"Mm..."
A soft moan was heard from the king's chamber. It wasn't so dark outside but the room now held shadows. It could be from the lives the king has taken or the whore that rocked her hips against his manhood.
"Your Majesty. You have a visitor." The royal servant outside the door announced.
The activities inside the room didn't seem to stop even with the voice of reason.
"Ahhmmm..." the moan increased with a gasp that followed.
The King moved up, his knees sinking into the soft textures of the oversize bed. He pulled the young woman by her ankle, turned her skillfully to lay on her side then placed her leg on his shoulder.
Without warning, he thrusted deep inside of her with a low grunt. The woman in service, writhed, moaned and cried in pleasure. Reaching to touch the man that sent her to oblivion but all she received was a cold stare.
"Apologies, your majesty." The girl murmured. Keeping her hands to herself.
He didn't pay her mind. The young man continued moving his hips, his eyes moving away from the woman and now staring at the painting on his wall.
It was an oddly faded out painting that shouldn't have a place in the king's bedroom. If for anything, it was minimalist compared to the designs that weighed every corner of the walls.
The bed itself- a grand four-poster style with dark carved wood and heavy cream drapes that gave a stage to whatever was happening there at the moment.
Silk dresses and jewelries laid tousled on the ground in scattered arrangements.
The room features was high, arched windows framed by heavy cream curtains that fall to the floor in elegant folds. While the walls and ceilings are adorned with baroque moldings — cherubs, vines, and gold embellishments.
So, every part of the room screamed debauched luxury with taste for passion in the burgundy bedsheets. Everything except the painting.
"Mm..." The King groaned, his hips moving even faster. He turned the woman around to lay on her face then pushed her hips back up to meet with his shaft. Then he continued, with no emotions for what he was doing.
His eyes remained on the painting.
An ordinary looking picture hung on the wall where the king's bed was.
At first glance it was a woman dancing gracefully and alone in the forest but taking a closer look because of the dull faint brushes of black and white. The woman had an arrow behind her, a smile on her face and a single red rose which was the only color in the frame.
Then an almost dismissive shadow of a scythe. The woman was like a lonely dying swan.
"Your Majesty...your father is here."
He didn't stop, not thrusting or staring. The King was lost in the world inside the painting.
"Uh..." the woman gasped. She had climaxed more than she could count since the king started using her. And the exhaustion was finally creeping into her bones.
It was her tired shift on the bed that brought the king's attention. Slowly taking himself out of her. He moved her leg to the side.
"Forgive me, your majesty...Please continue..." The young woman though shivering, clasped her hands together, begging to be taken.
It was a privilege to be among the few selected to serve the king. And who knows when the service would please him enough to make a mistress out of a whore or even better a concubine. So with the thought every courtesan dreamed to match the king's strength on bed.
"Take your things and leave," Neron grabbed a long red robe, draping it over his shoulder he crashed on the chaise longue. Taking the lit pot that was on a short stool, he smoked it tiredly.
The two women who had served him quickly gathered their things quietly, leaving the room. They knew it was no use trying to beg the king. His words were ultimate. Regardless of what it was.
The royal servant, who had announced earlier, cleared his throat when he saw the women rush out of the room. He tried again, "Your maje-"
"Bring in another whore." Neron dragged the pot, when he blew the smoke he watched it trail slowly, tilting to the window.
The servant closed his eyes and sighed, "B-but...your majesty...your father." The man tired of his work tried to show the king reason. His father had been waiting for him to be finished and when he was done, he was requesting another.
"Make them two," Neron remarked casually, choosing to ignore the man's anxiety.
"I wish to see the king." A stronger voice commanded.
The servant rubbed his neck, "Your majesty, the Head Courtesan is here." he announced, knowing the king will also ignore as he had done his father. Only to request for-
"Let her in."
The servant has seen things work differently while serving this king but not once had he heard, a head of whores granted entrance before the former king.
"I'll go in myself." The head courtesan said, turning to king's father. "You can come in with me, Your Majesty."
Pride spoke before reason. The man shook his head. "I'm sure my son needs rest after fighting battles for nine days away from his home." He patted the woman's back. "Give him all the care he needs."
"I will, Your Majesty." The head courtesan bowed deeply, staring down at her shoes. When the man was far gone, she spat. "Dirty swine." before entering the king's chamber.
The woman didn't say a word as she entered the room. She walked deeper into the space, getting rid of the silk jacket that barely covered her dress. She picked up the clothes that were on the floor, gathered them in a basket.
Pushing the heavy curtains to the side, she opened the window to let fresh air and natural light in. Then she walked back to the king's bed and sat on the bed staring at the painting.
"I asked for two of your girls." Neron glanced up to the ceiling, puffing a smoke before he dropped the pot.
The woman turned to look at the young king, she studied his face before looking away. "I heard you have refused to see any physician."
"I don't feel pain...all I need is for those whore to-"
"Nero!" The woman stomped her feet on the ground, her eyes blazing with anger.
The young man sighed, throwing his head back on the soft couch. "I mean your doves."
"You won't be having any of my girls." The woman soldified, with a stern voice. "I heard four of them has left your chamber ever since you returned and not an audience have you granted to your father....or mother."
Neron opened his eyes but didn't look up. "My father...." he smirked. "Would you rather I talk to that....what was the word? Dirty swine?"
"He is still your father." The woman remarked, standing up from the bed, "And you are king...." she carried the basket that had the dirty clothes.
Neron crossed his legs, now sitting in a sprawled manner on the couch. "I don't understand you, Lady Feyrne," he said, sucking his teeth. "One minute you scold me to act right, and the next minute you want me to pretend to be a decorous king."
"Could it be the curse of one who grew up with whores?" he shook his head, now twirling the pot he had finished smoking.
The woman held the basket to her chest, staring at the young man intently. Barely any emotion crossed her eyes. "There will be a party to celebrate your victory."
"I don't need one."
The woman ignored him. "And you will attend." She walked to the door but stopped halfway. "And stop bringing home women of the night! I heard that a girl with an unknown affliction was among them."
"Are you sure you want me to stop?" Neron tossed the pot to the side, he gave the woman a once-over then grinned. "Your house is the largest brothel in the kingdom."
The woman identified as Lady Feyrne, sucked in a calming down breath. "Fine...but make sure they are healthy enough to do the work."
Neron twitched his lips. "And about my request?"
"Leave you room, take a stroll outside the palace. Get some air and prepare to meet your officials and council members. Do this....and I will reconsider sending my best girls." The head courtesan bowed before using the door.
Neron palmed his face coincidentally same time the door was closed shut. "Should I kill her and get another head courtesan who wouldn't bother me?" he lazily moved his head to the side now staring at the painting on his wall.
"Worthless life." he said with a tired sigh. "Weary is the head that holds the crown."