Princess of Thieves

by Bella Beaumont

  Sala shook her head. “He’s not dead, Alb. The big hunk’s still alive.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Heard him screaming and struggling from ten blocks away, boss. I hear he killed five of the bastards.”

  “I heard it was fifteen,” Filtray said with half a smile.

  Alberus grunted, eyeing both of them. Then he looked past them. “Nemya, how are you holding up? Not too well, I can see.”

  The sniveling woman wiped at her tear-stricken face, smearing the saltiness all over her delicate features, then looked up with bloodshot eyes. With a shaky voice, she said, “W-We finally professed our love for one another, and then he’s snatched away from me before our love was even consummated!” She broke into another fit of weeping.

  “From what I heard,” Sala said, raising a single finger, “you were right in the middle of that consummation when the soldiers appeared.”

  “S-S-Shut up, Sala!” Nemya shrieked. “Now’s not the tiiime!”

  Sala’s blank face slowly softened—perhaps for the first time that Filtray had ever seen—as the huge woman stared at her shrunken sister. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Nemya,” she said, genuine caring in her voice.

  A little voice replied, face hidden between knees. “I-It’s okay. I f-forgive you.”

  Filtray wiped a tear from his own eye, before it could fall. He’d never seen his sex-craved sisters so wholesome and pleasant with one another. It was adorable, yet heartbreaking.

  “The question now,” Alberus said, “is how do we get him back? We must think on this, ladies and . . . gentle, gentle man.”

  Filtray nodded. “And the princess?”

  Alberus sighed, propping himself up on his elbows. “Still with Stecker, I take it?”

  Another nod.

  “We must find them, too. But I have an idea of where they might be . . .” The back of his skull barely touched the headboard behind him, but he yelped in seething pain. “Gah! Fuck! I . . . I need to rest a little longer.”

  “Good,” Sala said, nodding. “Do it. Recover, boss, and we’ll throw some ideas at you when you’ve awoken.”

  Alberus nodded, reclined, and closed his eyes. He was out in a matter of seconds.

  THE ENTIRE GROUP, IN fact, fell asleep within less than an hour. Nemya was too sad to come up with schemes, and Sala had never been the thinker of the group, and they were all so tired.

  Filtray popped his head up once he heard snoring coming from all three bodies—the two women on the floor, and their wounded master on the bed. He looked up and saw that Nemya had actually moved to the bed, and was now a lumpy form cuddling next to Alberus, one hand thrown across his huge belly.

  The young man smiled. It was a tender father-daughter moment, he realized, and he hoped he’d get to see it again.

  He slowly got up from the floor—as light as a bird, so as not to make noise—then tiptoed over Sala and exited the room. The door creaked as he opened and quietly closed it, but everyone was too worn out to be woken.

  Alberus saying that he had an idea where Stecker might be . . . it had given Filtray his own idea.

  Filtray Naggan knew of Stecker’s past life. He knew of the man’s many stints in jails, on pirate ships, in royal holds . . .

  And it only made sense that he might go to one of his usual haunts—somewhere familiar, where he had friends other than the Siblinghood—to hole up for a while with the princess.

  He had about an hour left of night with which to stalk the city streets. Then the hustle and bustle of daytime would arrive, waking the city from its drunken stupor, and he didn’t want to be out then.

  Luckily, the Sleepy Ox was close by where he wanted to go.

  Filtray was so lost in his thoughts as he left the tavern that he didn’t notice the shadowy presence lift up from behind the corner booth and follow him outside.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Stecker pulled his fat wet cock out of Princess Catera’s dripping pussy and wagged it in the air as it softened. He watched her pink hole breathe and tremble, while her legs twitched every so often.

  Wiping his long floppy penis on the cot’s bedsheets, Stecker smiled down at the temporarily stunned princess. He searched for his drawers and found them lying in a pile near the foot of the bed, then he took a moment to pull them on and stuff himself into the crusty fabric.

  The room reeked of warm sex, river water, and sweat. The cot was twice as grimy and nasty as when they’d arrived, but neither party seemed to care.

