Chapter 8. Voyage, Concubine, & Gift

Wide-eyed, Robert stared down at Lady Alerie Hightower on her knees, her one hand already clamped around his exposed shaft while her vapid face inched closer to his exposed purple knob. Not even waiting for his size to rise, she opened her mouth and took all of his semi-flaccid shafts in.

How can a proud woman of Hightower and Tyrell stoop so low?Robert asked himself, shocked by her shameless compliance to his demand that was supposed to be a deterrence.

Robert felt her wet mouth around his shaft already tightening. No, it was rather his erection that was gaining size and stretching her lips dangerously. He failed to notice any change in Alerie Hightower's expressions. No disgust, no lust, no aversion to what she was doing. Her eyes just remained focused on his pelvis as she softly stroked around the base and suckled the tip.

Robert didn't know what to feel.

As a king, seeing a proud lady like that felt highly pleasing. As an honorable man, it felt wrong. But as a man who knew the history, he knew House Hightower was far from anything honorable. The very house that tried to take the throne by proxy, by using Alicent Hightower and her son Aegon back in the Targaryen civil war.

Perhaps House Hightower was responsible for the end of the Age of Dragons. So keeping all that in mind, Robert couldn't help but view Lady Alerie with discomfort. At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to trust the Tyrells. There were too many interests involved.

"Ahk~" Lady Alerie struggled as Robert's shaft grew to its full length.

At that point, her pouting, gaping lips could only suck the tip and a few more inches while the rest had to be stroked using both her hands coated in her spit. She tried her best with her tongue, slobbering the rim of his cock. At least her eyes held a look of surprise due to his inhuman size.

Robert continued to look down at her in silence. The tall, dignified, beautiful woman, lithe in her form, was certainly a beauty who had retained her charm even as she grew older. But, her expressions seemed more dead than her shame.

It was a physical pleasure but also a mental conundrum. As Alerie's hands became faster and her mouth tighter, Robert felt a tickle deep within his core. He felt close to shooting the fluids in her mouth.

"Ugh… Stop this." He quickly stepped back, escaping her lips and freeing himself. Sanity prevailed finally and he tucked his cock back in his breeches. "If Mace finds out your life and honor will be ruined."

Alerie remained on her knees, her flushed, tired face expressionless. "I'm doing this for the future of my house. Should you ask for more, I shall give it. He need not know."

"More? To go as far as to bed another man? Where is your honor, my lady?" Robert asked her, extending his hand.

Alerie Hightower accepted it with a graceful nod and rose to her full height. "Honor is useless to those who gain nothing from it."

Sadly, I agree with that.

"What do you want?" He asked her straightforwardly.

Lady Alerie dabbed her lips clean with a piece of cloth that Robert handed before answering. "A chance for House Tyrell. Margaery is young, beautiful, and fertile. She'll be a devoted wife to you and a nurturing mother to your trueborn heirs."

The same ploy they played during the Dance.Robert saw through it. The game would start from marriage, and then the House Tyrell would demand a seat on the Small Council. Slowly, the Tyrells would stretch their influence everywhere.

"A chance! Only one chance. I won't make any promises to the Martells during my stay in Dorne. The rest depends on whether your daughter can impress me," Robert declared and walked over to the door, opening it for Lady Alerie. "We're done here."

Lady Alerie nodded silently and headed to leave the room. But just before she exited the door, she sized up Robert with her eyes, her gaze lingered for a few moments on his still visible erection. Then, she gave out an audible sigh and left.

He noticed it but tried to ignore it. Ever since he had woken up as Robert, the number of women who had tried to bed him had exceeded his imagination. From maids to maidens, from smallfolks to noble ladies—all wanted a piece of the King's pie.

Better focus on the journey.

As the morning dawned, Robert left the Red Keep and moved to the docks with five Kingsguard and almost five hundred Baratheon soldiers. The Royal Fleet was one of the three strongest naval fleets in Westeros.

Soon, Robert boarded his personal ship, King Robert's Hammer, the largest and the fiercest ship in the Royal Fleet with its four hundred oars and massive sails. It was named after himself, and built for his use. Complete with a large King's cabin, and more comfortable cabins for any guests onboard.

It was escorted by other fierce war galleys such as Bold Wind, Seaswift, and Lionstar. Furthermore, eight more war galleys of varying sizes were to follow and secure the King's Ship.

He could have taken the road, but he reckoned that would have been far more exhausting and time-consuming when their goal was to reach Sunspear. It didn't make sense to traverse the entire Dorne on land just to reach its easternmost shore.

