A new sorcerer is introduced to the court of the beloved King Godrick. He finds love and acceptance in his court, but a plight begins to take hold as the king seems begins acting strangely. Will the sorcerer be able to save his king?
I’d been the royal arcane advisor for over ten years when the events of this tale took place. It was a coveted position that I was only in a position to inherit by advantageous adoption by a noble house and rigorous training under the previous advisor, a wizard by self-proclaimed title though I favored a more innate, sorcerous-like approach to magic that afforded me nothing but disdain from the old codger. I’m a naturally charismatic fellow, however, so I was in a position to endear myself to the king even as the wizard demanded that a more suitable heir be found for his work. The old man was denied, and last I heard a dragon devoured him during an ill-conceived research expedition, though such hateful rumors often swirl around subjects of public contempt. Ever since I’d been complimented by royalty and members of the court for my natural ability to discern the correct course of action in magical affairs, and I enjoyed the warm glow of privilege that came with my popularity.
It is also important to note that, in my career lasting over a decade, I had not always been unexcessive in my enjoyment of the generous opportunities being a royal advisor afforded me. I began my post in my early twenties, yet I’d rigorously trained for the position since I was a young child, maintaining a spare lifestyle of the most brutal caliber in the interest of spurring myself towards greatness. Thus, with my early life goal completed and faced with luxuries I could only previously imagine, I buried myself in hedonism. I furnished my chambers in the finest amenities and clothed myself in ostentatious stylings that I’m now embarrassed to reflect on. The court responded with according awe of my unique fashion, yet I had not anticipated the irreparable swath this created between me and the rest of the nobles. They all regarded me as strange and otherworldly, a stigma of my position solidified by my bold mannerisms in those early days. What the old wizard had done, through his morose nature and blatant irreverence towards the court, I’d achieved by my desperate attempts to become one of them. I soon saw myself isolated by my own folly, called upon only by the king and a few other nobles who treated speaking with me as secretively as one might arrange a clandestine meeting with a courtesan.
Though I try not to bemoan the immense privilege I’ve strived to ascertain for all of my life, it was hard not to feel lonely. My social life was hard not to feel lonely. My social life was a pale simulacrum of the other nobles, and I felt I had nowhere to turn. That is why, to this day, I don’t know how coincidental it was that the king assigned me Bryce around that time, my new bodyguard. The king claimed that I could use the assistance and protection of someone more experienced with courtly matters. I was honored, certainly, but I also perceived the gesture as extremely heavy-handed. Graciously, I drew attention to never having heard of any previous arcane advisor being assigned a guard, but the king merely shone his warm smile that radiated gracious diplomacy, suggested that I might not have been selected to maintain the stringent traditions of my role in the court. Though he didn’t say it aloud, his brilliant eyes burned with a strategic passion that screamed, “young blood”. At a loss for words, I simply thanked the king, was dismissed, and Bryce followed.
Bryce, whom I soon learned was “Sir Bryce Hiltborne the Third of the Gold Blade” despite his balking at such a lengthy title, was a man only five years my senior. He was a tall, rugged individual that was never seen without his indecorous, standard issue sword of the guard. Clad in simple leathers, he was indistinguishable from one of the usual rank and file, doing little to purposefully distinguish himself, yet even in those first days of his assignment, I found my eyes lingering on his visage. The well-kept shadow clinging to his robust jawline, always clinched in a serious manner, and the massive man’s musculature were appealing to regard in a way that I hadn’t experienced before. In my time with Brycw, I came to know my severe protector better. It was a slow process, yet little by little I melted through his cold, formal exterior to find an earnest, loyal man beneath the surface . Though a ceaseless source of strength, I began to learn more about the knight and came to understand the loneliness he himself struggled with by virtue of his own constraints of chivalric propriety and royal fealty. That’s when I began to suspect that me and this young knight had been coupled more purposefully than he’d previously let on.
Years later, my relationship with Bryce had endured and blossomed. We were nigh inseparable, and half-joking rumors began about myself bewitching the honorable Sir Bryce. Being a man of principle, he of course hated the idea and actively spoke out against it, but when the gossip was brought to my attention, I couldn’t help but giggle at the witty accuracy of it on account of me and Bryce sharing my bed chambers for the better part of my bed chambers for the better part of my installment as arcane advisor. I often joked that Bryce was the true enchanter, and identifying the hopeless, giddy expression of a lovesick fool on my face, they took to my meaning. It was this way, as Sir Bryce’s infatuated thrall, that I was truly readmitted to the social circles of the court, and with me I dragged my dutiful bodyguard, effectively integrating the king’s favorite knight into his court after years of Bryce being a self-proclaimed “servant of the court” instead of being part of the court.
It is on one such social engagement that our story well and truly begins. This evening was dedicated to one of the king’s ornate balls. Foreign dignitaries from all of the surrounding countries, local nobles, and respected commoners were all called to the palace to celebrate coronation day, the anniversary of King Godrick’s crowning and the accession of his lineage to the throne by his ancestors. It was a date of great importance, one that I’d taken the honor of celebrating in the palace every year since I’d become advisor, but Bryce shied from the opportunity, believing he’d be shirking his duties to join in the festivities. It was on this year that I finally coaxed the knight into attending, insinuating he’d be failing in his mission to protect me if he didn’t watch me closely that night and that I might find a way to get into trouble should he watch from a distance as he usually did. The threat was a complete bluff, and though I got the sense that Bryce knew that, he relented anyway. I beamed like a damned fool for the entire night with my strong, handsome bodyguard on my arm, and from all of the knowing glances we received, I had the impression that we were the talk of the ball. Even our dance garnered respectable applause, a gesture that even caused the always serious Bryce to smile like a giddy school boy.
We were both reveling in how perfect the evening was when a trumpet cut over the party’s noise. All eyes turned to the king, presiding over the affair in his balcony above the dance floor. He stood with a confident air, smiling down on all of us with a near paternal warmth. King Godrick was undoubtedly the most beloved king of the age, a naturally strong and benevolent leader, yet many speculated to his legacy. Without a known heir, blood or otherwise, nobles speculated as to whether Godrick would leave the kingdom to civil war from a mere lack of foresight. Though he didn’t appear it, with his fit physique and an only slightly graying beard, the king was getting on a man’s shoulders was known to be a detriment to the royal lifespan. The rumor was that the king had selected an heir and was waiting for the right time to make his choice known, and some said that tonight was the big night. I knew better than to put any weight in court gossip by this point though and listened with a good deal less anticipation that I suspected almost every other person present at the ball.
“Subjects,” the king began, his robust voice echoing through the hall, “thank you for joining me on this, the anniversary of my great grandfather’s rise to the throne, my own rise to the throne. It is a day rife with meaning and importance to us all, a day that has tradition sewn into its very fabric.”
King Godrick paused, as if collecting his thoughts.
“I’m not unaware of the rumors that have sprung up in relation to this, the night traditionally tied to the declaration of heirs,” he announced with a knowing smile, “and you will all be pleased to know that I’ve come to my decision.”
Surprised gasps and excited murmurs echoed up to the king’s balcony. The atmosphere had suddenly become electric in intensity as everyone listened intently to the speaker. The king, once certain everyone had settled, and he had their attention again, opened his mouth as if to conclude the grand declaration. It was peculiar, then, when Godrick suddenly paused. A frown crept across his face, an expression of self-irritation, as his mouth shut close again. The guards and attendants in the royal balcony regarded him strangely as the king slowly began to stoop downwards, as if to reseat himself. His behind missed the ornate chair, however, leaving him in a poised squat. The entirety of his audience watched as the grimacing king grunted, a strained sound of tremendous effort. Some of those in the same balcony as him rushed to help him, presuming he’d injured himself to some effect. That’s when a loud bout of flatulence rang out through the acoustic hall. Everyone gasped as the seat of His Majesty’s trousers suddenly expanded outwards on perfect display in front of his court. The balcony’s guards stepped backwards, noses scrunched from the stench. Everyone watched, wide-eyed, as the king, respected and admired by all in the land, soiled himself like an infant.
Then the frown on his face dissipated into a doughy-eyed, dopey smile as he declared, “I made stinkies!”
What happened next was a blur of activity. The king was suddenly whisked away from the public eye, and the attendees of the ball were informed the event was over. Almost everyone exited the hall in shock. Bryce and I both rushed to inquire after the king’s state, but the guards turned us away. Foreign dignitaries left to file back into their carriages, some disgruntled at the abrupt and undignified treatment they were receiving while others gossiped about the strange display they’d bore witness to and how it might affect the structural integrity of the kingdom. Lower members of the court retired to their rooms or local residences, but I noted that most of the king’s advisors weren’t present among these, causing me to speculate as to their activities. The stuporous shock that seemed to affect the general audience of the ball addled my mind. I wondered why they would not be by the king’s side during this bizarre tribulation, assuming that if I were not presently allowed to assist His Highness the rest would be barred from his presence as well. As Bryce warily escorted me back to my chambers, I came to realize that my absence from the king was not born of necessity, but rather the vain preferences of his other advisors.
“They’re making a mockery of me,” I growled to Bryce, “and when I might possibly be needed most!”
Bryce, only half paying attention to my grumblings, gave only a simple nod as his alert eyes scanned the torchlit corridors of the palace.
“Perhaps I should demand an audience with the king,” I angrily posed. “That’d surely ruffle their feathers. I’ll simply say that he’s cursed and that I need to fix it.”
“Is he?” Bryce asked, his somber tone taking on an unusually inquisitive edge.
“What?” I replied, drawn from bitter introspections.
“Is the king cursed?” he repeated with a strange tenseness that was unfamiliar from him. “Do you know?”
“Well, no, but-”
“And say that he is cursed,” Bryce stoically continued with a sigh of frustration. “Could it have been that you cursed him?”
“Of course not!” I furiously exclaimed. “Why-”
“Of course not,” Bryce repeated, turning to regard me with a skeptical eye from over his shoulder, “but would the other advisors know that?”
I faltered as Bryce refocused his attention on the way ahead. I knew he was right. Bryce had a gift for performing in stressful situations, and with the king being so strange, I needed his level head more than ever. He seemed more terse than usual though, less tactful in the way he handled the situation. It seemed that this incident affected him more than I’d previously assumed. Surely as a knight of the realm he held the king in high regard, but I couldn’t understand why Bryce would be more concerned than the rest of us. We all revered the king, but at that moment Bryce acted as if he was faced with the loss of someone beloved. I quietly reflected on my guard’s behavior as we arrived at my quarters. I expected Bryce to join me for the evening, dutifully taking his post beside me in bed, yet he asked permission to inquire after the king again. I paused, examining the stoic expression that thinly veiled his desperate urgency. I knew he’d been close to Godrick since before I’d become acquainted with either of them, but never before had Bryce been so driven to abandon his duty of protecting me. I sighed before giving my permission with a kiss on his lips, bidding him to return safely to my side. I couldn’t deny him, despite wanting a clearer understanding of his motives. He smiled and wished me a good night. I wistfully watched him leave from my doorway, chiding myself for acting like a helpless maiden.
When he’d disappeared from sight, I rushed into my chambers and began collecting the implements for a steadfast scrying spell. I mused that if Bryce thought I could possibly be trusted to sit idly by without his supervision, perhaps we truly didn’t know each other as well as I thought we did. I gathered the implements required on the table and began the intricate weavings of magic’s tapestries. In reality the spell was nothing more complicated than combining a bowl of water and a hair from the king’s head, something I’d requested of Godrick in confidence for just such an emergency, to summon up a visage of the royal in the liquid’s reflection. I gasped to see the king surrounded by the same advisors I’d noticed missing, yet he was being tended to in the way I’d imagined. Godrick was on his knees, suckling his thumb with the same dopey, drooling smile from the party was spread across his lips, and a vague, dazed expression filled his features. His dopey appearance suggested an opioid influence, though I had no knowledge of any substance that would produce such a specific reaction from the king. However, the most shocking aspect of this vision was his appearance, mostly nude save for the thick diaper, apparently soiled from stains at both his filth-packed seat and urine-drenched crotch.
The advisors present seemed unphased by their ruler’s unseemly state, standing around him with mirthful smiles. They jeered and pointed at the king in a nearly childish manner, laughing at his expense. I paled as I realized the king’s earlier lapse in sanity was not only a plot against him. This dubious plan was orchestrated by the very men that were intended to protect him. With little time to lose, I rushed from my chambers. The insidious injustice afoot needed to be exposed immediately, and I knew of no other man more appropriate to seek for aid than the captain of the palace guard. I doggedly charged down the stairs to the lower floors of the castle, panting raggedly as I reached the guards’ chambers. Lamplight flickered from under the entrance’s wooden door, and I smiled in relief at the prospect of the captain himself awake and ready to remedy the tumultuous situation. I knocked on the solid wooden door, and the knight’s rugged voice barked from within.
“Sir Rodney,” I began, barging through the door, “the king needs hel-”
My voice froze in my throat upon seeing the knight’s surprised expression. Rodney stood poised behind the desk stacked high with reports, obviously interrupted, and opposite of the guard captain was Bryce. Clad in full plate, a defensive measure that my bodyguard often disregarded as gaudy or extensive, he wore an uncharacteristically blissful smile on his normally serious face as he regarded me.
“Master sorcerer,” Sir Rodney addressed me, his startled expression melted into a relaxed grin, “what were ya saying about the king?”
I gave Bryce a sidelong glance, trying to gauge the strange situation I’d stumbled into, before cautiously answering, “I’m here to inquire about the king.”
“Aye,” he responded, eying me acutely, “Bryce here was just asking about ol’ Godrick himself, weren’t ya Bryce?”
“Yes, sir,” Bryce answered dully.
Silence fell over the room as Bryce and Sir Rodney stared at each other with blithe smiles.
“And?” I hesitantly pressed.
“Well, we both learned it was none of our business, didn’t we boy?” Rodney replied with his glazed expression intact.
“Yes, sir,” Bryce droned.
“What?” I gaped. “What on Earth are you two on about?”
“All good soldiers obey the counsel,” the captain of the guard dopily declared in response. “Those just be the facts.”
“Good soldiers obey,” Bryce echoed stupidly.
I was stunned speechless and attempting to parse out what was unfolding before me when a strange trickling sound filled the bizarre silence, like someone was filling a piss pot. Then a golden puddle spread outward from Rodney’s boot.
“Aw, darn,” he chuckled. “Looks like I’ve leaked again. Mind giving me a hand, boy?”
“Yes, sir,” Bryce answered with a smile.
The guard captain took a few sloshing steps backwards before seating himself on top of his desk with an audible squish, papers cascading to the floor. Bryce helped the older knight hoist his legs up onto the sturdy oak desk and began the process of unbuckling him from the drenched armor starting at the feet. I gasped as the plating was pulled away to reveal a strange inscription lining them from the inside. I’d never seen magic this devious or ornate before, and unfortunately, I had no insight as to what the enchantment exactly did without closer inspection, something I wasn’t likely to attempt while the armor was covered in piss and dangerous runes. I wasn’t surprised, however, when Bryce removed the piece protecting Rodney’s loins to reveal a well-used diaper utterly flooded with the knight’s own piss. As I watched, slack-jawed, while my lover unfastened the infantile garment, I reflected on how the time Rodney must have been subject to the runes. He’d dutifully wore armor every day I’d known him. Had he always been like this, diabolically programmed by some treasonous advisors to be humiliated and subservient?
Then a glint from within the diaper caught my attention as Bryce folded it back. Around Rodney’s masculine member was a strange contraption, a cage that encased the organ to perfectly fit its flaccid form. From within his cock throbbed in protest, clearly long unattended to, and strained to grow to its full length, yet despite the pain he surely experienced, Rodney continued to smile in blissful incomprehension. A brilliant silver, the lock shined with inordinate splendor given its context and had a series of intricate runes coating its surface. I’d never seen anything like it, but it was certainly the heart of the bizarre corruption that’s overtaken the knight.
“Captain!” I gasped, finally finding my words. “Your manhood!”
“What about it, lad?” he inquired with a sigh of euphoria as Bryce applied a new diaper around the knight’s waist. “Your pet here is all locked up too now that we got ‘im fixed.”
“Yes, sir,” Bryce confirmed.
“I can see why ya like him, sorcerer,” Rodney expounded with a serene smile. “The cage almost didn’t fit around that great sword of his, but give it a few weeks. Then it’ll be little more than a tiny dagger like mine, one more shrunken-cocked, diapered soldier for the counsel…”
“Good soldiers obey,” Bryce declared, clearly absent mentally.
“Good soldiers obey,” Rodney echoed.
The two continued this surreal sound-and-call routine, unaware as I crept from the chamber and hurriedly snuck back down the hall. Obviously I’d receive no help from the guards, and even more unfortunately, I couldn’t count on help from Bryce. It was deeply disheartening to consider that the man I’d developed such deep affections for was held hopelessly enthralled to such demeaning magic and soiling himself like an infant, but if the cages were truly the root of the enchantment, I only needed to remove it. I sighed as I came to my only conclusion, I had to face the advisors head on to identify the magic they had used and dissolve it. With that goal in mind, I swiftly made my way to the king’s chambers. Guards stood barring the entrance, and they too had the blank, blissful expression I’d observed Sir Rodney and Bryce feature.
“I need to attend to the king,” I demanded.
“He is not seeing anyone,” one of the guards droned.
Planning on my feet, I said, “Good soldiers obey.”
“Good soldiers obey,” both echoed, suddenly standing at attention.
“Let me pass,” I commanded with more confidence than I felt.
To my surprise, both complied with serene smiles on their faces. They each stepped aside, crinkles resounding from within their armor, and I barged into the chambers, quickly locking the door shut behind me. Inside I found the king, still sitting back on his padded haunches and odoriferous enough to be smelled from the entrance. His face was the picture of euphoria as he gleefullysucked on his thumb. His diaper was obviously well-used and extremely thick, as if someone had simply wrapped the royal in more layers instead of actually changing him. The crown was haphazardly discarded beside him, the symbol of his power by birthright offered as appropriate a treatment as the king was submitting himself to.
What caused me to falter, however, were the other advisors. While surrounding the king, smiling and laughing, none of them were standing. Instead, they were all on the floor beside the monarch, babbling and drooling in much the same fashion as he did. They too had forgone their clothes from the ball, instead only clad in their own thick diapers. I was left stunned as I watched the supposed villains of this plot against the king soil themselves, taking great joy in toying with their infantile coverings as if it were some new courtly fad.
“Pathetic, aren’t they?”
I quickly turned my attention to the source of the voice at the far side of the chambers. From the dark corner stepped forth a familiar grizzled man. My eyes went wide as I identified my former master, the previous arcane advisor and old codger that’d been so loathed in his time, Wizard Brunen. He was no longer the shrunken, wizened thing used up by centuries at court. The old codger’s bare chest was toned in massive muscles, bare to reveal an intricate patterning of runes covering his body. His long gray beard had been shaved down to a simple scruff around his devilishly grinning mouth, and his scalp was covered in more of the arcane patterns instead of hair. His face was a mask of joyful malice, first directed at the diapered men before us and then at me. The weight of his anger in that gaze was enough to push me a half-step back.
“You?” I gasped. “I thought you died!”
“By dragon?” he sardonically scoffed. “Who told you that?”
My eyes flicked to the economic advisor drooling from around his own toes.
“I’ve had this court on strings long before you got here, boy,” Brunen spat with a frown. “Godrick was the only one I could never get to submit. He and that whelp of his.”
Then a chilling, steely smile split the older man’s face.
“But look at me now!” he cried as the runes covering his body began to glow.
The group of infantile men on the floor began to go into a babbling frenzy. Boisterous flatulence rattled the covering over their behinds. A wet hissing turned some of their diapers to an even brighter golden color. Nearly all of them moaned or grunted as they rubbed and humped their damp groins. The dazed, imbecilic expressions seemed to solidify, causing the formerly powerful men to appear even duller than before. I watched in terror as the wizard absorbed the intelligence from the leaders of the kingdom, leaving them mentally debilitated infants of men, and they carnally pleasured themselves, cursed to relish their reckless return to babyhood oblivion.
“Stop!” I cried out. “Stop hurting them!”
“Very well,” Brunen sadistically smiled, turning to me once again.
Suddenly I felt my entire body go numb as my gaze locked onto the older man’s. My body became rigid as I experienced my mind begin to fade, swiftly carried away like dust into the wind. I was cognizant enough to recognize that he was stealing it away a single aspect at a time, however, and he’d begun from the front, so to speak. I experienced my most recent learnings of the arcane arts drift away, followed by the ins and outs of court etiquette. As he pulled, I felt a sort of counter current to the breeze eroding my mind. Reaching out with that innate magic the old codger had so loathed in our time together, I pulled. An expression of shock broke over the old man’s face moments before a dark spot formed at the groin of his trousers. I smiled deviously as I pulled again. With a sudden grunt and a cry of concern, the beefy wizard squatted downward to emit a tell-tale flatulence. I laughed maniacally as we returned to picking away at each other’s minds.
Unfortunately for Brunen, he was at a huge disadvantage. As he continued, it became apparent that he was still hopelessly systematic in his methods. Though better trained and quicker moving, he had ten years of court etiquette to file away before he could truly affect my arcane knowledge, and it appeared that even then he could only erase my knowledge first, not memories. Meanwhile, I descended on his mind like a plague, burning away at his ancient intellect at random, yet I recognized that I was at my own disadvantage. He had more years stored away in his skull than I did, and in his desperation, he had begun to pick up speed. I was tearing him apart, but I was doing so blindly. I needed to take something from the wizard that would disable him completely, so with a blind thrust, I reached out with my mental grasp, grabbed the piece of the wizard’s mind I sensed I could seize, and crushed it. I sensed Brunen’s power suddenly recede. My attention refocused on reality to witness his enraged, piercing gaze grow dull and misty. His mouth slowly drooped open, a line of drool cascading down his trimmed beard and onto his chiseled pectorals. The runes covering his body had faded, and his entire body had taken on a defeated slump. I smiled weakly at the older man.
“Brunen?” I panted, exhausted from the exertion of our mental duel.
He regarded me with dull eyes that showed little comprehension.
“Flex for me,” I commanded with curious intent.
The older man immediately began stretching his impressive figure, featuring his new bodily developments. I watched wistfully, weary from the efforts, before chuckling at the prospect of succeeding to steal the one thing the old fool hardly ever had, free thought. From there it was merely a matter of putting the pieces of the puzzle together, understanding exactly what had happened to Godrick and his court, and developing a method to reverse the ill effects of whatever strange enchantments the wizard had inflicted on the denizens of the castle. It was simple enough to order Brunen to bestow upon me the key to the various locks attached to the manhoods of the court, and then I was in a position to free the men from their bizarre bondage. All of the advisors, guards, castle guards, and even the king himself were all quite surprised to find themselves donning diapers once waking from their time under the locks’ spell like a strange dream. With every genital I unlocked, another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
Brunen had been a menace to the palace for years, I came to learn. Even before he’d resigned from his position, he’d sought to manipulate the court using forbidden magics, and it was through these dastardly methods that he’d seized power over most of the guards and advisors of the time. All of these men had suffered caged cocks that’d forced them to bow to the wizard’s every twisted whim, and he’d nearly succeeded in caging the king as well. Unfortunately for the wizard, the royal line is gifted with impressive endowments, and none of Brunen’s strange contraptions could possibly be utilized to encase the royal manhood. That’s when King Godrick had chosen me as successor of the arcane advisor’s position and all but dismissed Brunen. The clever king had even assigned me Bryce’s protection, somehow knowing of the knight’s similarly impressive endowment. Godrick wanted assurance that, should Brunen ever return, a guard impervious to the wizard’s tricks could possibly defend me, so I might deny the old man his twisted domination.
