The old chapel had been abandoned for years, ever since the new grand temple was built in the heart of Valorheim. Now it served as a forgotten relic, dusty and silent—perfect for secret meetings.
Ethan arrived early, lighting candles and arranging the space. He'd brought wine, cushions, and ensured complete privacy. Tonight would be delicate. Tonight, he would begin weaving his separate conquests into something larger.
Dame Celine arrived first, as instructed. She wore a hooded cloak, her face flushed with anticipation and nervousness.
"Ethan? I came as you asked, but why here? Why not somewhere more private?"
He kissed her, slow and deep, feeling her melt against him. "Because tonight is special. Tonight, I want to show you something new."
"What do you mean?"
Before he could answer, footsteps echoed outside. Celine tensed, panic flashing across her face. "Someone's coming! We need to hide—"
"Relax." Ethan kept his arm around her waist. "She's supposed to be here."
"She? Who—"
The door opened, and Queen Isadora stepped inside, also cloaked. She froze when she saw Celine.
"What is this?" Isadora's voice was sharp with shock and suspicion. "Ethan, you said this would be private—"
"It is private," he assured her calmly. "Just the three of us."
Celine's eyes went wide with realization. "Your Majesty? You and Ethan...?"
Isadora's face flushed crimson. "I... this isn't... Dame Celine?"
The two women stared at each other, processing the implications. Ethan watched them carefully, ready to step in if either bolted.
"You've both been coming to me separately," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Both seeking what you couldn't find elsewhere. Both trusting me with your secrets, your desires, your pleasure."
"I can't believe this," Isadora breathed. "You've been... with both of us?"
"I have. And I've been honest with both of you about who I am and what I offer." He moved between them, addressing each in turn. "Celine, did I ever promise you exclusivity?"
She shook her head slowly. "No. You said... you said you could give me what I needed. And you have."
"And you, Isadora. Did I ever lie to you about my intentions?"
The queen's jaw tightened. "You said I belonged to you."
"And you do. Just as Celine does. Just as others will." He let that sink in. "I'm building something here. A network of women who choose to be with me, who find in me what they can't find anywhere else. But I won't force anyone to stay. Either of you can leave right now. No consequences. No hard feelings."
Silence stretched between them. Celine looked at Isadora. Isadora looked at Celine. Both looked at Ethan.
Finally, Celine spoke. "I don't want to leave. What we have... what you've given me... I haven't felt alive like this in years."
"Nor I," Isadora admitted quietly. "My husband barely notices I exist. But you... you make me feel desired. Powerful. Real."
"Then stay." Ethan extended a hand to each of them. "Both of you. Let me show you something even better than what we've shared alone."
Celine bit her lip. "You mean... together?"
"Only if you both want to. This is about pleasure, about freedom from the roles that trap you. But it only works if everyone consents."
Isadora laughed, slightly hysterical. "This is madness. I'm the queen. She's a married noblewoman. We shouldn't even be here, let alone..."
"Let alone what?" Ethan challenged gently. "Let alone admit that you're curious? That part of you wants to try? That you're tired of always doing what you 'should' do?"
The queen and the lady exchanged another long look. Some silent communication passed between them—perhaps recognition of shared circumstance, shared frustration, shared hunger.
"I've never..." Celine started.
"Neither have I," Isadora finished.
"Then let's discover it together." Ethan drew them both closer. "No pressure. No expectations. Just pleasure and choice."
What followed was hesitant at first—nervous touches, uncertain kisses, both women waiting for Ethan to guide them. But as he showed them how to touch each other, how to find pleasure in new configurations, their inhibitions began to fall away.
Celine's initial shock at kissing another woman transformed into fascination. Isadora's royal composure crumbled as she discovered the softness of feminine touches combined with Ethan's harder, more dominant presence.
"This is..." Celine gasped as Ethan moved inside her while Isadora kissed her breasts. "God, this is incredible."
"You're both incredible," Ethan growled, one hand tangled in the queen's hair. "Look at you. Two beautiful, powerful women taking what you want instead of settling for what you're given."
Isadora pulled back from Celine's breast, her eyes dark with arousal. "I want more. Show me more."
He did.
By the time they finished, all three were tangled together on the cushions, sweaty and satisfied. Celine lay with her head on Isadora's shoulder, while Ethan traced patterns on both their skin.
"I can't believe we just did that," Celine murmured, but she was smiling.
"I can't believe how much I enjoyed it," Isadora admitted. "When you kissed me, Celine, I thought I'd be disgusted, but..."
"But it felt good," Celine finished. "It felt right."
"Because it was your choice," Ethan reminded them. "Everything we do together is because you choose it."
Isadora propped herself up on one elbow, studying him. "You're building a harem, aren't you? Like the sultans in the southern kingdoms."
"I'm building a sanctuary," he corrected. "A place where women trapped by duty and obligation can be themselves. Can explore their desires without shame or consequences."
"And what do you get out of it?" Celine asked, though not accusingly.
"Pleasure, certainly. But also loyalty. Trust. Information." He met both their gazes steadily. "I won't pretend to be selfless. I benefit from this arrangement. But so do you. That's what makes it work."
Isadora laughed softly. "You're honest about being dishonest. I appreciate that."
"I'm honest about my intentions. There's a difference." Ethan sat up, reaching for the wine. "Let me be clear with both of you. I will seduce other women. I will bring them into this... arrangement. Some of you may know each other. Some may not. But I will never lie to you about it."
"Will they all be like this?" Celine gestured to their tangled bodies. "Together?"
"That depends on them. And on you. Some women will only want me alone. Others might enjoy what we just shared. It's always their choice."
Isadora accepted a cup of wine, her mind clearly working through the implications. "This could be dangerous. If anyone found out—"
"They won't. We're all very motivated to keep these secrets." Ethan's smile was sharp. "After all, you have as much to lose as I do. More, actually."
"Are you threatening us?" The queen's voice went cold.
"No. I'm acknowledging reality. We're bound together by mutual benefit and mutual risk. That makes us allies, not enemies."
Celine nodded slowly. "He's right. If his secret comes out, so do ours. We protect him by protecting ourselves."
"Exactly." Ethan refilled their cups. "So. Do you both want to continue? Knowing what this is, what it might become?"
The two women looked at each other again. This time, their expressions held understanding, even a hint of camaraderie.
"I'm in," Celine said firmly. "On one condition."
"Name it."
"Sometimes, I still want you alone. Just us."
"Done. Isadora?"
The queen took a long drink of wine, then smiled—a real smile, not her public court smile. "I'm in. Though I reserve the right to change my mind if this becomes more complicated than pleasurable."
"Fair enough." Ethan raised his cup. "To new arrangements."
"To freedom," Isadora countered.
"To pleasure," Celine added.
They drank.
Later, after both women had left separately to avoid suspicion, Ethan sat alone in the chapel, planning his next moves.
He'd successfully brought two of his conquests together, creating the foundation of his network. They'd accepted the arrangement, understood their roles, and even found pleasure in it beyond just him.
But he couldn't rest on this success. The palace held more opportunities, more women trapped in gilded cages.
Princess Eléonore would need more time before introducing her to the others—she was still new to this, still exploring her own desires. But there were others.
Lady Helena, the young widow whose husband had died in the northern campaigns. She'd been in mourning for months, denied physical comfort by propriety.
Priestess Seraphina, who served in the temple and preached chastity while her eyes followed every handsome man who passed. He'd seen her frustration, heard the whispered confessions of her own temptations.
And beyond the palace walls, in the city itself, were merchants' wives, guild mistresses, even the notorious Madame Scarlett who ran the finest pleasure house in Valorheim.
So many possibilities.
So much potential.
But he would be patient. Careful. Each seduction would be tailored to the woman, each approach designed to give her what she truly needed while binding her to him.
Not through force or fear, but through pleasure and choice.
That was the key. Women who chose to be with him, who actively wanted this arrangement, would be far more loyal and useful than those who were coerced.
Ethan stood, extinguishing the candles one by one.
Three women secured. Dozens more to claim.
And the best part? They would come to him willingly, just as Celine and Isadora had. Just as Eléonore had.
Because he offered them something no one else would: the freedom to want, to choose, to take pleasure without apology.
In a world that tried to control women's desires, Ethan gave them permission to indulge.
And for that, they would give him everything.
The next morning, Ethan served breakfast to King Aldric as usual. The old king complained about his aching joints and the incompetence of his advisors, completely oblivious to the fact that his servant had spent the night fucking his wife alongside a noblewoman from his own court.
"You're quiet today, Ethan," Aldric observed. "Something on your mind?"
"Just thinking about how to serve you better, Your Majesty."
The king nodded approvingly. "Good man. I don't know what I'd do without your loyalty."
"Nor I without your trust, sire."
If only the old fool knew.
But he never would.
None of them would.
And that was exactly how Ethan liked it.
End of Chapter 4
Next: Chapter 5 - The Widow's Longing