  Catera finally lowered her raised legs as she felt Stecker’s thick, lumpy cum drizzle down her canal. Her frantic moans had dwindled to needy panting, her chest rising and falling fast. A film of sweat covered her naked body. She had been trapped in a near-constant orgasmic state as Stecker drilled her again, but that state was fluttering away—her twitching stopped, though her mouth was still agape in a dazed awe.

  She watched Stecker at the foot of the bed as he put pants on and struggled to squeeze his monster cock into the crotch area, bending it and stuffing it down with both hands. Once it slunk down his pant leg and rested like a sleeping snake against his right thigh, the bulge was almost unnoticeable, despite the enormous nuts she knew the slender man was packing.

  It was incredible, she realized, how much she had underestimated Ano Stecker. Yes, he was a vagrant and an outlaw, a short, wiry man who was not particularly physically imposing. But he also had a genuine kindness to him that Catera had rarely seen before in a man—especially coming from her sheltered, royal life in Sefyr Castle.

  He was charming, witty, and had a smile that stole her heart. The cute boy was the full package, and it didn’t hurt that he sported a full package down below.

  Catera was at first worried that she would not be able to accommodate the young man, seeing as that he was as hung as a packhorse. But they’d quickly passed by that literal roadblock.

  He was only fierce in his lovemaking—the man seemed unquestionably tender and humble at all other times. It was the best of both worlds, for Catera, and the princess found herself wondering how many other women Stecker had had in his life.

  How many harlots and friends have been as awestruck as I was when he first pulled out that intimidating appendage? How many women have been dominated by the randy rascal, mounted like horses, folded like letters, their holes gaping like a crater—and how many have fallen in love with the man after that?

  Her mind wandering, she felt a pang of unwarranted jealousy rise through her. The man could go on forever, if this night had been any indication, and he was incredibly savvy at making women lose their minds to pleasure.

  How many other women have gone stupid from Stecker’s satisfying endowment?

  She quickly tossed the notion aside, understanding that her train of thought had gotten away from her—it would provide nothing valuable to her life, and would lead her down a dark path.

  I’m being silly. I have no reason to be jealous—I’ve never seen him so much as look at another woman while in my presence!

  While he’s with me . . . he’s with me completely.

  At first, she had been worried that Stecker wanted to get close to her because of her title and station in life. After all, marrying a princess—especially in a life like Stecker’s—was the ultimate dream, wasn’t it?

  But as time had passed . . . a swift amount of time, she recalled . . . she came to realize that he truly did care for her because of who she was, not what she represented.

  The representation wasn’t a bad thing, of course. Wealth, power, prestige. Beauty, health, entitlement. Even if Catera hadn’t been born a privileged princess, she was still a commanding presence. But the fact that she was the second most powerful person in the Sefyr Kingdom . . . for all intents and purposes . . . certainly meant something.

  That sapling of doubt crept back into her head.

  But if Stecker would abandon his own brothers and sisters, as he calls them . . . for my sake . . . can I trust that he won’t do the sa
me to me? Once the next shiny thing shows up?

  Stecker narrowed his eyes on her, seeing the captivated look on her face. “Are . . . you all right, Cat? You’re looking at me strangely. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  She made a choking sound, clamping her mouth shut as she was suddenly brought back from her reverie. Shaking her head wildly, she said, “N-No! Not at all. I’m fine. Just . . . thinking.”

  Stecker groaned as he splayed out on the bed next to her, on his stomach. It was easy to recognize that the night they’d spent on Captain Journigan’s ship had been the most peaceful, serene time since they’d known each other. Where it seemed like chaos abound all around them, outside—in here, they were safe.

  At least it seemed that way.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, running a hand over her belly.

  She smiled. “You.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Tell me more.” Then he smirked.

  A knock came at their little door—the first one all night.

  Looking up through the barred window overhead, Catera saw that the sky had turned a pale blue. Dawn was fast approaching.

  “Yes?” Stecker said, rolling off the bed to rise to his feet. He went and answered the door shirtless.

