A Royal Rebellion (11 page)

Percy gasped in sympathy, and Mason sent the small man a wink and a smile before heading back towards the station. “Where are you going?” Edward asked, motioning back over his shoulder. “We need to get out of here, Mace.”

“You can head for the border, brother, and I’ll wish you luck. But fifteen-hundred miles of cities and forests and towns full of avid royal watchers is between you and freedom. Be realistic. Getting there might happen, but the traveling isn’t wise, not so encumbered.” Mason tipped his head at Percy’s belly, and Edward narrowed his eyes.

Before Edward could lay into Mason, Abe stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Mason and I can protect Percy better than an entire army of Elysian soldiers,” Abe vowed, and Edward sent him a searching glace, jaw tight. Mason continued walking, leaving him to convince his brother. “He knew we would be here. Perhaps not exactly, but he came this direction because getting to Elysian may be the best chance for Percy, but it isn’t the most likely of plans to succeed. We’ll all be safe if King Henry is stopped, and running away won’t be necessary.”

“And he wants us to go where, exactly?” Edward asked, frustrated.

Mason roared back in their direction, stopping the bike a few feet away. “Lord Estiary has been the most gracious host,” Mason said over the rumble of the bike’s engine, “And I warned him his involvement might mean a death sentence instead of banishment, but the crazy old badger just laughed and reached for another glass of wine. I’ll see you at his estate. Want a ride, little mouse?”

Percy squeaked in alarm, eyes wide as he stared at the bike. Mason laughed when Edward grabbed Percy’s arm and stood in front of him. Abe waved Mason off, not wanting the brothers to start digging at each other so soon. “I’ll get them there, Mace. Go, I’ll see you soon.”

Mason revved the engine, the bike taking off in a flurry of sprayed dirt and leaves. Abe watched as the love of his life disappeared into the forest, the roar fading as Mason got further and further away. One day soon they would be able to just…stop, and be, and exist only in each other.

If they lived, that is.

Lunatic kings and misplaced heirs needed to be settled first, though, before love could find time to flourish.

“And if Estiary makes a move for Percy?” Edward hissed, dark eyes full of violent promise at the possibility.

“Then we can be on the run for killing a noble, too,” Abe assured the prince, walking back towards where they hid the SUV in the woods.

Chapter Seven

Percy

Finding his courage, Percy held Edward’s hand, chin up, shoulders back. He walked next to his lover, and not behind him, no matter how badly he wanted to hide in his shadow. Mason stood at the top of the stone steps of the great manor hall, the wind whipping his dark locks in a rather heroic manner. The dark clothes he wore merely completed the look, and one glance at Reynard’s countenance told Percy that the captain was deeply affected.

Seeing Reynard and Mason kissing had been one of the most beautiful and surprising things of his short and sheltered life. Just the amount of love and passion in how they touched each other made Percy want to hug them both and sigh over them at the same time. He was rather emotional about it, and he glared down at his baby bump just as they escaped the wind and entered Lord Estiary’s home.

Mason fell back to Reynard’s side, and Percy smiled, thinking the two tall, powerful men were stunning side by side. Edward squeezed his hand, and Percy sent him a guilty glance and a shrug at his questioning look. Edward flicked his eyes at his brother and guard, and his brows twitched and his lush lips quirked in a smile. Edward put his arm around his shoulder and hugged him, following Reynard and Mason as they walked down an impressive entrance hall.

It was at least three stories tall, with twin staircases rising from either side. A balcony joined them over the main hall that disappeared into the depths of the mansion. The building was huge with rich rugs and tapestries on the walls in vibrant hues and scenes. Everywhere Percy looked were gold accents, and instead of the red of the Cassian décor, there were deep, royal blues, twilight hues and ocean shades. Percy was awed, and the effect was that of cool, calm welcome, despite the grandeur.

Percy was slightly confused. They had yet to see any servants. Mason had opened the front door on his own, and they entered alone. There was no waiting servant to greet and guide them to their host.

The four of them walked deeper into the house, the thick stones walls and the hues of blue making it feel colder in the shadows. Bright lights and the sound of music could be heard ahead, and Percy picked out the tinkle of high pitched giggles and deep masculine laughter.

