Author's Note - This series is a continuation of 'The Prince's Potion,' and set around twenty years later. Though not necessary, I strongly recommend reading those stories prior to this one. I realize my stories are not for everyone. If you're not interested in exaggerated sex organs, incest, inbreeding, and medieval/fantasy settings, this may not be for you. Thank you all for the continued support and feedback!
All characters in sexual situations are 18 or older.
Chapter 8 - GRISTULT
A few miles off the southwestern coast of Gristult is a tropical island owned entirely by the Averone family. Nylus Averone, the ninety-year-old King of Gristult, spends his last remaining days here, in a place of beauty and abundance, at his family's palatial manor. Built on a large hill overlooking the sea, their getaway home is a massive structure of expensive hardwood, ancient stone, and the finest marble money can buy.
Historically, it was home to a small village of farmers and fishermen, but several poor seasons and an aging population eventually led to total resettlement to the mainland, and culminating in the island's complete seizure by the royals. Presently, the island serves as the Averone's private paradise. Well-guarded, lush, and verdant, it is a sprawling ecosystem with a diverse group of land animals and rare birds found only here.
Despite the agreeable climate and privacy, Queen Celeste Averone, Nylus' second wife, and fifty years his junior, couldn't find the place more
boring!
Lying comfortably across one of the large back patio's plushy couches, and in little more than her lacy white panties, the scantly clad royal sipped on a cold beverage as she prepared for yet another scorching hot day. The Averones have been on the island for almost three months. It was Celeste's longest stint here thus far and she was actively counting the days until their return to the mainland.
Celeste still considered herself a trendy socialite, a social animal in her prime and was anxious to get back to the vibrant nightlife of the capital city on the mainland. The only daughter of modest farmers from southern Gristult, her marriage to Nylus was hardly a surprise given his lecherous nature for young flesh following the death of his first wife and Celeste's singular aspiration of achieving a trophy wife status in her teens. What a surprise when her family's debts were paid off in exchange for her hand in marriage. She is well-liked by the Averone's, if something of an oddity among them for her impulsive, bubbly and outgoing nature.
Beloved by the people of Gristult and noted for her charity work, education programs, as well as her many philanthropic initiatives over the years, Celeste is easily the most public facing of the royal family. Blessed with an incredibly well-proportioned body and stunning good looks, Celeste is pretty, funny, and looks after herself. She has sharp features - a big bright smile, piercing sapphire-blue eyes, her birth family's unique silvery-blonde hair, and a fantastic set of tits on her tall, trim figure. Known for her love of lavish galas and balls, Celeste always looks for an excuse to party. This was generally seen as a boon to the Averone royals when she'd first married the aged king, who desperately needed the public favor and admiration Celeste brought so naturally.
Celeste, for all these reasons and more, abhorred the quiet serenity of the island. It just wasn't for her. The sandy beaches, the pristine waters, the heat. It was all so monotonous! She could hardly stand to stay put for a long weekend, let alone three months! Except Nylus
was
dying.
Celeste loved the old king who had essentially elevated her to royalty - despite marrying her young, grooming her, and taking her maidenhead with his
big thing
before she had a solid understanding of what such a high-profile position being Queen truly meant. Celeste had made the most of it.
Then along came little Neel, her only child. As handsome as any of his three older half-brothers, Neel was uniquely different, with Celeste's silvery hair and his unusual penchant for magic. Prince Neel Averone, now a young man by all respects, was fourth in line for the throne. Celeste couldn't see her son as anything other than her darling baby boy for whom she would do anything. She was grateful to have the means to provide for Neel and hardly cared if he should ever sit on the throne of Gristult.
No matter,
she thought. The fact was the impending death of her husband, sad as it may be, would change little in terms of the daily life Celeste or her son lived. In a sense, being so far down the line of succession, Neel was free to live without the hassle of preparation for ruling. The long-deceased first wife of Nylus had given him three strong sons, all grown men now, and who were keen to make their mark on the thriving agrarian kingdom. Prince Neel would inherit land, princely titles, and marry befitting his station. He would proudly bear the Averone name... but little more.
Celeste yawned, reclining half-naked on the spacious veranda this morning. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night.
Birds chirped ceaselessly in the distance as she stretched a long, delicate leg in the air and examined it. The view was incredible today, but she could hardly be bothered. Was she truly as at peace with the idea of becoming a widow,
a queen cast aside
, as she told herself? She knew history would largely sweep over her son, and by extension, his mother. This feeling of existential dread hung over Celeste more and more as her husband's condition worsened.
Their legacy.
What was going to happen to them when Prince Nyron took the throne?
She relaxed and lay flat, letting her lithe form absorb the heat. There was no resentment or ill will towards anyone in the family. Celeste was younger than all three of her stepchildren. She knew she had simply been there to bring comfort to her much older husband in his golden years. Now that duty was coming to an end.
She yawned again, another late night. The heat, even this early, was becoming unbearable. In the shade of a wide canopy, thoughts of the future kept her mind occupied. Sweat beaded down her round tanned breasts and trim stomach. Her thoughts went back to Neel. The boy was bright and friendly. He made friends easily and even showed a real promise in the ways of magic. Were he not an Averone, Celeste would have gladly acquiesced to his demands and sent him to the Arcane Academy years ago.
Except the old King never allowed it.
Too many variables
, he would always grumble.
Too many unknowns at that dreadful school!
Nylus did not share Celeste's opinions about their son. As the years went on and his health declined, the old king may have even resented her for it, sinking more and more into his seclusion.
Finally spurred into action, probably by hunger, Celeste reached for her shawl and draped it over her glistening figure. She gingerly slipped on tiny sandals and stepped into her private solar. Though still early, she could hear chatter deeper within the great manse. Many lords and nobles had made the short trip from the mainland to pay their respects. They were a constant source of irritation for the royals, especially Celeste.
Sucking up to their new King while the old one lies dying.
Walking around the kitchens, she eventually flagged one of her handmaidens for information.
'They're all with his majesty,' the heavyset woman hastily explained. She had a wide silver tray with a steaming breakfast in her hands but naturally stopped for her Queen.
'And his condition?'
'His majesty had an awful coughing fit last night. I tried to find you... but you weren't in your room.'
Celeste waved the woman to continue.
'His majesty eventually settled down. Then he called in the nobles with Prince Nyron a few hours ago. He's been dictating to them ever since.'
'And now?' Celeste probed.
'Well... the dictation continues, majesty.'
'And where is this going?' she said, eyeing the hot platter of food intently.
'Prince Neel, majesty. He'll only take his breakfast in bed these days.'