  Catera quickly threw the damp bedsheet over her naked body.

  Captain Journigan laughed as the door was opened. He gave Stecker an up-and-down look. “By the ungrateful sea, lad, ya need to put some meat on them bony bones.” Then he glanced past Stecker, to the huddled form of Catera, the covers brought up past her breasts. Her freckled shoulders, slender neck, and pretty face still showed. Her eyes were wide as the large, grizzly captain smirked at her.

  “Finally a moment of peace and quiet ‘tween ya two rabbits!” Journigan continued. “I swear it, boy, if ya ain’t put a baby in her already, it ain’t gonna happen!”

  He broke into a rumbling fit of laughter.

  Catera gasped and flushed pink.

  Stecker frowned, shying away from the door. “J-Journ, stop it.” He scratched the back of his neck, the embarrassment almost too much to bear. “Is there a reason you’ve disturbed us, or did you just want a peek at Catera like the pervert I know you are.”

  Journigan grunted, but seemed to take no offense at the slight. “Hrm. Ah, yes, there was a reason I came to interrupt yer two’s marathon. Y’got a guest on the deck, wants to speak with ya.”

  Stecker tilted his head, the color leaving his cheeks. “A . . . guest? What’s the name?”

  “Calls himself Fil.”

  Filtray! How did he find me?!

  “Looks like you just seen a ghost, Steck. Should I be worried? The lad is a bit . . . ghostly, I suppose. Fat-bottomed, though. Nothin’ wrong with that, I tell ya.”

  Stecker waved off his talkative friend. “No, no, it’s fine. He’s on the foredeck you say?”

  “Aye. Could bring him down here if ya want?”

  “No, that’s fine,” Stecker quickly replied. “I’ll meet him up there.”

  Don’t want Catera to be seen . . .

  Not yet. What if Filtray is hiding the other members of the Siblinghood off the docks? Am I walking into a trap—er, an ambush?

  He turned, said to Catera, “I’ll be back soon.”

  To which she replied with a nod. “Be careful.”

  STECKERS BOOTS STUDDED on the deck as he approached Filtray. The young man seemed to have a strong look on his face—

  Is it . . . confidence? If so, I’m proud of the lad. Been too long since I’ve seen that!

  “Fil,” Stecker said, stopping just five paces from him.

  Filtray was nearly leaning against the railing off the ship, just off the gangplank leading up to it. He nodded. “Steck. Good to see you’re still alive.”

  “Is it?”

  “Of course. Don’t be a fool. I thought you told me all those things—gave me that note from Princess Ocena—because you trusted me?”

  Stecker nodded. “Can’t trust anyone these days, Fil. Don’t take it personally.”

  Filtray grunted. He scratched his pale cheek, which was starting to grow stubble—a shock for Stecker to see, because Filtray had always been as clean-shaven as a baby.

  “Where’s the rest of the gang?” Stecker asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  Now Stecker grunted. “Fair point.”

  “Is the princess okay?”

  “She’s fine.”

  There was a momentary pause as the two stared at each other. Stecker, though short, was a couple inches taller than Filtray, who could be described as soft and diminutive. But Captain Journigan hadn’t lied when he said the dandy was “fat-bottomed”—it seemed Filtray had grown into his body, in a way, and with it came a renewed sense of purpose.

  “You look good,” Stecker said, breaking the silence.

  “You look . . . sweaty.”

  Stecker ran a hand through his dark curly hair. “It’s hot as a harlot’s asshole down in the deckhouse.”

  Filtray scoffed. “It’s not because you’ve been fucking the princess?”

  Caught off-guard, Stecker’s head jolted back. “Erm. T-That’s not your business.”

  Filtray nodded solemnly, like it was the worst thing Stecker could have done, falling for her. The look of disappointment on his face saddened Stecker, because the boy had always seemingly looked up to him.

  But, that came with the territory. He had abandoned them, after all . . . and in their time of most dire need.