Unfortunately, this hadn’t been the case. Time away from the court had given Brunen time to forge new implements and different magic. He secretly transcribed it onto every guard’s armor, pacifying them into incontinent and dependent babes of men, and with the castle’s protectors properly under his control again, he inhabited the palace like vermin. He wore away at the king and his advisors the same way he tried to debilitate me, and the king’s display on coronation day was the culmination of the wizard’s work over a span of months. All of his victims, while delighted by their returned freedom, were disappointed to learn the effects of the wizard’s newer magics were likely irreversible, each of them probably needing protection for a considerable time to come.
Bryce in particular seemed disheartened by his lack of bodily control, viewing himself as less of a man for his dependence on me for changes. Other times he’d exhibit oddly childish traits he hadn’t before, such as a fear of thunder or an infantile sense of humor. Whenever he’d act this way, I’d embrace the tall, burly man like a child, softly cooing sweet nothings that only he could hear, and I’d grope the prominent bulging in the crotch of his crinkling pants as his face turned an adorable rosy red. Our already complex relationship took on a new facet as I explored new ways to emotionally and sexually fulfill this new vulnerable aspect of my lover, my baby boy, and for once it seemed something he was almost eager to explore with me.
Time rolled on, and eventually time came for the next coronation day. The damage of the previous year had transcended into culture through lavish ingenuity that only nobles can achieve in their endless spare time searching for ways to stylishly increase their standing in court, and the ball featured all of the men dancing in the most fantastic diaper-centric outfits. Flashy onesies and flamboyant diaper covers had become the fashion of the court, something we’re all still famous for, which spawned an accidental artistic renaissance of the infantile that all of the other courts sought to emulate. The king once again spoke from his balcony, his caped silk romper putting everyone to shame, and he even managed a laugh when he stopped to relieve himself into the seat of his diaper.
“Stinkies indeed,” he quipped with a smirk.
“But earnestly,” he continued once the crowd had quieted down from their jubilation, “I would not be standing before you today without the assistance of my arcane advisor, a man to whom my kingdom owes an immense debt.”
Applause filled the room as eyes of adoration focused on me from all angles. I blushed as I became very aware of Bryce reservedly clapping by my side, gazing down at me with glowing adoration. Our bond had grown increasingly deep as of late, and I felt his unbearably beloved at that moment. I gazed up to my guard with a saccharine smile, taking in the sight of the muscular man clad in his uniform leather-embroidered onesie. Unable to restrain myself, I gave his padded rump a light pat of affection, causing the taller man to blush when my hand caused a squishing sensation at his rear.
“That is why,” the king continued with a playfully chiding tone that caused the court to titter again and recaptured my attention from Bryce’s bum, “I give my blessing to you and Sir Bryce, the successor to my throne. May you both be forever happy together.”
The applause suddenly became wild cheers. Shouting and hooting filled the hall. It was astounding to behold. What the king said was flattering, yet I didn’t fully understand what had just happened. I turned back to Bryce and gasped to see those love-struck eyes filled with tears of joy. Looking back, I should’ve reflected more on the king’s relationship with Bryce, why I’d been trusted with his finest knight, and how the king knew of the young man’s private bodily assets. I’d never heard the rumors of the king’s fleeting beloved or speculated on Bryce’s lofty position despite his disdain of it. Seeing my confusion, Bryce chose to enlighten me at the time with excited cheers of joy.
“I’m Godrick’s son!” he explained. “We’re going to be kings!”
A million questions flew through my mind, but before I could ask them, Bryce pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss. In the pleasure of the moment, I forgot my curiosity.