Candidate 02

It didn’t take much time after that meeting with his father, for Lotor to find himself reluctantly escorted to the room in which the bridal candidates waited. Haggar was ever ready to be of service, the witch all smirks as she stayed close to Lotor’s side. There were over a dozen castle guards accompanying them, their true purpose clear. They would see Lotor to his duty, or die trying to stop the prince from fleeing.

Lotor couldn’t say he wasn’t tempted to cause a scene. To fight it out with the castle guards, maybe even kill them in his attempt to escape his father’s scheme. But he knew that these were good men, soldiers who didn’t deserve to die just so Lotor could continue his bachelor’s way of life. So he sighed, and wore a put upon expression, marching through the halls with a slump to his shoulders.

“Oh do stop pouting, Prince Lotor.” Haggar advised him. “It is not to the executioner’s blade you go to.” He gave her a sour look, which only made the witch chuckle. “There are other fates far worse than marrying a princess. Especially one who is rich, and eager to make an alliance with Doom.”

“Since when do we make alliances?” Lotor demanded. “Drules take what they want. Always have, always will.”

“Ah, but sometimes there is merit in a more peaceful route.” Haggar retorted with a smile. “And your father has always appreciated the worlds who are quick to give in. The worlds who recognize the Drule as their betters.”

“Hmph.” Lotor made a scoffing sound. “I doubt they really believe that. No, if anything it is greed for the Empire’s power and wealth that makes them so quick to roll over and ally with Doom.”

“It’s no more foolish than fighting against us, when one cannot hope to possibly win.” Pointed out Haggar. Lotor had to agree with that, giving a curt nod.

“So tell me witch…Just what am I dealing with? What worlds attempt this alliance because their military is too weak to stand a chance against Doom’s? And what worlds are the ambitious ones, with an eye on the empire’s power? Are there fortune hunters among these candidates? Are there women among the brides who would slit my throat as soon as an heir is conceived?”

“I will of course, be there to help you navigate these treacherous waters.” Haggar replied. “To help guide you towards a sensible choice.”

Lotor made a disgusted face. The sensible choice didn’t always mean the exciting one. But he was aware the kind of excitement these women offered him, might very well be the dangerous kind. The kind that could end with him laying face down in a puddle of his own blood!

“If you were wise, you’d help me find a way to get off this hook my father has tried to trap me with!” Lotor grumbled.

Haggar let out a small titter of laugher. “Prince Lotor, you know you can’t put it off indefinitely. The throne needs it’s line continued. You need a legitimate heir. No one will accept a bastard sired on one of the many slave girls you keep.”

Again he grumbled, but Lotor knew what the witch said was true. But he didn’t have to like it. Her truth, or the fate awaiting him, Lotor slowing his steps even more. It didn’t matter, his slow way of walking could only delay but not stop the inevitable, Lotor finding himself before closed doors. His sharp hearing picked up the sound of many voices, mingling together in a loud murmur of sound. He cocked an eyebrow, glancing at Haggar with suspicion.

“Just how many candidates has my father brought here before me?!”

Haggar laughed, doing nothing to put him at ease. “Your father wanted to make sure there would be someone present who might appeal to your tastes.” She gestured for the doors to be opened, soldiers hurrying forward to do just that. The sound of the voices increased in volume, light spilling out into the hall. Lotor could not yet see inside, the soldiers still surrounding him and the witch. But he got the sense that there was a crowd in the room, the excited chatter not stopping even at the sight of the Drules.

“Presenting, his royal highness, the crown Prince of Doom!” A man’s voice shouted out the introduction. It was the only way to be heard over the loud talk of the gathered females. Talk that seemed to only grow louder, the women here turning excited. That excitement would increase as the soldiers to the front of him, stepped aside, giving the prince a clear view into the room. He was nearly staggered, seeing what had to be at least fifty women present.

