This is a continuation of the Royal Heirs story - please read the other chapters for full context. All characters are 18 or older.
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The coming of age ball took place in the grand hall of the Island Fortress. The Royal Family sat on a raised dais on one side of the room, with the ruling family -- still the Reuge House -- sitting across from them on a similar platform on the other side of the room.
The ball celebrated the sons and daughters of local noble families that had come of age that year, parading them together in front of a gathering of each of the families. It was rooted in ancient tradition throughout the Kingdom, showing the fertile young members of the communities that were ripe for pairing and procreation.
It had turned more into a spectacle, an excuse to feast in excess and reduce the wine stores of the local ruling family.
This time, there was more at stake, and the tension was apparent in the air. With the King and Royal Family on hand, the local nobles would be vying to catch the regal eyes. It was customary for the Crown to bring wards from each of the Kingdoms, and during their tour thus far they had selected those individuals from the pools presented at each coming of age ball.
There were eleven noble families in the Kingdom of Isles and ten would be presenting young members of their Houses. Not all had truly come of age that past year, but the Crown would allow each a spot at the ball. The Siobhan family would be the only not represented -- Lady Leanna sitting instead at the Royal table alongside the King and his family.
The Royal Family had been seated first, with the Reuge family entering after them and paying their respects. They'd been led by Marco Reuge, the portly patriarch who strode in at the head of his retinue, dressed in his family colors of deep green and gray. He was an old man, closing in on six decades of life, and had assumed power in the Kingdom of Isles when he'd married the Lady Reuge, who was descended directly from King Triva.
Marco was a distant cousin of the Reuge family, and Isabella Reuge was the true claim to power. She was a product of the last Royal Tour, when King Triva had left an heir in the Isles -- her Grandmother.
She followed a few steps behind her husband, dressed in a loose flowing gown of similar colors. Her face was comely with the signs of graceful aging, and as she curtseyed in front of the King he saw the family resemblance -- they were distant cousins, after all -- and let his mind drift to the reality where the Reuge family had remained in power, and it had been her preparing him to create an heir.
He did not have long to linger on the pleasant thought, as she moved on and her son stepped forward and presented himself with a shallow bow. Sir Wallace Reuge -- a half decade older than the King, seasoned and salted by a dozen voyages defending the high seas. Tales of his endeavors were known throughout the Kingdoms, though behind closed doors the King was told for each pirate Sir Wallace captured or killed he aided two.
There had long been rumblings of the Kingdom of Isle's true dealings with the outlaws that raided up and down the Continent's coast. The King's advisers assured him looking the other way was a necessary evil for continued peace across the Empire.
The Reuge daughter -- who would have born the King's heir -- did not join in the procession. She would instead take part in the presentation to follow.
The families seated and the wine poured, the other noble families entered as well, standing in a ring along the edges of the room. The King raised his goblet to the Lord Reuge across the way. The older man raised his glass in turn and the two men drank.
"Let the next generation come of age!" Marco Reuge bellowed.
At that, the great doors were thrown open, and the ten young nobles entered the Great Hall. They walked side by side in two lines -- the boys to one side and the girls to another -- as lively music was struck up. Cheers came from the nobles as they saw their kin enter the room, and the King watched as the elder Reuge looked hungrily at the parade of nubile youths.
The ten young men and women walked to the center of the hall in a practiced manner, turning to face one another before entering into a choreographed dance. They twirled and stepped in rhythm, switching partners and showing themselves to each corner of the room.
After a few minutes they stopped and faced the Reuge family, bowing and curtseying in turn, before turning to present themselves to the Royals. They stood in two lines, the women in front and the men a few feet behind.
The King stood, the chamber silent, and stepped down to walk amongst the young men and women. He walked the row of men first, each clad in simple black trousers and a loose fitting white shirt. None caught his eye, but then men never did. He would leave them to his mother and cousin to claim.
Entega took his time inspecting the young women presented to him. They were all wearing the same loose fitting white dress, but the figures of some still pressed out to draw his eye. He lingered on a few, enjoying looking over their pretty faces, sharing the smiles they all gave him. None spoke -- not the men, women, or others throughout the Great Hall.
King Entega was ready to step back to his table, prepared to allow the rest of the Royal Family to choose their wards as he had at each of their previous spots. Were he to choose a ward, they would become a member of his personal retinue, one of his own. The Queen and Princess had so chosen individuals at each of the past stops during the Royal Tour.
Then the second to last girl in the row caught his eye. It wasn't her looks, though he appreciated her small mouth and slender cheekbones, or her body that drew his attention.
No, it was a small purple bruise on the left side of her face, just between her temple and her eye, that she had clearly tried to hide with makeup. He reached his hand up to tenderly run a thumb over the spot, the girl not so much as wincing or looking at the King as he did.
The King continued and returned to his table, stopping to speak to his steward.
"Her," he said, gesturing to the bruised girl. "The Queen and Princess may have their pick of the rest."
From his seat, the King sipped wine and watched his mother and cousin pounce upon the rest of the men and women. He pretended not to notice the murmurings throughout the room, and it wasn't until he caught the look of rage in Sir Wallace Reuge's eye that he realized what he had done.
He had just taken the Reuge daughter as his ward, a day after formally removing their family from power.
The middle of the Great Hall cleared, and the transition to feasting happened quickly. Tables were brought in, music started up again, and the celebration began in earnest. Wine flowed, food was abundant, and as the night wore on the normal formality of nobility melted away.
King Entega watched, standing behind the Royal table with a goblet of wine in hand, as his cousin played with her new toys, having them feed her and fetch her wine, touching their bodies and having them touch hers, all without ever so much as glancing at the King.
His mother, though, watched him intently. She held him in her gaze it seemed every time he looked over, always searching for some level of understanding. What was she thinking? It seemed there was unease on her face, even an ounce of respect. The boys and girls she had chosen were mingling throughout the party, using their newfound celebrity to attract and enjoy similarly beautiful little lords and ladies.
Yet it was Marco Reuge who had the King's attention for most of the night. It seemed he was never without a glass of wine in his hand and a whore in his lap. Shortly after the feast had begun, three beautiful young women, olive skinned with seemingly impossible figures, joined him at his table.
The rotated through sitting on his lap, kneeling by his side, and serving him his food and drink. His wife sat three seats down beside her son, seemingly paying no mind as her husband disrobed and enjoyed his women.
The young Reuge woman was given a seat behind the King at a smaller table for other members of the Royal retinue, and he paid her little mind until she stepped up to his side.
