by Lana Hartley
“The Council will work through the night if needed be,” Nicholas laughs, reaching for me and resting one hand atop my right breast, gentle squeezing it as my nipple hardens against the palm of his hand.
“Ah, the Council,” I giggle, feeling just like a little girl, “I’m the Queen, why does the Council makes me work this hard?”
“Because the Council is in love with you,” Lucien whispers into my ear, softly nibbling at it. I close my eyes as he says it, my eyelids drooping by instinct, and I let an heavy sigh leave my lips.
“You’re in luck...The Queen loves her council as well,” I reply, that pleasant warmness spreading through my body, my pussy growing wet with each passing second. Lucky for me, I have the most perfect seven men in my bed right now, and they’re all ready to take care of me.
Do you remember how we met? Yes, I’m talking about you and me. Remember the way I ran my hand over my tiara, thinking of how much I wanted Prince Gladrell? That’s right — things changed fast, didn’t they?
You followed me through the Lost Wood as I ran, my heart thrashing inside my chest, and you saw as these seven men walked out of the darkness and held me in their arms. You’ve been with me right from the very beginning, and so I think I owe it to you: I’ll tell you how my story ends. Or begins — it really depends on how you look at it.
After being crowned Queen Snow, the next few days were some of the most exhausting of my life. Sure, posing for photographs and waving at people might seem like the full extent of what a monarch does, but there’s a lot more. Particularly a lot more paperwork. And, after replacing someone as Moira, you can be sure that my new office in the palace had stacks of documents lining up the walls.
I survived these days, though. I reversed the nationalization process Moira had put into motion, repealed her legislative changes, and even presided over her trial. Gladrell’s lawyers still tried to push for a royal pardon, but I flat out refused. If this was a family spat, sure, I might have considered it. But Moira and Gladrell messed with St. Carlta — they messed with my people — and that’s something I simply can’t forgive.
What happened to them? I entered into an agreement with the States and extradited them there. Right now they’re probably banging their heads against the wall of their cells. No happy ending for the former Prince and Queen.
Of course, you can’t expect me to run a country like my own — specially since I have so many ideas I want to see implemented. Sure, I have my father’s support and guidance, but I needed something more...And that’s the Council — seven men devoted to their Queen, offering their guidance, support...and love.
Richard, Derek, Malcolm, Tyler, Lucien, Nicholas, and William — these are the seven names I’ve learned to purr and moan out loud.
These are my Council, and I’m their Queen.
“Hey, what are you thinkin’ about?” Lucien whispers, brushing his fingertips up from my knee to my inner thigh.
“A lot of things,” I purr; then, moving fast, I curl my fingers around his wrist and force him to press his hand against my naked pussy. “But right now, I don’t want to be thinking of anything...”
“That can be arranged.”
Every fairy-tale deserves an happy ending — and this is mine.
Snow
“QUEEN SNOW, QUEEN SNOW!” The crowd chants, and I keep on smiling as I wave my hand. Standing at the back of an open-top car, I keep one hand on Richard’s shoulder as I wave, the thousands of people lining the road screaming my name in such a way that I can’t even hear the car’s engine work.
“They still haven’t grown tired of me,” I say, looking back at the seven men sitting in the long seats behind mine.
“And they never will,” Derek laughs, throwing one arm over his seat and casually waving at the crowd. Some of the women closer to the barriers and chanting their names, but I’m already used to it — after all, that’s par for the course when you’re in a relationship with the seven most handsome men in the realm.
We drive for fifteen minutes more, parading around town for the millions of people that have gathered in the capital. I actually don’t think I’ve ever seen this many people in the same place at once. The streets are so packed with people and flags that I feel like a Roman Empress, coming home after a victorious campaign.
Finally, as our car arrives at the Main Square, I can’t help but gasp. Despite the thousands of people gathered there, they’ve built a majestic stage at the end of the square, a red carpet stretching all the way from where our car stopped to the steps leading up to the stage.
“Queen,” the seven men nod at me as they leave the car. Going down on one knee by the side of the carpet, they wait for me to get out of the car, and only then do they go up to their feet. I’ve never cared that much about protocol and royal etiquette, but I had to make a few concessions to appease a few of the oldest nobles — I mean, I’m sleeping in a bed with seven men every night...I have to make a few concessions.
“Come,” I tell them, and I actually stop for a second just to look at them. When I met for the first time they looked rugged and ready to topple down the government but now, clean shaven and wearing their military uniforms...well, let’s just say I got to stop looking at them, or else I won’t be able to focus during the whole ceremony.
As I climb up the stairs, the whole crowd becomes silent, waiting as I position myself behind the podium. Feeling that nervousness taking over me, I run my tongue between my lips and take a deep breath.
“I can’t start to tell you how happy I am to see you all gathered here today,” I start, and everyone starts cheering. I have to wait a few seconds, but then I continue. “One year ago, we all witnessed what happened here, in this exact place. You raised your voices, you made yourselves heard, and we carried out your will. St. Carlta is back on its rightful place, among the greatest democracies the world has ever known, and that’s because of you – the people.”