  “Look,” Stecker said, finding himself growing a bit annoyed and angry, however undeserved it might’ve been. “If you’ve come to try to bring me back, I can’t be recruited again like some kid. I don’t know how you found me, but—”

  “I haven’t,” Filtray interjected. He pursed his lips. “You’re not the only sleuth in the Siblinghood, Steck. Er, were . . . in the Siblinghood, I mean. Was? Whatever. I’m sneaky, too.”

  Stecker chuckled. “Fair enough. How’s old Alb doing?”

  “I had to knock him over the head with a rock so we could escape the tunnels.”

  With a grunt, Stecker nodded. “Sounds like Alb. Stubborn as always. What, did he want to be left behind?”

  “Not . . . in so many words.”

  “Well, you did escape, right? So, that sounds like a win.”

  “Not all of us, Steck.”

  Stecker’s eyes widened with fear. He blinked. “Oh no . . . Filtray. W-Who?”

  “Dered.”

  “Is he . . .”

  A firm shake of Filtray’s head. “Not yet. I don’t think. But probably soon. That’s why I’ve come, Steck. Believe me, if the other knew I was here right now, not trying to obtain the princess, they’d tar and feather me.”

  Stecker nodded. “I understand. So, Dered was captured fending off your escape, then?”

  Filtray nodded. “I hear he killed between five and fifteen of the bastards.”

  Stecker smirked, his eyes narrowing. “Good. He always was the most adept with a sword out of us. The brawn, if you will.”

  With a click of his tongue, Filtray bobbed his head back and forth. “Ehh . . . I think Sala could take him.”

  “Well, we’ve seen him take her, on the center table of the Hefty Teat . . .”

  Filtray laughed, then rubbed the back of his head as he recalled that moment with some embarrassment. “True.”

  With the mood somewhat lightened, they both stared at each other, neither of them willing to speak the next words.

  Finally, Stecker sighed. “What can I do, Fil? Even if you all hate me now, I still consider you my brothers and sisters.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’ve come. Stupid as it may be.” Filtray finally moved from the railing, grunting and limping to pace in front of Stecker.

  Stecker noticed the limp and gave the boy a worried look. “A-Are you hurt?”

  “Oh, this?” Filtray said, then waved him off. “No, it’s nothing. Sala.”

  Stecker raised a single brow b
emusedly. “Ah.”

  “I know your past, Steck,” Filtray said, still pacing. “I know you’ve spent time . . . uhh . . .”

  “In jail cells and prisons? It’s all right, Fil, you can say it. I’m not ashamed.”

  “Yes, well. I was hoping you could use your expertise in those areas to, maybe . . . help Dered? I know he’s probably your least favorite of the Siblinghood.”

  Stecker snorted. “He’s still a brother. How long do you think I have until he’s executed?”

  Filtray shrugged. “A few days of torture, I’d expect, as the king’s men try to force our whereabouts out of him.”

  “Does Dered even know where you all would be staying?”

  “I think so.”

  “Hm.” Stecker tugged at the flap of skin under his chin. Coming to a decision, he nodded. In times like these, his mind tended to work quickly—it was one of his strong suits. “Okay. You should get out of here before you’re seen.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  A nod. “I’ll try, Fil. Can’t promise anything.”

  Filtray smiled for the first time the entire meeting. “I knew you would.” When the smile vanished, he said hesitantly, “When this . . . is all over . . . I hope you can come back to us, Steck. I know it’s only been a night, but I already miss you. I think we all do.”

  “I appreciate that, Fil. We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

  “Alberus is heartbroken,” the young man continued, although his mind told him to stop. His heart couldn’t be shut off. He was close to tears as he said, “His two favorite boys are gone—you and Dered. The big man and the smart man. He’s left with only me . . . and I’m not much of a man at all.”

  Stecker took a step forward and put a hand on Fil’s slumping shoulders. “Don’t say that, Fil. You’re a better man than all of us, coming here. Dered got himself captured and I betrayed my family. We aren’t men to look up to, Fil . . .”

  With a sniffle, Filtray nodded. He turned around and headed toward the gangplank. “I . . . hope to see you around, Steck.”