“Haggar…” Lotor was shocked, never having dreamed so many would be present. Nor was he comfortable, Haggar practically dragging him forward by the arm. The doors would close up behind him, leaving Lotor the only man in the room. The women looked at him, and he swore their looks were predatory. Many were assessing his features, nodding to each other. Their raised fans hid their mouths, loud whispers being voiced. Praising him. He couldn’t tell who said what, the voices indistinguishable among this crowd.

Thankfully, the women did not all converge on him. They kept their distance, some actually trying not to look Lotor’s way. Others were openly bold, locking eyes with him. Lowering their fans to smile. He did not return that expression, all but scowling at them. Haggar tsked besides him, still holding onto his arm.

“Smile your highness.” She hissed around clenched teeth. “First impressions are everything.”

He didn’t heed her words, glaring at the women. Surveying them in their too white gowns, the dresses almost all form fitting and low cut. It was clear they were placing their attributes on display, ready to be inspected by the prospective groom to be. It wasn’t similar designs they wore. That had been left up to the women, each one deciding to show off her sense of style with the make of her dress.

The white of their dresses wasn’t loss on Prince Lotor. It signified purity, boldly making the claim that no man had sullied the merchandise on display. Lotor wondered how many of these women could hold true to the claim of virginity, the prince thinking some of the women looked too predatory and experienced to have never known sex.

“I need a drink.” Lotor grumbled under his breath. But no drink was offered, Haggar sticking true to the claim he’d make his choice while with a clear head. The problem was Lotor didn’t even begin to know how he could choose among this selection, a foreign feeling filling him. He was close to being overwhelmed, and Haggar didn’t help matters when she gestured for the women to approach.

For one-second it looked like there would be a stampede, the women all stepping forward as though in unison. A gesture from Haggar would have them fall into line, the women beginning to parade past Lotor. As they walked by him, Haggar would announce their title and planet. They weren’t all princesses. Some were empresses, or queens, and there was even a duchess among the crowd.

Many were beautiful. There was no denying that. They came in all flavors, from dark haired to light, fair skinned to not. There was even a few Drule females among the group, adding more color to his selection. One in particular caught his eyes, an attractive female as tall as him, with azure colored skin and hair that was a shocking pink. She was bold as she looked at him, lips curving in a predatory smile. She made no pretense at hiding that she approved of him, the Drule female actually licking her lips in an anticipatory way.

“Queen Merla of Amazonia.” Came Haggar’s whisper. “It’s a small kingdom in the Doom Empire. Small but self sustaining, with some of the fiercest female warriors ever produced. By either Drule or human hands.”

As much as Merla clearly wanted to remain before Lotor, the parade of females forced her to move. Each new face coming with a name, the women there blushing, or smiling. A pretty redhead with jade colored eyes paused to bow low, the cut of her dress nearly threatening to heave her breasts out of it’s bodice.

“Princess Corral of Demos.” Haggar sounded approving. “The Demosian Empire is almost strong enough to rival that of Doom’s. Together the two would be unstoppable!”

“Doom is already unstoppable, witch!” Lotor retorted, though his eyes were on the heaving chest of the red haired princess.

“All it takes is one defeat, for Doom to lose everything.” Haggar cautioned. “You would do well to consider the princess Corral for your bride.”

Corral was clearly reluctant to move away from Lotor, another princess pushing at her in a none too subtle way. This girl smiled brightly at Lotor, looking far too young to be a choice for him. She turned downhearted when Lotor did not return the smile, but then Lotor had yet to do anything more than glower at each female.

“Princess Romelle of planet Pollux.” Haggar continued the introductions. Lotor fought to keep from gasping, seeing this princess fit his tastes quite well. She was blue eyed and blonde, and with a more than adequate bust that he longed to cup and fondle. She gave him the shyest of smiles, seeming timid compared to the last two women who had come before him. Lotor didn’t know if she was adequate bride material, but he well thought Romelle might be worth bedding a time or two.