Now the crowd really goes wild. They start clapping for so long that I have no idea how they manage to do it. They only become quieter when Richard walks forward, standing by my side; giving him some room, I step to the side and he takes over the mic.
“Thank you, your Highness,” he says, nodding at me. “I guess I speak for all of St. Carlta when I say we’re the one who should be grateful. You never faltered, you never gave up.” The crowd’s about to embark on another round of applause, but Richard raises his hand and stops it before it happens. “You’ve broken the chains of tyranny, forged an alliance with the United States, and now our country has blossomed. As a token of our appreciation, we have a gift for you.”
“A gift?” I whisper, looking at Richard and then back, staring at the other six men. They simply show me their smiles, and then Derek points into the distance. Turning my gaze there, I hold my breath as I see something in a corner of the square, right opposite King Alphonse’s statue. There’s something massive there, but there’s an enormous blue sheet covering it.
“On one side of this square, stands King Alphonse, our founder,” Richard continues, his voiced filled with excitement. “And now I’m proud to say that, on the other side, stands our liberator – Queen Snow!”
At that, someone tugs on the blue sheet, and it falls down in a hurry to reveal the largest statue I’ve ever seen. At the top of a giant rock are statues of the Council, all the seven men I’ve come to love; they’re on their knees, a defiant expression on their faces, and they’re carrying a massive broad shield. On top of that shield there’s a statue of me, one hand raised up in the air and pointing toward the Heavens.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, placing one hand in front of my mouth. I resist the urge to simply ran toward them, jump into their laps and kiss them all over, and so I simply stand there, looking at the statue and having no idea what to think. This goes beyond anything I could’ve expected.
“Like it?” Richard whispers, looking toward me and winking. Then, turning his focus back to the crowd, he continues to speak. “Let all fu
ture generations remember the woman who lead us. Let them remember that, in our darkest hours, there’s always someone that refuses to let the light of hope falter and die. And now...Let us celebrate, for that person is right here with us!” He finishes, pointing toward me, and the crowd roars so loud that I feel my own body trembling.
“This is your day, Snow,” Derek says, leaning toward me and whispering these words into my ear.
“No, this is our day. Liberation Day,” I whisper back at him and, for a second, I just close my eyes and take a deep breath.
Everything I fought for, it all led to his moment.
A moment of happiness.
A moment of love.
Two Beasts
A Dark Fairy Tale Menage Romance
By Lana Hartley
Copyright 2018 by Dark Princess Press
All rights reserved
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.
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Isadora
I’d hoped to never marry, but I allowed the Queen to teach me that there could be a suitable compromise.
After all, the Queen is my mother.
I never thought that compromise would stretch me so far… An arranged marriage isn’t so strange, even nowadays. But an arranged marriage with not one but two would-be kings?
I face the mirror again, looking to erase my tension on my face and then in my mind. “I’m Isadora Brevintos, and I have to marry, as I’m the princess of my nation.” I repeat the words, brushing my hair and hoping working the comb through my long strands will help to calm my nerves.
I catch my mother’s image in the mirror, and any relaxation that might have crept over me slinks back and I see my forehead crinkle.
My mother and queen, never one to shy away from war, decided she would keep a peace arrangement in play rather than let tensions rise among the surrounding and powerful nations. “Yes, you will do your duty to your nation,” she says, her mouth forming a stern line. She smiles, an attempt at warmth that doesn’t quite penetrate my nerves. “You look every bit a princess, my child, and this brilliant move will mean so much for our country.” Her eyes beam with pride.
Her hands are resting on my shoulders now, and I reach up to squeeze them for comfort, but she pulls away. I don’t think she realizes she does it as she walks away. The queen is rambling on about duty, honor, and other things that I’ve already intoned to myself, already heard a thousand times.
It’s this coldness in her that I fear I have in myself. Perhaps I’m still a virgin and have no interest in men, because I despise affection like my mother seems to.
My mother had me, but her husband and my father, he no longer lives.
Perhaps it is me who is unlovable, I worry.
It’s a dreadful thought. I hope that it isn’t the case. I hope the two princes I’m arranged to marry do not feel that way about me. More than anything, I hope that they are just as unhappy with this situation and therefore empathize with my hesitance to do certain…things that married people must do.
I’m not ready for any of that!
I finish brushing my hair before the stress makes me brush the strands into a static electric mess, and I stand up.
“Good, you’re ready. I want you to appear eager,” the queen says, and when her eyes take me she grimaces. “Smile, you aren’t being led to slaughter.” There’s almost laughter in her voice, but I can’t help notice how it seems to hide…disgust.
I don’t want to think such horrid thoughts about my mother, especially not when she’s bringing a peaceful compromise to a nation I will one day rule. I don’t want war, I don’t want famine.
Marriage is a small price to pay to save untold lives of my future subjects.
