THE TRASH PRINCE'S BLUEPRINTS

CHAPTER 11: THE CROWN PRINCE'S COUNTERPLOT

At the Crown Prince’s private solar inside the Shadowpeak Citadel, the main fortress of House Blackmoor, Crown Prince Alaric Vaelen Thaloria sits beside his table, reading the reports of the blasphemous and sacrilegious actions done by the Second Prince and his supporters inside the Philippa Hamilton Theater recently.

He seethes with annoyance while reading the reports. His right hand curled into a fist. His expression darkens, with his teeth clenched in anger, and annoyance at the blatant disrespect and disregard of Second Prince Theron Valeheart Thaloria against House Blackmoor and the Holy Church.

That insolent Second Prince dares to disrespect me and the House of my mother and my uncle. He dares to disrespect the Holy Church, and everything the Holy Church stands for. He shall rue his actions, and I shall make it clear that the Holy Church and House Blackmoor aren't entities to be trifled with, and made mock of.

Crown Prince Alaric thinks to himself as he dipped his quill pen in the ink, and starts scribbling instructions to his trusty servant, a certain upjumped sellsword named Sir Jeremy Kendall, and make sure everything done in the dead of the night, when everyone in Thaloria Kingdom is fast asleep. He seals the letter, and summons Sir Jeremy Kendall to his private solar.

Sir Jeremy walks upright with a bold swagger to his steps, while dressed in rich, expensive clothing, his well polished boots clinking loudly on the marbled floor. He has a wide grin that reaches his face, and his sharp eyes twinkled with mischief and insolence. He does not even bother to bow his head in deference to the Crown Prince’s more elevated position. He looks as though he just came from an expensive brothel in Blackmoor City, with an attractive young girl named Brittany Watson, who smells of sin and seduction, and look the part, walking beside him.

“ You have a need for me, boy? What is it this time? “

Sir Jeremy addresses Crown Prince Alaric with a mocking drawl and mock humility in his voice. Sir Jeremy sits down on the chair opposite Crown Prince Alaric’s table, without bothering to ask for Prince Alaric’s leave to sit down, and motions for Brittany to sit down on the chair beside Sir Jeremy.

“ I’ve had enough of your insolence, Sir Jeremy. I could have had you flayed and imprisoned for all these… acts of disrespect against a royal. “

“ Insolence? You’re just a boy with a fancy title, pretending you’re oh so high and mighty. I know you won’t dare to have me flayed and imprisoned. You need someone to do your dirty jobs for you. That's why you hired me and I became a knight in the first place. Don’t take me lightly. “

Sir Jeremy laughs with a threatening smile, full of unspoken knowledge about the dirty little secrets of the Holy Church, and House Blackmoor.

“ Do pardon Sir Jeremy here for being rough around the edges, Your Highness. It’s an honor to meet you, and talk to you in person. I’m Britanny Watson, no more than 18, and I work as a Silken Hostess in a Silk Hostess Brothel. “

The young and attractive hostess named Brittany Watson stands up with a seductive sway in her actions, and does an elegant curtsy in front of the Crown Prince.

“ It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Britanny. If I may ask, I have important matters to discuss with Sir Jeremy here, and these matters aren't meant for your ears. You may wait for Sir Jeremy in the common room of Shadowpeak Citadel. “

Crown Prince Jeremy acknowledges Brittany with a forced, uncomfortable smile, and a polite nod, and gestures for her to go outside the Crown Prince’s private solar.

As Brittany takes her leave, the Crown Prince looks on with sharp eyes at her sexy and seductive figure, and the sway in her hips when she walks outside the private solar.

“ You and your fancy rules about tradition, honor, dignity and humility. You Blackmoor nobles and members of the Holy Church fancy yourselves to be oh so holy, clean, and free from sin, yet I still see your eyes fixed on that girl. Yet I know many of you still frequent brothels when you feel the need. Do you like her, boy? I assure you, she’s good in bed, but she isn't cheap. “

When Brittany is finally out of earshot, Sir Jeremy laughs, his voice rich and deep with mockery. Crown Prince Alaric ignores Sir Jeremy’s blatant mockery, and presses ahead with the matter at hand.

“ What I want you to do, is stated in this letter. Here, break the seal and read it for yourself. “

Sir Jeremy grabs the letter with hands quick as a cat, rips open the seal with a touch of irreverence, takes one look at the contents of the letter, and tosses the letter to the fire.

“ But you just skimmed the contents. Did you even read it properly, Sir Jeremy? “

“ Why should I bother, boy? I know what you want of me. You want penniless mages killed the way the Second Prince killed those Holy Mages, and you want a few of them arrested alive, to be proclaimed guilty of some imaginary crime and executed the day after. Consider it done, boy. “

Sir Jeremy stands up from his chair without so much as a by your leave from Crown Prince Alaric, does a mocking, elegant bow to the Crown Prince with his head bent, with one hand on his chest and the other hand on his back, and a wide, wicked, insolent grin plastered across his face, before he turns on his heel and walks out the door of the prince’s private solar, his boots clinking loudly against the marbled floor, with a bold swagger, one resting on his sword hilt, which is gilded gold, engraved with the figure of a n***d woman.

Sir Jeremy is as insolent and wild as the Second Prince and Third Prince, which is a liability, but he’s the best fighter and messenger I have in my employ, and he gets things done. Wait till the Second Prince and the Third Prince hears of it the next day, and mages from Solaria to Frostmark hear of what happened while they slept. They shall fear my name, the name of House Blackmoor, and that of the Holy Church.

The Crown Prince thinks to himself as he crossed his fingers against his chin in a calculated manner.

Later that night, the Crown Prince finds himself n***d in his private chambers, kissing Brittany in the lips as a n***d and sexy Brittany Watson spread her legs for him, and he keeps thrusting his manhood deep inside the wet and dripping hole between Brittany’s legs, while Brittany's face is flushed with pleasure,her lips moaning and her eyes rolled back against her head, glistening beads of perspiration forming on her forehead, with her n*****s hard and erect with the sheer pleasure of bedding the Crown Prince.