Blushing as though Romelle had read his mind, the princess hurried out of the way. More women would come, and then a most dowdy of candidates would step forward and curtsy. Haggar’s voice lacked enthusiasm as she introduced the last of the women.

“This is princess Allura of Arus.” She told Lotor, in a dismissive tone. “Her planet is a small fertile world. Perfect for farming.”

Lotor wouldn’t have paid any attention to this plain Jane princess, if not for Haggar’s tone. It was clear the witch thought this Allura a less than ideal candidate. Lotor could guess why. Farm worlds weren’t a particular rich planet, and Arus was probably as backwards as the rest of them. It’s princess certainly wasn’t anything spectacular, wearing her brown hair at shoulder length. There was a hint of curl to those dull brown locks, and her eyes were hidden by tinted spectacles. He didn’t know what color her eyes actually were, nor did Lotor care to find out, the prince turning as dismissive as Haggar.

The princess straightened, her movements stiff. Lotor assumed she was displeased by his lack of interest. But who could blame him, in that baggy dress that hid her figure’s curves from sight? And that was assuming she had any, Lotor noting the neckline of the dress enclosed around her throat. Allura of Arus wasn’t much to look at, and Lotor was ready to put her out of his mind.

Nor did any of the women present here, seem threatened by the plain looking princess of Arus. Some of the women were actually smirking, most likely pleased they had one less female to worry about. More were looking at Lotor, some gazes hopeful, some demanding. If a choice was to be made, Lotor had no idea how to go about it. Looks and titles weren’t enough to go on, the prince standing there awkwardly. He didn’t like the uncertain feeling he had, Lotor trying not to glare even more. He’d actually turn and sneer at the witch, voice a heated whisper.

“Well, witch? Now what am I supposed to do?”

“Dance.” Came the witch’s suggestion. He blinked, taken aback by the idea. “There is much that can be discovered while in the arms of a woman.” Added Haggar with a laugh. “Provided you take the time to look.”

He grumbled again, his eyes going to the expectant crowd. They seemed to hang suspended, waiting for the prince to do something. To pick one of them. His eyes began looking over the females, trying to decide who if any might be worth his time. Princess Romelle stood out as a choice morsel, though Lotor refrained from licking his own lips. He didn’t have marriage on the mind, far more interested in getting under the princess’ skirts rather than make a real choice.

The heat in his gaze proved too much for her. She’d actually blush and look away. He wondered if she was timid by nature, or if it was all an act to charm him. He might actually look forward to finding out, but then a stir of unease caught his attention. The women were grumbling, talking amongst themselves in an upset manner. It was no surprise too, for that Queen, that Merla had stepped forward. Walking towards him with a purposefully sway of her hips, the tight white leather of her miniskirt showed off her long legs. Lotor could easily imagine those legs wrapped around him, the prince allowing a fantasy to take root as he imagined pumping inside the Queen.

The queen wasn’t put off by the lewd desire in the prince’s eyes. If anything, she matched it with her own, Merla projecting sin and sex in her every look. Lotor couldn’t help but grow excited at her approach, the prince shrugging free of Haggar’s limp grip. To the unrest of the crowd, he would stride forward, meeting Merla in the middle of the room. She smiled pleased at him, her voice a sultry purr as she spoke.

“Prince Lotor. Would you do me the honor of the first dance?”

He wanted to do more than just dance with her, Lotor allowing his first grin. “How can I refuse such a beautiful Queen?” She laughed, the sound throaty and sending shivers down his spine. This Queen was bold, and knew what she wanted. It might be sheer arrogance to believe so, but Lotor was positive the Queen had an instant attraction for him. Just as he was positive she was no virgin, the Queen too seductive in her dress and her every movement.

They moved into each other’s arms, beginning to sway to the faint music that played. It would grow louder in volume, though it could never succeed in drowning out the conversation around them. The other bridal candidates faded to the background, upset faces barely noticed as Lotor focused on the Queen. But he could hear their upset murmurs, the bride forming groups. Whispers of complaint were heard, the women upset that Merla had been bold enough to make herself the prince’s first choice for tonight’s dance.

