Prince Bash is still exhausted from the hunt. Those wolves gave him a harder time than they're worth.
He lies in satin. He's in the buff. From the windows, and through the vaults, heavenly light streams. He can almost hear heavenly music...
Sif perches atop him, on his six-pack. Its texture is SO marvelous, against her feminine black hole. She's gorgeous. Bash will NEVER forgive the Franks for becoming extinct...or near-threatened, rather...
She caresses his head with her soft hands. She's in the nude. She lowers her head, and caresses his face with her big lips. Ah, she's such a treasure...
"Prince Bash?"
Bash is in paradise. With luck, his father's subjects will NEVER ask him for help...
"Prince Bash?"
Why should Frenchfolk even need help? Can't they just...seduce all their problems away? France has SO many talents. They shouldn't even need a government…
"Prince Bash!"
Bash wakes. He's in his own bed...but Sif's not there. Near his bed, the maid stands. He covers himself, sits up, and asks her what issue demands his attention, but not the King's or the crown prince's.
"It's about that Frank you summoned. She dodged her summons."
Bash nods. "Thank you for telling me. Message to have my horse prepared. I've a journey into the countryside to make..."
"Your horse is still in veterinary care, Prince Bash."
He sighs. "Fine. Get me A horse. One way or another, my better business lies in the countryside...wherever the hell that lovely Frank is."
Before long, Bash is riding across the countryside...on an unfamiliar horse. He needs not stress. He's been lost in the country once. With luck, Sif will find him again...
In the keep, his father watches, drums his fingers, and sighs. He understands that his second-born son is in no position to take on royal duties as a monarch. But what if the crown prince dies? If Bash becomes king, will he save France, or doom it?