I smooth my hands over my brocade and jewelled gown, so lavish that I was afraid to put it on. It took two handmaidens to cinch me.
What if it takes two princes to un-cinch the dress? My face heats at the idea, and I’m horrified.
I keep walking forward, leaving my chambers and heading to the grand ballroom of the palace I’ve always called home. I feel as though I’m in a foreign land, though the princes have both come here in order to agree to wed me. Though there are many customs and traditions that are much neglected in these modern times, it seems none will be when it comes to this arrangement.
I can barely breathe thinking about what little I do know about the different ceremonies. I’m terrified of the betrothal ceremony, and it is the first and possibly least frightening of them all. It doesn’t involve more touching than a holding of hands, if I remember the protocol correctly, and that can’t be so bad.
But then I see them both.
Wow. Just wow.
These two princes are stunning in the pictures that I’ve seen, and when I see them in person I know that those photographs do them no justice. They are so attractive that it almost hurts my eyes. Like, I’m saying this, the person who cares nothing about dating and has had zero interest in men. But they are outstandingly, incredibly attractive. Broad shoulders, strong chests, and chiselled abs I can see defined through their shirts. Charming smiles and sensual eyes; even their jawlines are godlike.
My body is utterly betraying me right now, because I feel a dampness in my panties that shocks me. I’m wet. I never get wet, especially not just seeing a man…or two.
Aaaand I’d hoped that we wouldn’t even work on an heir till later. I know that there are ceremonies—not unlike this betrothal ceremony, but GOD, I am going to have to sleep with both of them… Now I’m not too worried about it.
Can I still be a slut if the two men I want to sleep with are literally vowing to marry me right now?
Despite myself, I kind of want it.
And now I feel like I can be crushed. Because, before I saw them, I was hoping they’d be just as reluctant as I was. Now, I’m hoping that they’re not going to be reluctant when they see me…
Shit. I have more important things to worry about. We are uniting three countries, and I want to do my duty for my own country and for the world. I can’t be worried about dumb things like if I’m not pretty enough for them. It’s a bad enough I’m a virgin.
Pleasing two husbands can’t be much harder than pleasing one, and I remember what my mother said. She said pleasing men was easy, but that I’d need to worry about pleasing myself through my duty.
Well, I’m doing my duty.
And that’s going to mean pleasing these two men!
I might faint as walk toward them, but I keep taking deep breaths and keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Vincent
I straighten my hands over my suit to keep from clenching them in to fists like I want to. “War works for business, works for economy, works for everyone but our people. That’s why I agreed to this arrangement.” I clear my throat and look at the man I’ve never been able to stomach for more than a few moments with in the past, and now I’m going to share a wife with him. “It isn’t because your sparkling personality won me, over, Nathan,” I say, trying not to choke on my words at that. Nathan is scheming shit that I wouldn’t want to share a country with, much less anything else. “But I understand that we’re in this together,” I say and straighten my mouth, keeping frustrations off my face and calmness over my facade. “I know this is what’s best for all of our nations. For the world.” That’s the truth, so it tastes less like a dried out lime when I say those final words.
Nathan’s eyes light up with the kind of mischief that shone over his schemes in school. “Oh?” is all he says, exhaling for a moment and looking toward the door our shared wife will soon walk through. I went to a special preparatory academy with Nathan Torthan, and I knew w
e were opposite personalities from the moment that we met. “Do you remember the way we met?” Nathan says, wanting to push me toward frustration.
I say nothing.
“You just aren’t a team kind of guy, and I hear that Isadora is quite the prodigy in many ways; not others, of her mother’s,” Nathan says and raises an eyebrow. I can tell that he wants to get a rise out of me by dangling his dick out that he has some kind of information that I fucking don’t have. He thinks he’ll snare me into his game. Nathan’s a scheming asshole, and I just don’t have time for his crap. I’ll play his little game only as much as I have to.
“I remember you ensuing chaos in one of our diplomacy classes, and yet here you are,” I laugh the words, though they’re full of the poison that being in the same air as him does to me. I don’t work well with others, and I doubt I’ll ever be able to get past just barely getting this alliance to work since Nathan is that partner now.
Fuck, do you hear what I’m saying?
I don’t work well with others, and I’m going to join three nations with a marriage. Fuuuuuuck…
I’m standing across from Nathan now, and I don’t even want to look at him, like I’m swept up in some petty charade that he likes to play at. “Look at her,” I say with my voice actually threatening to waver now. Damn. Even Nathan can’t distract me from the sight of her.
Isadora Brevintos is gorgeous. I knew she was a knockout before now. We both did. Dickheads or not, neither Nathan nor I would marry some hag just because her head wore a crown. We both sleep around enough that we’d just acquire power otherwise. Isadora is beautiful.
But the sight of her now, walking toward us in an utterly elegant gown and stepping forward tentative yet so pure.
Well, when I see Nathan clench his fists, I know he’s thinking exactly what I am. His mouth purses for a second before the mask he always wears overtakes his face.