Edward’s arm went tight around his shoulders, and Reynard dropped back to walk on Percy’s unprotected side. Mason shot them a quick glance, sarcasm having an expression it would be in the way Mason shook his head at them. They stopped outside the open door, golden light spilling over them.

Percy peeked around Mason’s wide shoulders, eyes going wide at the sight in front of him.

It was a large room, made for comfort, couches and chaises and lounges littering the expanse. Wide loveseats and deep piles of pillows completed what Percy would compare to a harem from his fantasy books, and when he saw the nearly naked and beautiful forms lounging about, he figured it was pretty accurate.

“Dammit, Mason! I didn’t want him in this environment!” Edward hissed at his brother, and Percy found himself behind Edward, view obstructed.

“Eddie, Percy grew up in this environment. We’re the ones out of place, not him,” Mason said casually, and Percy looked around Edward to see Mason shaking his head. “There’s nothing to be scared of, Eddie. Your precious virtue is safe from some fluff-brained pleasure slaves and a handful of retired breeders. Oh, and an aging harem master, but he’s too drunk to bite hard.”

“Mason!” Called out an accented and slightly slurred man from inside the room, and the giggling cut off. “My darling boy, did you find your lost love? Ah, I see you did! And is that Farmer Eddie I see? Tell the young prude to stop being so jealous of his lovely dove, I have plenty of my own. Come in, gentlemen, and have a drink!”

“Prude? Did he call me a prude?” Edward asked angrily, and Mason laughed. “Farmer Eddie?”

“Coming, Lucius,” Mason called out, and he walked inside the room.

Percy waited for Edward to make up his mind. Reynard stopped halfway between Mason and Edward, as if torn, waiting as well for Edward to make a decision.

“Saint’s Blood…..” Edward grumbled, but he took Percy’s hand again and walked forward. “Percy, stay at my side at all times, understood?”

“Yes, Edward,” Percy promised, following.

There were at least twenty people in the room, with maybe enough clothes between them all to cover a normal sized man. Percy was accustomed to nudity, in himself and others, and the naked pleasure slaves and the rare breeder he could see didn’t bother him at all. The slaves were easy to tell apart from the breeders, at least for Percy. The slaves, all females, were lithe and slim with an elfin cast to their features, with high, smallish breasts and narrow waists. The breeders, also female, had wider hips and more flesh on their waists, though they were by no means overweight. The breeders also bore marks of their purpose, faint silver stretch marks on stomach and waist, and breasts that were fuller and not quite as high. The pleasure slaves were sterile, and their attributes were decorative, and unchanging until advanced in years. Breeders aged, albeit slower, but they still showed themselves to be past the first blush of youth. Percy only ever saw breeders past the age of thirty when they were retired back to Heritage and taken to the breeding pools to continue the in house stock lines, so to see the handful of females free to move about and not pregnant was odd for him.

Edward led him after Reynard and Mason, who were taking seats near the fireplace, where an exceptionally handsome older man was holding a clothing optional version of Court.

He was clothed, but the pretty slave on his lap was not. She was tiny, and looked no older than Percy, but she was designed to look that way, and could be ten years older. Wild, long and bouncy curls of vibrant red hair spilled over her shoulders, and deep blue eyes, almond shaped and fringed by thick black lashes gave her an angelic air, but her bare, perky breasts and legs open invitingly dispelled quickly any hints at innocence.

Percy took in their host, his silver hair thick and swept back from his forehead, with a slight widow’s peak and dark eyebrows over gray eyes gave him a very distinguished appearance. He was wearing black trousers and a deep blue waistcoat, a white shirt underneath open at his throat. He was older, perhaps in his fifties, but he was lean and his arms, the sleeves rolled back, were muscled and toned. Rings glittered on his fingers, and Percy politely looked away from the hand that was buried between the red-haired slave’s legs, making her pant eagerly as he worked a finger in and out of her wet pussy.

