Chapter 3- the Pervert Prince pt. 3
Meanwhile, Cyril awoke that morning, his dreams fraught with thoughts of Mikhaela and what activities she participated in at the castle. After a cold shower, he went through some training, had breakfast, packed, and then waited in front of the inn for Mikhaela. As the morning dragged on and came to 11, Cyril started to wonder what could have happened to her. He briefly wondered if Mikhaela could have decided to stay with prince Anthony but pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. A little after 11, the innkeeper came out to see how Cyril was doing.
“Hello dearie,” She greeted, “I’ll start serving lunch soon. Would you like to come inside?”
“That’s very kind of you but I should wait out here for my teacher to return,” Cyril stated.
“I see. Where did your pretty, little friend go last night?”
Cyril didn’t want to have to think about it but he figured he’d give the innkeeper an answer.
“She was invited to dinner with prince Anthony.”
Cyril noticed the innkeeper s face gained a surprised and sorrowful expression, not unlike to villager’s expressions at the tavern and in town the previous day.
“I see,” He said,“You know something don’t you?”
The innkeeper looked at him with her sad eyes.
“Yes. For several years now, Prince Anthony has come to town every so often to busty girls, invites them to dinner, then keeps them at the palace as part of his harem. Most are young girls, daughters and nieces of the folk here,” Stated the innkeeper, “What can we do when the king will do nothing to control his son and his wild, lustful whims?”
Cyril stood there looking at the innkeeper with a stern look on his face. He then looked up towards the palace and back at the innkeeper.
“How do I get to the palace?”
A few hours later, Cyril was walking towards the palace. The palace was a large castle with white stones and appeared to be shining as the sun hit it. The towers and outer walls were decorated with the flag of Callister; a silver griffin on a royal blue flag. As Cyril came closer he approached a group of knights clad in white silver armor. When Cyril was just to gates, they stopped him before we went any further.
“Stop,” Said one of the knights, “What is your business here?”
“I am the sorcerer Cyril of Greenfield,” He stated, “I am here seeking an audience with the king.”
The knights eyed Cyril wearily through their helmets, unsure if he was a threat to the king.
“I do not wish any ill will upon the king, I only wish to speak with him,” Cyril stated, feeling the tense and unsure atmosphere.
The knights lowered their swords and halberds and one of them spoke, “Very well we will take you to the king.”
Part of the knights lead Cyril into the palace. The rooms of the palace leading the courtroom was what one would expect; beautiful tapestries, portraits and weapons adorned on the walls and suits of armor standing on display. After walking through a corridor, Cyril and the knights entered the royal courtroom. On the right and left sides of them were nobles in very beautiful and expensive clothing, staring at the arrival of the knights. Looking at the nobles Cyril started to feel very underdressed in his mundane wear. In front of Cyril and the knights were an old man and woman, dressed in royal robes and sitting on two beautiful decorated thrones. This was the king and queen of Callister, King Patrick and Queen Angelina. The king had a dark gray beard and a curly crop of dark gray hair flowing underneath his white gold crown, dressed in royal blue robes matching his kingdoms colors. The queen had a pulled back bun of paling blonde hair, wearing a smaller white gold crown and dressed in robes of a royal violet. The knights and Cyril kneeled before the king and queen.
“Who is this young man whom you have brought to my court?” said King Patrick.
“My lord,” said the knight at the front, “This young sorcerer seeks an audience with you.”
The king looked quizzically at Cyril.
“Step forward,” commanded the king to which Cyril obeyed.
“Your majesty,” Cyril greeted bowing to him, “I am the sorcerer, Cyril Oakmead of Greenfield.”
“Tell me Cyril of Greenfield. Why do you seek an audience with me?”
“Well, your majesty,” Cyril started, “My teacher Mikhaela was invited to your palace by your son, Prince Anthony.”
At the mention of his son, the king sighed and the court began whispering and murmuring to one another. The queen looked to her husband and he looked back at her. Cyril stood looking at the room, waiting for someone to respond. Finally the king spoke.
“Your teacher was invited by my son?”
“Yes, your majesty.”
“Then I think I know just were to find them,” He said rising from his chair, “Follow me.”
Cyril followed the king along with the queen and the knights to the entrance of the east wing of the palace. As they walked down the east wing, Cyril looked at the decor on the walls. Like much of the palace, they were adorned with portraits of the royal family like kings, queens, princesses, and princes. Cyril looked to the king, who looked sad and somewhat ashamed.
“Cyril,” said the king, “How much do you know about the situation of my kingdom?”
“I know that your son has asked many of the young, busty women of Mobas to stay in the palace as a harem but beyond that not much.”
“I see. Then perhaps I should inform you.”
The king stopped and looked towards a portrait of a young child with curly black hair, and a beautiful, black-haired, curvaceous young woman. Cyril looked at the portrait too. However while the king looked at it fondly, Cyril looked at the portrait perplexed. He assumed the child had to be Anthony but he didn’t know who the woman was. It couldn’t be the queen, Cyril thought. The queen was blonde and her bust was rather modest of a B or C cup while the woman in the picture had black hair and was endowed with an F or small G. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He wondered if the king had perhaps remarried after an earlier wife had died.
“Who is the woman in the portrait?” He finally asked.
“That is Elena, Anthony’s nanny when he was a child,” The queen replied.
“You see my wife and I are where often busy with affairs of the kingdom so we had the prince looked after by a nanny,” The king said, “Elena was a kind young woman who cared for Anthony. She played with him and spent time with him when we could not. She almost brought him up almost entirely. Part of me always believed this may have something to do with how this all started.”
The king and company continued down the corridor.
”Elena left us about the time Anthony became ten. Sometime after his twelfth birthday, Anthony asked if he could pick out his own nannies,” said the Queen,“We didn’t think much of it. We thought he probably just wanted a few companions.”
“Unfortunately we found that the nannies that he picked were young, curvy women who hired on to castle staff to satisfy his sexual desires and clean the his wing of the castle erotically,” revealed the king.
As they continued further down the hall, Cyril noticed the walls were no longer adorned with portraits of royal family members who had passed on, but were now adorned with portraits of beautiful and buxom women in swimsuits, lingerie, skimpy outfits, or nothing at all. It was almost like a gallery of centerfolds.
“Gradually, these nannies developed into my son’s current harem. Because of this harem, we fear our son will not choose a bride when it is time for him to ascend the throne,” said the queen.
Shortly after hearing this, Cyril noticed a stacked girl in a maid’s uniform pass by them and come up to a suit of armor. She then pulled down her top, releasing her huge tits, placed some substance on them and began polishing the armor with her breasts. Cyril was slightly surprised and aroused. In the back of the group, a knight saw the maid doing this, grabbed his cod piece and fainted.
“For a long while we have stood by doing nothing, hoping that our son would begin to act responsibly instead of continuing down the road,” said the king, “but we will not let him keep women hostage. We will talk to him directly and have him release your master. I’m quite surprised. I didn’t expect my son to start taking a taste in older women.”
“Well actually your majesty, Mikhaela’s not-”
“I said No!” cried a female voice coming towards them.
“But you look so good in it...of course you’d look even better out of it,” said another voice, a male one followed by a pervy chuckle.
“No, I’m leaving right now!” said the female voice as she came closer.
Running down the hall was another woman with red-orange hair dressed in a maid’s uniform. Not looking where she was going, she collided in Cyril, who noticed a soft and familiar feeling as they crashed and fell to the floor. After recovering from his head hitting the hard floor, Cyril looked up to a pair of familiar emerald eyes staring back at him.
“Cyril?”
“Mikhaela?”
Sitting on top of him was Mikhaela in a maid’s uniform. She looked at him with a surprised expression. As Cyril began to sit up, Mikhaela embraced him. He returned the favor and gave a hug back. A few moments, they let go of one another.
“What happened? Why didn’t you comeback at eleven? and what with that outfit?” He asked.
“Prince Anthony wouldn’t let me leave,” She started, “He insisted that I should remain here as part of his harem. Indulged him and had breakfast but he still wouldn’t let me leave and then dressed me up in this maid’s uniform.”
Cyril took more notice of the maid’s uniform. The top had almost no neckline and started slightly above her nipples and the skirt was cut high enough to show off her underwear if she had bent over. She also wore a pair of long black leggings that stopped have way her thigh. Cyril was more than a little aroused by her outfit and became almost fully erect, which was currently hitting Mikhaela’s rear. Mikhaela let out a surprised squeak when she felt it brush up against her. She looked back and then turned back to Cyril with an annoyed expression.
“While it’s not that I’m not flattered but can we wait to do that after we’ve sorted out the current situation,” She said flatly.
Cyril blushed and scratched the back of his head nervously.
“Right. Sorry about that.”
King Patrick, Queen Angelina, and the knights looked astonished at the sight before them. Cyril and Mikhaela stood up from their collision.
“Cyril...this is your teacher?” The king said amazed.
“Yes, your majesty,” Cyril replied, “This is Mikhaela.”
“Mikhaela wait,” cried a male voice.
Coming down the hall was Prince Anthony, following Mikhaela. He was surprised to see his parents and a few knights in his hall with a man he didn’t recognize.
“Mother, Father, what are you doing here?”
“We came down here to talk to you about your recent addition to your harem,” said the king.
“You mean Mikhaela? I know she’s amazing. I’m in the middle of something with her.”
“No, you’re at the end of something me,” Mikhaela said, “I’m leaving.”
“Why would you want to leave? I’m offering you a home in the castle, whatever clothing you wish, and best of all sex whenever you want with the most eligible prince in the land...Me!”
A long moment of silence passed over the group after Prince Anthony finished the list of accommodations.
“He’s got even more of an ego than I expected and perhaps maybe brain dead too,” Cyril finally said.
“How dare you insult the prince of Callister...who are you?” Prince Anthony said not recognizing him.
“I’m Mikhaela’s apprentice,” Cyril said, “I’m here to take her away from here.”
Anthony pondered this trying to remember his name for a few minutes until he remembered something.
“Ah, yes. You’re Sigil.”
“CYRIL!!!” He said.
“Yes, whatever,” Anthony said trying to brush him off, “Either way, this doesn’t concern you.”
“If Mikhaela’s involved, It concerns me,” Cyril said, grasping Anthony’s arm, “Mikhaela wishes to leave. Let her leave.”
The Prince looked at him annoyed. He batted Cyril’s hand away.
“Take your hand off me, peasant,” He said, “If you’re so desperate for a master, why don’t you go to back down to the village and find some old crone or sorcerer. I’m sure they’d be happy to teach you what they know.”
“No, Mikhaela is my teacher. She is one of the best sorceresses on Ranell. Maybe even on all of Asnorit!” Cyril said, “but she’s also more than that she’s important to me.”
Mikhaela blushed as the compliment. Cyril stared at him irritably and Prince Anthony stared back. The Prince couldn’t fathom why this idiot commoner was getting in his way. Why was he pestering him and why did he insist that Mikhaela didn’t want to stay in the castle with him? He looked over the sorcerer. He didn’t seem like much. He was of a similar age to The Prince but was by the prince’s view rather mundane and ordinary. He also noticed that Mikhaela was also holding on the commoner. What could he possibly offer Mikhaela? He noticed as he looked over Cyril that he had a hard-on, which made the prince finally realize something.
“Oh, I think I understand,” Prince Anthony claimed, “You’re an aficionado for big breasted women as well, Zidgel. Well I can’t blame you for not wanting to let go of Mikhaela. She really does have amazing boobs and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with such humongous boobs. However, I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you four of my bustiest girls in exchange for Mikhaela. How does that sound?”
Cyril let out an exasperated sigh. Not only was this guy an eccentric, perverted egomaniac but he was also a moronic pig. Suddenly Cyril felt a strong raise in magical energy next to him. He looked over to see Mikhaela incredibly pissed and looked she was considering reducing the prince to ashes. Cyril turned back to the prince.
“No deal. Mikhaela’s a person, not an object,” Cyril stated.
“Very well, Then I think there is only one way to settle this,” The prince said, pointing his finger at Cyril, “I challenge you do a duel, Cergil.”
“A duel?”
“Yes, we fight for Mikhaela. If I win, Mikhaela remains here with me as part of my harem. If you win, She can go with you. How does that sound.”
Cyril sighed. It was getting really annoying talking to the prince but Cyril figured there was no other way to get through to him.
“I doubt you’ll be able to keep Mikhaela here but I’ll fight for my master’s freedom. If that’s ok?” He asked turning to Mikhaela. She nodded also understanding there was no other way of getting through to the prince.
An hour or so later, Prince Anthony, Cyril, Mikhaela, The King, The Queen, Anthony’s Harem, and The entire Royal Court stood in the weapons training room. Cyril stood in front of the court in front of the court and Mikhaela at one end of the room and Prince Anthony stood at the other end of the room in front of his harem. The prince turned around to his harem and gave them a smile and a wave causing them to burst into cries, squeals, giggles, and coos. Cyril on the other hand, was swinging the rapier he had been given for the match. He was weighting it and getting a feel for the sword. He had been taught how to defend himself by Murdock, even using weapons but he wasn’t as good with a rapier.
“Are you gonna be alright?” asked Mikhaela, “They say Prince Anthony’s a pretty skilled fencer. He’s even started using his skill for his own pervy ends in a game called..‘strip fencing’.”
Cyril grimaced at the name of the game.
“If I were a betting man, I’d probably put my money on the prince. I’m better with straight or broad swords than rapiers,” Cyril replied, “but I’m fighting for your freedom and I’ll do what I can. Besides, I’ve got a hunch that may help me in this fight.”