“How are you finding Doom?” Lotor asked.

“It is as dismal a world as ever.” Merla replied, making no attempt to flatter his world with lies. “It’s a wonder the cities thrive as they do.”

“Is it different on Amazonia?” Lotor asked, though he wasn’t all that curious about her world.

“Different enough.” Merla said, pursing her lips together. His eyes were drawn in by that movement, Lotor thinking how lush her mouth looked. “It would be quite a change, to suddenly have to live on Doom.”

“But no doubt one you are prepared to undergo.” Lotor smirked.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t willing.” Merla practically smirked then.

“I wonder how many here can say the same…” Lotor wondered, thinking some of the women here probably hadn’t been properly prepared for the harsh environs of planet Doom.

“I wouldn’t know, nor do I care.” Merla said, her fingers doing a caress down his back. “You’re the only reason I am here. The only one I want to get to know.”

He tried not to feel flattered by her single minded focus. “So you’re not trying to make friends?”

“With the competition?” An airy laugh. “Heavens no!” Merla shook her head, pink hair fluttering around her face. “I’ll worry about playing diplomat at some later date and time. A time when the stakes are not so high.”

“You’re not afraid you’ll turn me off with this kind of talk?” Lotor inquired, curious.

“There’s very little I fear.” Merla confessed with a smile. A new song was starting, but neither Drule moved away from each other. “And the look in your eyes, tells me you are the same…”

“Indeed.” Agreed Lotor.

“It must be difficult for you.” Continued Merla. “This arrangement of potential brides.”

“I can’t say I’m happy about this being sprung on me.” Lotor admitted. “If I had my way, I’d put off on choosing a bride.”

“Don’t be too hasty to discount us.”

“You really mean, don’t discount you.” Lotor grinned. She didn’t even try to hide it, Merla smirking.

“So glad you understand me.”

A voice was clearing her throat, Lotor stifling a groan. Haggar was behind him, and a glance her way showed her disapproving frown. “What is it, Haggar?” Lotor demanded rudely.

She was no more respectful than him, Haggar snide as she talked. “It is unfair to the other women here, to dance a third dance with the Queen.” A pointed look Merla’s way, hinted that Haggar felt the Drule Queen should already know that. “Not when you haven’t devoted time to any of the other women here.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to dance with them all!” Lotor grumbled. He was loathe to let go of Merla, enjoying the feel of her pressed up against him.

“You can and you will.” Haggar insisted. “It will help ease the making of the decision you must make. A decision that will not only affect your future, but that of the Doom Empire.”

Lotor grimaced then. “And of course we must do everything we can for a positive outcome for Doom.” He turned back to Merla, an apologetic look on his face. “If you will excuse me…?”

“Of course. I can’t say it’s a pleasure to part from you though.” Merla’s hands stroked down his back, the Queen giving a bold squeeze of his rear. Lotor didn’t so much as start in reaction, smirking at her. But before he could return the squeeze, the beautiful Drule had slipped free of his arms. Lotor enjoyed watching her walk away, as much as he had her approach, seeing the way the white leather molded over her shapely bottom.

Again Haggar made a sound, annoyed. “You shouldn’t show so much favor to any one so soon!” The witch advised him. “Especially this early in the day!”

“You should be glad I am showing interest in anyone!” Lotor retorted with a growl. But his gaze wasn’t on her, the prince scanning the crowd. No one else seemed as bold as Merla. Certainly no one else tried to step forward to ask for the next dance. Briefly, his eyes met Merla, the Queen looking more amused than put out by the fact Haggar had ended their dance.