Edward sat in a high backed chair, and Percy went to curl up on the cushion on the floor at his feet, but Edward pulled him to his lap instead. Percy curled up, tucking his feet under him, and he stared back at the older lord, meeting his inquisitive gaze.

“Greetings, assorted princes and guard,” Lord Estiary said with a wave of his free hand, his other still moving with purpose between the slave girl’s legs. “And a most hearty welcome to the beautiful Perseus, royal consort.”

Estiary picked up a crystal and blue-gem goblet from a tiny side table beside his throne-like chair, sipping the deep red liquid from it, gray eyes roving over Percy where he sat in Edward’s lap. Lord Lucius moved his fingers in a smooth glide over the girl’s clitoris, and she came with a mangled scream, convulsing on his lap, legs closing on his hand, her breasts quivering as she struggled to breathe past her orgasm. Lord Lucius just sipped his wine and slowly withdrew his hand, making the exhausted girl spasm one more time before she sleepily rolled off his lap. She grabbed a folded cloth napkin from the small table, and handed it to her master who put down his goblet and cleaned his hand. She took the napkin and walked off, all without looking at any of them where they sat nearby.

“Lord Lucius,” Edward began, but the older man waved a hand and sat up straighter, gesturing to Percy.

“He’s Cartwright’s design, isn’t he? I recognize the eyes, Cartwright kept him in his study like a puppy when he was knee-high. About a decade ago, so the age seems right.” Lord Lucius smiled at Percy, thin lips curved ever so slightly, and Percy looked away, refusing to show the aging harem master any emotion. “Cartwright named him Perseus, after a hero from a faraway foreign land. As I recall, it was the boy’s favorite tale, and Cartwright read it to him often.”

He didn’t remember Lord Lucius Estiary, but it was possible they’d ‘met’. Cartwright, Percy’s designer and creator, had indeed kept Percy in his study when he was little, letting him read and play by the fireplace. As a child Percy was allowed a simple cotton shift and sandals, and Cartwright taught him to read in between client meetings. Cartwright never let Percy be alone with clients, and kept them all away from him, prohibiting contact. His late master was dead, dying a month before Edward visited Heritage and bought him.

“Percy is off limits, in all ways,” Edward said directly to Lord Lucius, and Percy looked down at the floor, tensing. “You’ll not speak to him or about him, Lord Lucius.”

“Bold words for a disgraced prince,” Lord Lucius said, sipping his wine. “And what a way to treat the breeder you collared for love. I know full well Cartwright didn’t inhibit his mental development like he did with his regular stock. Young Perseus understands every word I say, and has the brains to speak his own back to me.”

Percy froze, not daring to look up, either at Edward or at Lord Lucius.

“Percy is not up for discussion,” Edward growled, all but vibrating under Percy in the chair, anger in every tense line. “He has nothing to do with why we are here.”

“Don’t think me a fool or a drunkard, your highness!” Lord Lucius all but shouted, standing swiftly, towering over them. Reynard stood just as fast, coming to stand at Edward’s shoulder. “Your mate and the babe he carries is what this is all about. Everything depends on that babe he carries, of oh-so-pure Cassian decent. King Henry has let greed and fear cloud his mind, and when he realizes very soon what he has let slip through his fingers, there is no place on the planet you’ll be safe. And once Mason finishes telling his tale, the whole of the country will be demanding your child.”

“What the hell is going here?!” Edward demanded, and he stood. Percy found himself passed to Reynard like a parcel, and the guard held him protectively in his arms, backing away as Edward got right up in the noble’s face. “You’ll explain yourself, and now. I don’t mind adding assault to the charges of treason I’m certain my father has placed on me. Speak, clearly, and now.”

Mason sighed in his chair, the only one of them relaxed and not standing. “Eddie, shut the hell up and sit down. I’ll start talking. And for Saint’s sake, Luke, stop goading my baby brother. He is unreasonably protective of the little mouse. He just might do it, and I’m of a mind to watch.”

Edward kept glaring at the nobleman, and Lord Lucius cracked out a burst of laughter before calmly backing away and sitting. “Very well then, Prince Mason. You have the floor. I delight in seeing what our youngest blood prince thinks after we have full disclosure of the sordid facts.”