Cyril smiled at her and then walked towards the center of the room. Prince Anthony followed suit and the two stopped just five feet apart from each other.
“Okay, this is a duel. What’s the rules?” Cyril asked.
“The rules are simple. The Duel ends when you’re disarmed,” Said Prince Anthony, unsheathing this sword, “and I am the victor.”
Cyril smirked and unsheathed his rapier, “Then technically this duel may not end.”
Prince Anthony shot him a dirty look and thrust his rapier at Cyril. Cyril blocked the thrust and altered it’s direction missing him. Taking the opportunity, he made a quick slash at the Prince who dodged the strike. Prince Anthony then took a slash at Cyril who barely dodged it and brought his own sword down at Prince Anthony. The prince blocked it, and the two blades locked for a few moments until Cyril and Prince Anthony broke from it. The prince retaliated by making a several fast strikes. Cyril blocked some, dodged others and tried take a chance at disarming Prince Anthony but instead the Prince cut into Cyril’s right shoulder, making him fall back on his ass. The prince smirked as Cyril fell back and struck a triumphant pose for his harem and sent a smug look to Mikhaela. While on the ground, Cyril put his free hand to his wound. It stung a little bit and bleed a small amount but nothing major. It wasn’t severe damage or came close to disarming him. This confirmed Cyril’s hunch which gave him some confidence and reassure that he could win if he made the right move. He stood up from the ground.
“Still haven’t given up I see,” said Prince Anthony.
“Not a Chance.” Cyril retorted.
The Prince decided to put an end to this, making a thrust to the back of Cyril’s hand to affectively disarm him. As he made the strike, Cyril blocked Prince Anthony’s strike and made a upward push, knocking Prince Anthony’s rapier out of his hand and clatter on the floor. Everyone was surprised especially the nobles and Prince Anthony’s harem. It was a complete shock that Prince Anthony who had been taught fencing and swordsmanship since childhood was defeated by Cyril, a peasant sorcerer who had only been taught since he was twelve. As the Princes’s gaze changed from his fallen blade back to Cyril, the wizard’s apprentice pointed his sword at Anthony.
“You’re disarmed. You’ve lost,” Cyril said.
The Prince was still in shock.
“How?” He asked, “How did you defeat me?”
“Not entirely sure,” Cyril sheathed the rapier, “Could be you’re rusty, could be I’m lucky, or it might be you were holding back.”
“Holding Back? Why would I hold back when the bustiest woman I’ve ever seen is an inch away from being part of my harem?”
“Maybe it was subconscious,” Cyril answered, “You’re so used to holding back when you’re fighting women in your ‘strip fencing’ matches, You were still holding back when you didn’t mean to.”
The Prince looked incredulously at Cyril.
“But what do I know? Point is the match is over and I beat you,” Cyril reminded him, “Deal’s a deal right? You are gonna let Mikhaela go free?”
Prince Anthony didn’t want to answer the question but he didn’t need to. His father answered for him.
“That is correct,” answered the king, who was coming up behind Cyril along with Mikhaela.
Prince Anthony looked at his father in surprise, “Father!”
“You have beaten my son, fair and square, and so Miss Mikhaela can go freely and go on her journey.”
Cyril turned to Mikhaela and smiled. She smiled back at him.
“To apologize for my son’s behavior, why don’t you two spend the night in the palace,” suggested the king, “We shall have a feast, you two may sleep in a guest room of the castle and leave the next morning. How does that sound?”
Cyril looked to Mikhaela and she looked at him.
“I suppose one more night in Mobas wouldn’t kill us,” said Mikhaela.
“Splendid,” Rejoiced the king, “I will send someone to pick up any luggage you have at your inn.”
That evening, Cyril and Mikhaela were treated to a feast with the royal court. Cyril and Mikhaela were both given fine royal attire for the feast. Everyone enjoyed themselves, eating, chatting and much more. Prince Anthony did not attend. Stating that he had other business to attend to. No one really knew what but most believed he was still upset about his defeat and was probably making himself feel better, having an orgy with his harem. By the time that the feast was over, All attendants were stuffed and went back to their castles and mansions. Cyril and Mikhaela went back to a shared guest room they had been given by the king in the west wing. Getting back to the room, Cyril collapsed on the bed and undid his jacket and shirt that had been specifically made for the feast.
“Whoo,” He sighed, “That was pretty nice.”
“It was much more lively that the dinner I had with Anthony,” Mikhaela said, sitting down at a couch across from the bed and by the window.
“Not surprising. The entire royal court was there,” said Cyril, “It was probably just you and the Prince last night?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Mikhaela replied, looking out the window at the night sky.