But he couldn’t linger his eyes on the Queen forever, Lotor looking from face to face. Trying to decide which of these beauties to dance with next. The Princess Corral looked appealing, but standing near to her was the princess of Pollux. She wasn’t looking at Lotor, instead turned to listen to something the princess of Arus was saying. Allura, like Romelle wasn’t paying any attention to Lotor. In fact the brown haired princess seemed bored of the proceedings, intent instead on whatever Romelle said in reply.

He wasn’t curious what they were speaking about, Lotor deciding he would dance with Romelle next. He’d walk towards the trio, Corral’s face lighting up with a hopeful smile. Romelle would look up startled, and say something that got a tiny laugh out of Allura. That laugh is what drew Lotor’s gaze back to the Arusian princess, the prince freezing in place to see the smile on the girl’s face.

Suddenly the uninteresting had become something more. That smile, it knocked the wind out of Lotor. And he found it a ridiculous reaction. So unlike him to be affected, to be intrigued by a woman with so plain an appearance. So what if her pouty lips looked delectable. So what if that change of expression made him take a closer look, Lotor realizing she wasn’t quite so unordinary.

Her skin was clear, and unlined, holding a soft flush of color. Color that seemed to increase, her cheeks turning pink as she realized just who she was the focus of. She’d actually take a step back, as though hoping to disappear into the shadows. Lotor advanced determinedly towards her, finding he wondered what color her eyes were behind the tinted spectacles. Then abruptly stopped, wondering what was wrong with him.

So what if the plain Jane princess had just showed one single sign of desirability. There were other, more appealing women in the room. At least as far as looks were concerned, Lotor knowing he would be glad to fuck more than half the females present here. Just as they would be honored by the attention he showed them.

In a sour mood, Lotor changed his course. Walking with his eyes now on Romelle, only to find Corral stepping into view. The red head princess’ look was almost too eager, her smiling beckoning him closer. She was already extending a hand to him, Lotor hesitating only a second before taking it. Corral blushed prettily, allowing him to pull her away from her companions.

She went eagerly into his arms, Corral inhaling deeply. That deep breath made her breast swell, dangerously close to falling out of her dress. He didn’t even try to hide that he looked down at them, Lotor’s gaze appreciative.

“Corral….that is a lovely name.” He said, and was rewarded with a giggle. He looked up at that sound, noting the long lashes of her eyes. She gazed up at him through them, a coquettish look on her face.

“Thank you.” She giggled again, the sound not enough to grate on his nerves. She was a beauty, but didn’t seem all that bright. The look in her jade colored eyes was almost vapid, and she seemed prone to giggling at everything he said to her. Perhaps that giggle was to cover the fact she wasn’t all that fluent in the language, a fact that was shocking given how Basic was common uniter among many worlds.

They’d danced for the length of a song, Lotor wondering at his chances when it came to a quick bedding of this female. He couldn’t be certain, her eagerness could just be a show. She might be bold and forward in public, but shy away from doing anything scandalous in private. But her beauty was such, it might be worth finding out how far he could get her to go.

Haggar would appear, ready to end the dance at the appropriate pause. Corral actually glared at the witch, a bold move on the princess’ part, as the red head reluctantly stepped away from Lotor. Hopeful expressions were turned his way, each girl desperate to be his next choice. Each girl save for Romelle and Allura, though it might just be shyness on their parts. He almost frowned then, wondering why he even bothered to think of Allura in the same thought as Romelle. So what if she had become something more when she had smiled? A smile wasn’t anything to base a marriage on!

But he couldn’t get that lush mouth out of his mind. Lips that looked born to wrap around his cock. Now he really did frown, Lotor wondering if he had really jsut had that thought. And about someone he wasn’t attracted to, save for that pretty little mouth.

His frowning look unsettled the women. They didn’t understand the reason behind it. Lotor knew then there was only one thing to do. And that was to approach the princess of Arus, and demand she dance with him. Maybe then he’d be able to prove to himself she wasn’t worth pursuing, that she wasn’t anymore interesting than the first time he had seen her!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: