-sleeved tunic. Her hair had been too long for her to pull the ruse off for a couple of months now, red locks falling to her shoulders in a wild mess of sunlit tangles.
According to Ruby, the look was effective at discouraging the comments of leering men when she was on business for the crown in the city. Even if she’d tied her hair back into a swordsman’s tail, the way her modest chest showed through the tunic’s fabric would have given her away, not to mention her hips and butt.
A single glance at her face, her freckles, her smile, would likely be enough.
“Did my mother send you to find me?” he asked.
“I was already looking for you, but yes.” Ruby picked a twig out of his hair and flicked it away. “What were you doing up there, anyway?”
Koa reached for his sketchpad, but Ruby was faster, snatching it up and scrunching her face again at the partial sketch. He’d finished enough to give a sense of his focus, what’d drawn his attention to the portrait in the first place.
“It’s for a bet between myself and Ser Brin,” said Koa.
“He works at the mill,” said Ruby. “He’s not a knight.”
“Anyone who has seen him ride before is clear on that point.”
Ruby narrowed her eyes and brought the pad closer, jabbing a finger at the bust of the goddess. “You truly climbed that high just to sketch a window?”
“There wasn’t exactly much else going on today, other than whatever errand you’ve no doubt been sent to collect me for.”
“You could have simply stayed on the ground and gotten someone to pose for you,” suggested Ruby. “I might have been willing, if you’d asked me nicely.”
“I see you all the time, Ruby. What reason would I have to draw you? Besides, the bet was related to this specific window.”
Ruby’s scowl deepened, and she shook her head. Her eyes glanced back to the portrait as she started to pass it back to him. “You drew her nipple! Koa, you pervert!”
“It’s an accurate sketch of the artist’s original vision!” he said, forcefully. “You’re welcome to climb the tree yourself if you want confirmation on that point.”
Ruby scooped up a handful of grass and tossed it into his hair. Koa grabbed some nearby leaves, pulled the front of her tunic open, and shoved them down the front. She snarled and hit him in the leg with a stick, standing up to shake herself clean.
“Shall we get on with it, then?” he asked, stretching as he also rose to his feet. “I assume my mother wishes to see me before I depart?”
“She does,” said Ruby. “I’ll be going with you to remind you of your duties.”
“You’re welcome to come along, but it’s not as though I haven’t visited the villages of Harvestglade on my mother’s behal
“Heartbreaking, you mean.”
He waved a dismissive hand at her as they started walking along the castle’s outer wall toward the gate.
CHAPTER 2
Harvest Keep was small by the standards of castles within the realm of Osteanus, housing Makoa, his mother Avina, a few dozen servants and around fifty guards. A modest castle was fitting for the southernmost queendom, far removed from the skirmishes of the borderlands or the politics of the north.
Koa slowed to a stop as he rounded the corner leading to the hallway outside his mother’s chambers. Petra, his mother’s esper, was speaking to Captain Lauric in hushed tones. The guard captain saluted to her and then nodded to Koa on his way by.
“Makoa.” Petra flashed him a wry smile, dark lips curling into a half moon. “You have a vital glow about you this morning.”
She’d always had a way of giving him unusual compliments. Koa had known Petra all his life, and she’d been nearly as much of a presence and factor in his upbringing as Avina herself.
Like all espers, Petra looked as much a monster as human. Her skin was an unusual but not unappealing pale purple tone, and her hair was midnight blue in color, with branching horns poking out from underneath.
She was tall, about the same height that he was, curvaceous and beautiful in a way that made her seem dangerous even setting aside her vast magical power. Though given her bond to his mother and his mother’s temperament, it was power she rarely applied directly.
Needless to say, she was incredibly popular amongst the bards and minstrels of the surrounding lands. The only more desired woman within Harvestglade was, unsurprisingly, Princess Avina herself.
“Petra.” He grinned back at her. “Is my mother ready for me?”
“She waits inside her room.” Petra took a step back, pushing a lock of hair into place behind one of her horns. Her eyes were the color of mist, with pupils that she seemed capable of materializing and dissipating at will.
Koa glanced at Ruby, who moved to stand on the other side of Petra. He swung the door open and stepped inside.
“I’m set to leave at any time, mother, if you had any concerns about…”
She was naked, standing by her window, short blonde hair still scraggly and wet. She spun around to face him, startled, but only moving to cover herself after he’d already seen everything there was to see. Princess Avina Gladefoot, his mother through the Ostean tradition of adoption if not birth, completely unclothed, face still flushed from the heat of the bath.
“I didn’t realize you were…” He winced and spun around. “Moreover, Petra didn’t tell me you were…”
He half expected a giggle from the esper in the hallway, but Petra rarely laughed. Ruby was probably struggling to contain her own mirth, but she was always on her best behavior in front of her princess.
“It’s all right, Makoa,” said Avina. “I was in the middle of grabbing a robe. This won’t take long.”
From where Koa was standing, it hardly mattered how long their exchange would take. The damage was done. The image was burned into his mind as surely as any could be. He wondered if his eyes had still been in that open, detail-oriented state he often used for sketching, primed by his earlier glimpse of the goddess’s suggestive posture.
His mother was short, but with a figure fit for a princess, full and firm in spite of her being but a few months from her fortieth birthday. Her bond with Petra was a contributing factor. Most Osteans capable of the bloodline summoning magic aged far more slowly while connected to their espers.
The sight of her breasts, pale skinned with nipples the color of pink carnations, would never leave his memory, regardless of whether he wanted it there or not. Never. She had a birthmark under her left breast in the shape of a halfmoon, another little fact that would be forever etched into his mind.
“Koa?” she called out. “I haven’t scarred you over much, have I? I’m a princess in name, but I’m well aware that I’ve long since acquired the body of a queen.”
She’s such a smooth liar, he thought. Doubtless she notices the way men still see her.
“I didn’t see anything,” he lied. “Tell me when you’re decent.”
Avina laughed and Koa heard the sound of rustling cloth. “You can turn back around. This won’t take long. I simply wished to check in with you before you set out to Vestus.”
It was easier for him to fit her back into the neat and safe box a mother belonged in as he faced her with a robe on. Her hair hung only to her shoulders, each blonde strand as straight and silky as her handmaidens could keep it. Her eyes were large, expressive sapphires, always brimming with emotion for him despite seeming as cold as ice while attending to her royal duties.
“Of course,” he said. “I assume it’s nothing too unusual. Taxes? I’ve heard a few grumbles of a poor harvest from travelers passing through the taverns.”
“Not this time.” Avina brought a hand up to stroke the side of her chin, eyes distant. “The mayor of Vestus sent us a request for a guard patrol of the surrounding area. One of the villagers has gone missing under unusual circumstances.”
“He assumes bandits, then? That seems unlikely, given how calm Harvestglade has been as of late. Monsters even less so. Wolves, maybe?”
“There’s no way for us to guess without surveying the area ourselves,” said Avina. “Spend a day on it. If you leave within the hour, you can reach Vestus by nightfall. Behave yourself at the inn, spend tomorrow investigating the area, and return once you’ve gotten a sense of the situation.”
“Behave myself at the inn?” Koa made a face and held out a hand in a questioning gesture. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, please. I’ve heard more than enough about how boisterous you and your friend from the mill can be after a few ales.”
“You’ve met Brin several times before, mother. You can refer to him by name.”
“I can, but I choose not to.” She smiled and closed the distance to him, eyes full of fondness. “You’re my son and the rightful prince of Harvestglade. All I ask is for you to be your best self.”
The rightful prince of Harvestglade. Through just those words, Koa felt his heart both rising and falling. She always made sure to remind him of his place, even as the rest of the world made to question it. Lift him up as the rumors tore him down.
Makoa Gladefoot. The Replacement.
“I won’t disappoint you,” he said.
Avina took his hand into hers and gave it a soft squeeze. The motion was small, but apparently enough to loosen the drawstring of her robe, and for the briefest moment, he was afforded a view that nearly mirrored the tantalizing depiction of the goddess in the window. Koa cleared his throat and raised his gaze.
“Be careful, Makoa.” She pulled him into a hug, something she’d rarely done in the past few years. Koa tried not to feel weird, despite being keenly aware of how little she was wearing, how shockingly womanly her body felt against his.
“I always am.” He stepped back from her, picking up the faint scent of jasmine soap. Ruby fell into step as he emerged into the hallway. He shot one last parting glower at Petra, who seemed indifferent to the embarrassing encounter she’d orchestrated.
“Are we setting out?” asked Ruby.
“Right after I grab a few things from my chamber.”
He took his sketchpad out of his pocket. He still wanted to finish his drawing of the goddess and knew he might well find a chance during the downtime on his mission. Strangely, he found it hard to conjure the image of the stained-glass window back into memory, the face and hair shifting to resemble someone much more familiar.
CHAPTER 3
“Must you always tease Makoa like that?”
Avina crossed her arms, frowning seriously at Petra, who was one of a select few within the castle who could withstand her ire.
“You misinterpret my intentions,” said Petra. “Your Highness, my aim this time was to tease you.”
Avina shook her head. “To what end?”
“You seem to have developed the unfortunate habit of cloistering yourself. You are a woman before you are anything else. I was only hoping to assist you in remembering that.”