Cyril sat up and looked at her. The moon light illuminating her as it came through the window, making her shine. He was happy she was with him again. He was so worried he would never see her again.
“Thank you, Cyril,” She said.
He looked at her surprised.
“Thank you for coming to get me and fighting for my freedom,” She elaborated.
“Aw, it was nothing,” He said blushing a little.
“No, it wasn’t nothing,” She said, looking at him seriously and meaningful.
Cyril stared at her emerald eyes and finally said.
“You’ve done the same for me,” Cyril said.
Mikhaela’s expression changed from a serious yet sweet expression to sexy and mischievous as she got up and came up to Cyril.
“In fact, I think I should give you a reward,” She said.
Cyril looked at her confused, “A reward? Like what?”
Mikhaela knocked him into the bed, fell on top of him, and gave him a sly look.
“What do you think?” Mikhaela said before passionately giving him a deep kiss.
Cyril was a teensy bit surprised but then repaid her in kind. After the long kiss, Mikhaela gave Cyril his ‘reward’ and they indulged into a pretty lively night.
The next morning, they stood in front of the king and queen, dressed, packed, and prepared to return to their journey.
“I bid you both a very fond farewell and hope you have a safe journey,” said the king, “Know though, that if you find yourselves in Mobas once again, you are welcome to stay here at the palace.”
Cyril and Mikhaela both bowed to the king and queen.
“Thank you, your majesty,” They said in unison.
“We must be going then,” said Mikhaela.
“Not just yet.”
Cyril and Mikhaela looked surprised and turned their heads to see Prince Anthony standing behind them. He was dressed in a white long sleeve shirt, a crimson vest, pants that matched, a pair of light brown boots, and a forest green cloak. His belt also had a rapier holstered to it.
“Hello, Prince Anthony,” greeted Mikhaela, “What are you doing here? Come to see us off?”
However as Cyril and Her looked down by Anthony’s feet and noticed a large bag sitting there, They gained a sinking feeling.
“Actually, I was planning on going with you,” said Prince Anthony pompously.
“WHAT?!?!?!” They said in surprise.
“I decided last night that it was time for a change. Thought I’d travel, see the world, explore new places...,” he said, sounding almost sincere and profound like he’d turned over a new leaf but then a smile crept across his face, “and of course, meet and screw as many huge breasted women out there.”
The prince let out some perverted giggles and made some groping gestures, envisioning numerous beautiful women of all races, physiques, and cup sizes. Both Cyril and Mikhaela were shocked at this sudden decision of the prince’s. Neither of them wanted the prince to accompany them.
“B-but what about your harem here at the palace?” asked Mikhaela.
“I told the girls to go back to Mobas and that when I returned home, I would send for them,” He answered.
“I can’t believe this,” said Mikhaela, sounding somewhat defeated.
Cyril turned to the king, “Your majesty, you don’t want your son and heir to go, do you?”
“I’m fond of him taking the trip. In fact, I gave him permission to go,” answered the king.
“WHAT? You can’t be serious?” He said.
The King then gestured for Cyril to come close to him. Cyril did as directed.
“Please take him with you Cyril,” The king pleaded whispering.
“He’s your son. Not to mention the heir to the throne. Do you really want your child galavanting around Asnorit?” Cyril whispered back.
“I was thinking this would be best for him. Go abroad, learn some new things, meet some people and hopefully he would return home a little matured and perhaps toned down a bit from his big breast fixation to perhaps choose a suitable bride and ascend the throne.”
Cyril felt it wasn’t going end up like that. He had a feeling the prince would actually be worse instead of better after traveling around but the king was a hard man to say no to.
“Please Cyril,” whispered the king, “Take my son as your traveling companion and watch over him for me.”
Cyril sighed, “Very well your majesty.”
“Thank you, my boy.”
“AAHHH!”
The two of them turned around to see Anthony fondling Mikhaela happily. Mikhaela surprised and angered.
“Perhaps by the time this journey is over, my dear,” Anthony started, “You’ll have gotten over Cyril and we return to Mobas together.”
Mikhaela grabbed the prince’s right hand pulled it off her breast and said angrily, “DREAM ON, PRINCE PERV!”
Following this, Mikhaela produced a lighting spell and shocked Anthony with several hundred volts. Prince Anthony’s body shook and sputtered as the lighting surged through every fiber in his body. His hair stood on end. After the spell finished, Prince Anthony was smoking, his hair stood straight on his head and little sparks of static fired off. Mikhaela let go of Anthony who fell to the floor.
Cyril turned to the king and said, “You might want to consider finding another heir because I’m not sure Anthony will be making it back.”
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