"Barristan, get us moving!" Robert ordered from his ship's deck.

Quickly, Ser Barristan signaled the ship's captain, and from there the flags were raised to signal the other ships. Soon after, the ships entered Blackwater Bay and made their way past Dragonstone to finally enter the sea waters.

Turning right from the Sharp Point, the weeks-long journey began. For Robert, there was nothing to do but train with his five Kingsguards, sleep, eat, and repeat. All the while their prisoner, the infamous Gregor Clegane, remained in the ship's deepest, damp cells, almost crippled.

"Again!" Robert boomed at the Kingsguards to spar again. "Put some weight in it!"

The men feared harming the King, but at the same time feared being injured by the King. It was a frustrating enigma that they found themselves facing every day.

Thankfully, Robert never made them bleed.

As Robert's fleet moved south, House Stark's army moved North to return to Winterfell. With the war over, justice was met, and Robb Stark only wanted to escort the prisoners to the Wall and be done with it.

But he still remained sharp, unsure if Tywin Lannister might try something to get his son back. Thankfully, they neared Riverlands in no time and gained more Tully men for their protection. However, that was when they heard the voice.

"Robb! Robb!"

From a horse going towards King's Landing, Robb Stark heard a feminine voice calling his name. He raised his arms and halted the march quickly and looked at the figure. A lone, hooded man on the horse with a smaller figure seated in front of him.

"Arya?!" Robb jumped down from his horse and ran up to the other horse. "Is that you, Arya?!"

He barely recognized her since her hair was cut too short. She looked more like a boy than a girl.

"Robb!" Arya jumped from the horse and ran up to Robb, embracing him quickly and crying her eyes out. She even hugged Catelyn who approached them. "Mother!"

At that point, the hooded man also got down from the horse and greeted Robb. "My Lord."

Robb chuckled and simply went over and hugged the man. "Jon!"

It was a short family reunion.

However, Catelyn remained steadfast and dismissive of the Stark bastard. She kept Arya close by her side and, with a sharp nod towards Jon, inquired, "King Robert has summoned you, then?"

"Aye, my Lady." Jon nodded stiffly.

"You did well to find Arya," Catelyn said with a faint, approving nod. "But you must make haste. Do not keep the King waiting."

"I understand, My Lady." Jon turned to Robb and bid his farewell. He went closer and clasped hands with his half-brother. "I'm sure you'll make Lord Stark proud."

"I'll try to. Don't forget your home whilst in King's Landing, Jon. It's the real pit of snakes."

"I'll remember then," Jon said and waved at Arya before mounting his horse. "Take care, Arya."

"If Sansa requests, you must escort her to Winterfell later," Catelyn ordered just before Jon left. Her tone made everyone there displeased. That was not how one asks for a favor.

"I will," Jon humbly replied and galloped away on the horse.

Back in the Narrow Sea.

"Hold! Don't fall off!"

"Starboard! Starboard!"

Storms were expected when they began their journey. But this one was fierce, and the entire fleet had to make quick maneuvers to save themselves from high waves. Thankfully, their war galleys were large enough to take the beating and continue to make the journey.

"Wreckage on the starboard side! Wreckage!"

It was hell, but at least the storm had arrived during the daylight. Due to that, they soon noticed the wreckage of another ship. But this one clearly didn't belong to them as it flew a different flag. It was beaten by the waves, its mast destroyed.

"Save them first!" Robert issued a command and moved on the deck himself to throw in the ropes. Many people were floating in the water with the support of the wreckage. Some were on a smaller boat that they likely took out in time.

"Pull!"

The men quickly started pulling the people out of the water. Rope ladders were also thrown down to anyone who could swim closer to them. The storm was still going on so it was tough to maintain pace.

It took them more than an hour to finally save a total of twenty souls. The ship likely had more, but by then nothing was left to save as the vessel sank.

"Who are they?" Robert asked from the sidelines, watching the saved people slowly gather themselves and get up to dry their clothes. There were six women and fourteen men in the group.

Ser Barristan went over to interrogate and soon brought back answers. "Your Grace, that ship belonged to Tregar Ormollen, a merchant prince of Lys. They were on their way to Tyrosh when the waves battered their ship. That man in golden robes is Prince Tregar, and the six women are his concubines."

Merchant Prince from Lys?Robert eyed the man with interest. It was clear the man was wealthy.Can this be a blessing in disguise? I need gold more than anything else to save the crown from ruins.

"Your Grace, I'm thankful for your great benevolence." The merchant prince approached Robert and bowed his head in greeting. "My end was imminent if not for you."

Robert just gave a nod, keeping the air of royalty around him. "Don't trouble yourself over it. Ser Barristan, see that Prince Tregar and his concubines are given the spare rooms. He'll be our guest for the rest of this bloody journey."

The merchant from Lys bowed his head in gratitude.

Robert gave one last look to the man, noticing the Dornish features, but still different. With a pale brown face, silver hair, and large eyes, the prince was a more rotund man than Robert while also being shorter. No doubt, the man had likely seen only luxury in his life.

With that, Robert returned to his large personal chamber to have some rest. It was impossible to train in that storm, so he chose to get some rest instead and wait for the furious waves to pass.

Unlike the seas, King's Landing still basked in warm sunlight. For the most part, the people had one meal a day at least. As for those in the Red Keep, life was amazing.

Such was the case for the two girls, Sansa and Myrcella. The two had become inseparable, spending more time together than away. On most nights they even shared the same room and ate all three meals together. Their laughter filled the gardens and the hallways, uplifting the melancholy left behind by the series of executions.

However, there were more things going on behind closed doors than just laughter. In front of the big, open window that filled the room with warmth, Sansa and Myrcella sat on the large bed close to each other.

"I-I don't know, Myrcella. Should we be doing this?" Sansa nervously murmured, her body leaning backward against both her arms while she stared at Myrcella in front of her, raising her gown up from her milky white legs.

"I… I…" Myrcella gulped and kept on going, sliding Sansa's gown up until she could see her smallclothes covering her intimate flower. She inched between her legs and got closer before smiling. "How will you take King Robert in if you can't even tolerate a finger?"

Sansa took a deep breath and nodded. "How do we start?"

"Get rid of this first," Myrcella suggested, pointing at the smallclothes.

Sansa nodded, slid her fingers under her gown, and pushed down her smallclothes. Smoothly, she took them fully off her legs and placed them aside.

"Widen your legs," Myrcealla said.

Sansa nervously followed instructions.

"Let's see." Myrcella felt excited for some reason. Both her hands already rested on Sansa's thighs, so the warm feeling of the skin made her interested in seeing what Sansa held there. "Oh!"

"What happened?!" Sansa exclaimed in fear.

Myrcella sighed and widened Sansa's legs with her own hands. She stared at the junction of her thighs, the pale pink entrance was as untouched as she had expected. One look, and she knew she'd be tight—perfect for Robert. But, the amount of hair made her frown.

"Sansa, it's a forest down here! Have you never removed them?"

"Remove? How?" Sansa frowned and quickly clenched her legs together in shame.

Myrcella sighed and sat back, folding her arms. "Oh, my dear Sansa. You know nothing."

The storm had passed, and calm waters returned as the night crept in. Robert summoned his guests to his spacious quarters, where a large dining table awaited. The room was lavish, fit for a king, with a grand canopied bed against one wall, a writing desk and chair nearby, and thick curtains to partition the bed from prying eyes. At the far end, a private, enclosed privy offered its own discrete retreat.

A small, dinner feast was thrown in the name of Prince Tregar, and his second life that he was blessed with that day.

The man came with all his concubines and sat around at the table, close to Robert. He never stopped thanking Robert for saving him and going out of his way to entertain him. It was clear to Tregar that while he may be wealthy, Robert was someone who held true power in his hands—the power to cause large-scale violence. That was the only real power recognized in the world.

"I owe a great debt of life to you, Your Grace. I'll send a chest of gold once I return to Lys," Tregar promised as he devoured the meat and wine. "I'll spread the word of Your Grace's benevolence."

He's buttering me up like a pig in the oven.Robert didn't like it, but he let the man babble. In truth, he just wanted to form deeper relations with the man to open a new trade route for his personal coffers.

At that, he glanced at the six concubines that Tregar had brought. Each one of them was a beauty of the highest standard, some with dark skin, some brown, and some pale as snow. From black hair to blonde and white. From busty bodies to slender frames. No doubt, money earned the obese prince more than just a luxurious lifestyle.

However, his eyes fell on one of the women and it left him pondering.Have I seen her before?

"Ah, that is my chief concubine," Tregar proudly introduced. "A beauty, isn't she?"

Robert nodded. "What about your Lady?"

"My wife? Ah, she's as much of a merchant as I am, Your Grace. Both of us leaving Lys together means losses." Tregar explained. But midways his eyes lit up and he looked back at his chief concubine. "Your Grace? I offer you my chief concubine for the rest of this journey! That's the least I should do, for saving our lives."

Seven Hells! What's he jabbering about?

Robert frowned and politely declined. "There is no need for such extremities, Prince Tregar."

"No, I must! Lys is most famed for our bed slaves. While she may just be my concubine, I assure you she's highly competent in bed, haha—That's why she's the chief concubine."

Did I ask?Robert sighed and just focused on the meal while giving a few chuckles. He only wanted to speak with the man alone later about trade, not women.Is this how your life was, Robert? Women thrown at you from all sides?

Creak!

Soon after the chairs scratched on the wooden surface as they all stood up. Dinner was over, so the guests began leaving the King's quarters to return to their small but comfortable rooms.

No, no! Take the bloody woman with you!Robert frowned, noticing one of the women still seated. The so-called chief concubine had golden hair, skin the color of cream, and a faintly busty, but mostly slender, average-height frame.

"Your Grace." Treagar looked back at Robert just as he approached the door. "Concubines are not allowed to birth bastards, so they no longer possess the means to make one. I thought you might find that useful—I hope you have a pleasurable night."

"Take her with you," Robert raised his voice.

"She's not mine to take anymore. Not for the coming two weeks."

Thud!

The door was slammed shut.

The creaking of the ship's frame, the gentle swaying, and the faint sound of water. In that strange silence, Robert looked at the woman still seated, guessing her to be somewhere in her late twenties.

But he still couldn't get rid of that feeling. He had seen her before but couldn't remember where or when.

"What is your name, my lady?" Robert asked. He didn't know how to address a concubine. By just her name?

The woman looked towards Robert finally and gave a radiant smile, her full lips were pouty, her blue eyes sparked, and the black eyeliner elevated her charm. "I am Lynesse Hightower, Your Grace."

Hightower? Ah, isn't she…

"Jorah Mormont's wi—"

"Former," Lynesse interjected, cutting through Robert's words. Her thin brows knitted together, a flicker of disdain shadowing her face. "That man was a liar, Your Grace. Singing praises of his House, weaving tales of riches and glory, yet hiding the cold truth of those barren, Bear Islands. Ten years past… I was but a girl of seven and ten then, Your Grace—I couldn't live with those lies."

Robert sighed and walked closer to Lynesse. He rested his strong hand on her delicate shoulder and tapped a few times. He already knew that Jorah was serving Daenerys currently. The man had not only committed the crime of slavery but was also a traitor to the realm now.

She can't return to her house either. Maybe being a concubine was the best fate she could hope for. Better that than some pitiful beggar in the streets.

"Misfortune fell upon you, my lady," Robert grumbled, leaving her where she sat. He dropped heavily onto his bed with a sigh. "No need to share a bed with me. I imagine this old, portly king isn't much of a sight for you. Go back to your chambers, if you've any sense."

"Hah." Lynesse Hightower chuckled and stood up to her full height. Her clothes were the same as she was found in the water, but now dry. A sleeveless, white gown that clung to her curves like a whisper, with a deep neck that revealed just enough. Her pale, golden locks cascaded down to her waist. Bare feet, she brought her slender frame near the bed.

"Unlike you, he's far older and truly unsightly, Your Grace. And let's not forget, you are the King. Even if you were but a horse, you'd still be the object of desire for every woman in the realm and beyond."

"Haha!" Robert laughed at that part. He didn't expect Lynesse to have such humor with that delicate frame of hers. Perhaps it was the rough life she had lived that made her that way. "Aye, there's some truth in that."

"And I can't return to my room, Your Grace. His will is my command, and I, as his chief concubine, must submit. I've received enough lashes to know that lesson all too well."

Robert tiredly rubbed his bearded chin and stood up. It was hard to decide whether to pity her or be annoyed. It was true that Jorah lied, and it was also true that she had nowhere to go. He didn't know much about Lys, but since the place still practiced slavery, Lynesse's words didn't seem impossible.

"Then you should take the bed." Robert offered her. "I'll make myself one on the floor."

"Am I that unpleasant to look at?" Lynesse asked.

Robert gazed down at her, her head barely reaching his upper chest. "Lady Lynesse, your place in Prince Tregar's harem speaks to your beauty. It is my choice to not bed you."

"Then I will sleep on the floor. You're the King."

Robert couldn't care less at that point. It was already getting hard to control that debaucherous beast in his body. His mind was screaming at him to just shove Lynesse on the bed and have her. But he tried to defeat that lustful desire. He didn't want women to be his greatest weakness.

"Suit yourself."

He helped her make soft bedding on the floor using quilts, blankets, and cushions. Then, he slid into his bed alone. The best way to stop that lecherous creature in his mind was to fall asleep.

Robert, my old friend. What runs in your veins? Is it blood or a concoction of aphrodisiacs?

He pondered and shut his eyes, back towards the beauty on the floor.

The next morning, Robert woke up feeling the shaking of the boat. He quickly looked towards the floor and found Lynesse still sleeping, likely tired from the whole shipwreck incident.

The resemblance.Robert noted her sleeping face resembled a young Cersei. But Lynesse had less shrewd features than Cersei and more of a look of joviality and simple beauty.Knowing she came from a rich house, Jorah went on to marry her just for her beauty. Now, he chases Daenerys, another young woman.

It was hard to find fault. Lynesse married Jorah of her free will. But she was very young. Jorah, meanwhile, was already a widow after a ten-year-long marriage. The man should have known better.

But then again.Jorah was foolish enough to commit slavery.

Finally, stretching his mighty arms, Robert got up and approached the concubine nestled beneath the layers of heavy quilts. For a heartbeat, he considered waking her, but the peacefulness of her slumber held him back. With a gentle touch, he slid his arms under the warm bedding, lifting her light frame with the ease of a feather.

Carefully, he set her down on the bed in the end and stepped away.

Ah, this isn't what Robert would have done.He sighed in silence. If this was truly Robert Baratheon, Lynesse wouldn't be in her clothes on that bed.Control! I must control this urge!

At last, he walked to the side and grabbed his warhammer before leaving the King's cabin.

"Morning, Your Grace." Ser Baristan greeted him as soon as she stepped into the open. The sky was clear that day, and the birds were making some noise.

Robert nodded and left the warhammer with the Kingsguard. He walked to the side to wash his face and clean his teeth with the mix of a herb and a stick.

"Let's continue the spar, Barrist…" His voice trailed off as soon as he turned around. The Kingsguard and a few other men were staring at him with a knowing look. They glanced at the door to his cabin and then back at him.

"I didn't touch her." Robert clarified.

"Yet."

Robert glared at Ser Barristan. Since when did the old Kingsguard start making jokes? "What did you say?"

"Let's spar, Your Grace."

He let the slight go and raised the warhammer. In fact, Robert went harder on the five Kingsguards and beat them till they couldn't raise their swords anymore. Surprisingly, he didn't feel tired himself.

Something was happening to his own body and he had no idea how to explain it. He felt stronger now than ever. His wounds always healed in one night's rest. His stamina increased beyond anything he had before. Heck, he felt he could race a horse right now.

But what scared him even more was how much he was still growing. Every single day he noticed the changes.

Thud!

"Stay down!" Robert bellowed at Ser Barristan. The old man didn't lose because of bad technique, but because of less stamina. Robert's defense had become so strong now that hitting him with the blade had become too challenging.

Clank!

Ser Barristan let go of his sword. Fighting anymore would have meant entering that life-or-death battle mindset.

"You are growing to be a bigger demon than you were before, Your Grace."

Robert gave him his hand. "Returning to old glory, Barristan. Nothing else."

"I hope Dorne will see the same."

Me too.Robert couldn't openly say anything. He had no clue about what game the Martells wanted to play.

He looked at the sun's position. It was hours past afternoon with the sunset merely an hour or so away. He sighed and stretched his neck before turning around. It was better to freshen up and get ready for dinner. Tonight he planned on dining with Prince Tregar alone.

Night came, and no storm was in sight. Robert dressed up in a comfortable tunic and some loose breeches. The sea breeze going south continued to feel warmer and making everything pleasant.

He sat alone at his dining table, waiting for the prince from Lys to enter. There were only two seats placed at the table this time.

Knock! Knock!

The door opened and the familiar figure of Lynesse appeared, her dress the same as the previous day, her face clear and golden hair combed and cascading. She greeted the King with a bow.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. Prince Tregar isn't able to join you tonight because… He's preoccupied with the ladies," Lynesse apologized.

Seeing her voice contained a hint of fear, Robert kept himself from getting angry. "He's a man of great appetite it seems."

Lynesse shook her head. "No, he enjoys watching the concubines more… Pleasuring each other."

"A man of taste then, hah!" Maintaining the usual Robert style, he boomed with a laugh and waved at her, gesturing for her to come closer. "Come on, then. If not him, you should join me for dinner."

Fear seemed to disappear from Lynesse. She softly smiled and approached the table. But instead of sitting at the far side of the table, she dragged the chair beside the King. Then, she poured the King some wine before preparing a plate for him.

Robert appreciated her small gestures.Has she always been this mindful? No, this must have happened after becoming a concubine.

"Tell me about your life in Lys, Lynesse," Robert asked her.

"It's comfortable as long as I obey the orders. As the chief concubine, I don't always have to see him at night. I manage the other concubines and keep them in line. There is always food to fill my belly, wine to drown the hours, and gold to adorn myself in finery. Yet…" Lynesse exhaled intensely. "But it is not Westeros. True freedom exists only for the nobles and the rich, none of which I am there."

She traded her freedom for a more comfortable life then?Robert, or rather Eddard could understand her side of the story. To a degree, at least. He knew how cold the North could get, and for a girl from the Reach, it was a difference between heaven and hell.

He poured her a cup of wine this time and raised his own glass. Quickly, Lynesse raised her own and he clanked them.

"To our rotten first marriages." He said and downed the cup.

Lynesse giggled and did the same. "Rotten indeed, Your Grace."

The two resumed their talk and kept drinking even after their meals were over. Sometimes Lynesse told stories of Lys, and other times Robert told her stories of battles and blood. Soon, as their eyes became heavy, they got down in their beds.

Robert was on the bed and Alynesse was on the floor.

The next day, the same schedule was repeated. Long hours of spar, then a bath, and finally dinner. Yet, Prince Tregar didn't come out of his room. Once again he ate with Lynesse.

Like that, four days passed and Robert started to doubt if Tregar was even interested in meeting him. Each time Lynesse would return with the same excuse. Each night she would make the same offer of sharing the bed, and each night, they'd end up sleeping in different places.

He wants me to bed her first?

The possibility of that condition arose in his mind. After all, there was no other reason why the man wouldn't meet him. It didn't suit someone who had spoken so highly about repaying the debt of life.

As the fifth night arrived and everything repeated itself, Robert shifted to his bed earlier as Lynesse cleaned the dining table and removed the plates. He watched her move around in silence, trying to convince his own mind that this was the right thing to do. That it was at least worth a try.

You're winning, Robert.

"Your Grace." Lynesse finally finished her work and stood at the bed's footside. Coiling her finger in her golden locks, she repeated almost the same words as the last four nights. "May I share the bed with you?"

"Are you being forced?" Robert asked back, a change of dialogue at last.

Lynesse shook her head vigorously and looked at his loins. "At the start, I was. Now, I'm more interested in… In seeing you."

You're winning easily, Robert.

Robert fell into deep contemplation. On one hand, he was aroused by her femininity. On the other hand, he wasn't sure what Tregar was plotting. Why does the man refuse to meet him despite being on the same ship?

"L-Let me do something, Your Grace. If you're not pleased you can stop me." Lynesse offered him and went as far as to slide her white gown off her delicate shoulders and let it slip down her smooth skin, revealing her perky, handful tits, and then her bare slit, decorated with a tiny strip of trimmed hair. Her thighs were squeezed together, but there remained a gap adjacent to her entrance, letting him see the lights behind her.

She was no less of a woman than Catelyn or any other. In fact, Lynesse was in the prime of her life, and hence beautiful. Her gorgeous golden locks, gentle, lovely face, her deep blue eyes, and the pale pink tips of her breasts. Alas, Robert could see why Jorah went mad.

Robert relented and slid backward on the bed before lying down flat, head on two pillows so he could still look down.

He gave a quick nod and watched Lynesse climb the bed on her knees and then get on all fours to crawl up. Seeing her handful, perky breasts dangle, and her pristine creamy body coming closer made him aroused. Likewise, his manhood reacted the same and stirred up.

Her toned body held little to no spilling flesh. She had everything in all the right places, a soft and gorgeous frame. Warm too as her fingers traced his feet, and then the calves. He spread his legs to give her space, so she crawled all the way to his waist.

"You will love it, I assure you," Lynesse whispered dreamily. "Just… take me as your lover tonight, Your Grace. I'm no whore."

Robert's fierce eyes became gentle at her low voice. He reckoned this wasn't something Lynesse often did. "I've seen you as nothing but Lady Lynesse since the beginning."

The woman smiled adorably, her white teeth peeking out. With that, she busied her hands and untied the belt on his breeches.

Ugh… This is disgraceful.Robert didn't like how portly he was. Although a considerable amount of fat had been replaced by muscles, he still wasn't anywhere near being called handsome. Getting intimate with a woman as beautiful as Lynesse while being just one step better than a boar was not confidence-inducing.

However, he felt his erection growing to full size in no time. Her oval face was too beautiful, and her slender body was pleasing to look at. He had no doubt now why a Lyseni Prince took an interest in her.

"Oh!" Lynesse exclaimed in shock, eyes wide. The moment she pulled down his breeches, his incredible, enormous shaft plopped erect in the air, greedy for her attention. Thicker than what her hands could circle, longer than any she had seen in life—bulging, visible veins trembling, and the countless flexes of the tip.

It took Lynesse a few moments before resuming her action. She removed all of Robert's lower clothes to get him relaxed and airy. Though wasting no time, she crouched down right under his cock, between his spread legs. Down on her elbows, her hot breath tickled him under the scrotum.

She'll remember this for the rest of her life.Robert pitied somewhat. His cock was as long as her entire face, if not slightly longer. Its thickness hid her nose, lips, and part of the corners of her eyes.May the Mother aid you.

"Mmm…" Lynesse murmured, easing herself up onto her knees, her gaze lingering on Robert's face. With a slow, deliberate movement, she began to gather her long hair, twisting it into a bun with deft fingers. "You may loosen my hair later if it pleases you, Your Grace. But for now, I require… room to work."

What an amusing woman.Robert gave her a nod of approval.

Then, with resolution oozing from her fierce blue eyes, Lynesse once again lowered herself down right below his scrotum. He expected her to start licking his balls and make his way up. But he had no idea what was to come.

First came a strong, audible inhaling sound from Lynesse, her face plastered against his balls. How she wasn't repulsed by that was a mystery. Then, with her right hand, she gripped his upright cock.

No strokes came, however. Instead her slippery silken tongue came out and lapped up his balls. It was a start as she moved his cock around like a stick, reaching for every nook and cranny around the base of his cock to lick and leave her warm wetness dribbling. Under the balls, on the balls, at the left and right corners of his groin.

"Umh… Your Grace, please raise your hips."

What?!

Before he did anything, somehow Lynesse found enough strength to raise his heavy legs and slide her shoulders under his thighs. That made Robert keep his knees bent up so he wouldn't crush her under his weight.

Fearless, Lynesse slid forward on the bed and rammed her face under his cock, and kept licking his balls. However, she dangerously crept forward, more and more, forcing the mighty King to raise his knees higher and higher. To even more surprise, her licks and face kept going down, sliding under his scrotum, reaching for the perineal.

It made sense why she tied her hair then.

"Ummm… Mmmm~" Lynesse kept making moaning noises, busy licking the life out of his groin and below.

Only the Gods knew where her courage came from as Lynesse suddenly moved her arms and pressed up on Robert's already raised thighs, making him lift his knees and in that motion, his ass up too. He felt utterly exposed to this gorgeous woman.

But the next moment he let out a sound so unknown to himself. "Ughhh!"

Seven hells! S-She licked my asshole!

"Umm… Oh, Your Grace~" Lynesse moaned and licked the King there, settled under his thighs, her face plastered below his cock. It was a complete mess down there, wet and sticky from her spit.

Robert clenched his teeth to not let out those shameful sounds. But at the same time, he found himself letting her do what she wanted. This whole experience felt so new yet thrilling.

"Oh!" Robert couldn't help it when he felt her tongue seriously tease him in the wrong places. Where he was expecting her to suck his cock, there she was trying to eat his ass.

Somehow, he felt on the edge just from that. On the verge of pumping out his viscous mess. His balls twitched intensely.

"Mmm…~" She seemed to feel it too so her face quickly retreated from under his balls.

Quickly, Lynesse slipped out from the gap between his thighs, letting Robert straighten his legs calmly. Her hands fetched his throbbing length immediately after that, both rubbing and coating her spit and stroking up. Her pouty lips meanwhile suckled onto his purple knob. Despite his size, she somehow took more in than most women he had seen doing it.

S-She's wild.He murmured, feeling his toes curl. His eyes refused to look anywhere but her figure performing all these miracles of pleasure. Her bobbing head was truly a sight to behold. She was struggling, clear from her face. But she kept on going with a goal in her mind.

In that mind-numbing, soul-shattering suction of her lips, Robert held back his hands. He didn't want to hurt her by grabbing her head. Her weight on his knees felt negligible, so her lips were like feathers that were reaching down him from the sky. It took his everything to not shut his eyes and relish with uncontrolled grunts.

"Giv-Give meh!" Lynesse mumbled with her mouth stuffed.

"Hgh…" Robert wanted to warn her, but only a mindless groan escaped his bearded lips. So, he just let go and relaxed his body. His core muscles knotted on their own, the fantastic culmination of her hard work felt simply too arousing.

"Umm… hmmmm! Ungh!" Lynesse kept stroking him with her hands. But her lips were tightly clamped around the rim of his cockhead.

Robert felt the amazing rush travel through his core. The tickling sensations sprayed out with a first, intense gush. It had been almost a month since his last release, so what Lynesse received was his stickiest, thickest, and most virile gift.

"Mmmmmm~" Lynesse swallowed the first shot as soon as she felt the salty texture fill her mouth. Expecting more, she made room and kept her lips clamped tight.

"Hugh!" Robert finally placed his hand on Lynesse's head and kept her there, perhaps a little lower and filling her more with his cock. The batter continued to ooze out in multiple intense sprays, followed by a calm sprinkle, before ending up with the last oozing drops that her stroking hands squeezed out.

This is perhaps the…He didn't want to accept it but this felt like the best blow of his life.

Robert's head fell back on the pillow, spent like never before. It was shocking to him since he knew his stamina was monstrous. On top of that, feeling her lips still licking his sensitive cock for the cleanup drained the last of his controlling thoughts.

"Hah." He sighed vocally.

Moments later, Lynesse got off the bed and drank some water, rinsing her mouth clean. Then she splashed her face as well, making sure she remained presentable to the King in any way he may require.

At last, she returned to the bed and crawled up to cuddle beside Robert's mighty form. With confidence, she slid near his body and received his arm to rest her head on. She even hugged his chest, her leg on one of his.

"Your Grace?"

"Hm?" Robert only hummed. Post-nut clarity was not an easy thing, after all. He had no regrets, but also had many regrets. It was an extremely strange state of mind.

With a hopeful expression, Lynesse looked at his face. "Have I earned your tomorrow?"

Damn you, Robert. Your lust is stronger than your sanity.

"You have."

"Would you like to continue?" She asked further.

Robert didn't reply and instead pulled the quilt up with his leg, covering both of them. Then, he gripped Lynesse's slender body closer to himself and closed his eyes.

Giving out a melodious giggle, Lynesse shut her eyes too.

It was nice to feel the warmth of another on the night's bed. Both Robert and Lynesse treasured that warmth by sleeping in silence.

Surprise, surprise—Prince Tregar came to the dinner the very next day. Alone, just as asked. That was enough to clarify that getting intimate with Lynesse was an unspoken requirement for that meeting to happen.

From there, Robert held the first trade talk with the man. It wasn't easy, nor fruitful, but Tregar showed interest in Westeros' strengthened stability. Surprisingly, Tregar hoped to establish a Pillow House tourism industry, where wealthy men and women of Westeros could safely travel to Lys for pleasure.

Robert entertained the idea as long as the Westerosi tourists could be taxed and the Crown could earn money. Also, getting to sell Westerosi produce in Lys was a proposed idea.

From the start, it was known that Tregar alone couldn't decide something so major. So, the best they could do was form a memorandum of understanding. The two sides were willing to trade in large quantities, and there was nothing better than that.

"Haha, I'm surprised, Your Grace. I expected you to demand gold from me, or one of our silver-haired, famed courtesans. I see now what makes you different from others. A man who can think for the good of his kingdom even when a thousand miles away from home at sea." Prince Tregar continued to make the puddle of butter with his words. "I'll gladly propose your ideas to the conclave."

Will he?Robert couldn't help but feel doubtful.

"Then I desire nothing else in return for your self-proclaimed debt." Robert raised his cup to toast. "For the good of my people."

Prince Tregar raised his own and laughed proudly. "For the generations of gold and prosperity."

As expected. Nothing but gold matters. I'll have Tyrion take the helm of this matter.

"Ah, one more thing, Your Grace." Prince Tragar put his cup down all of a sudden. "Did you enjoy your concubine? Lynesse is Westerosi, so I reckoned you'd find joy in her."

"She was… charming." Robert nodded.

"Haha, then she's yours, Your Grace." Tragar proclaimed.

Robert almost spat the wine. "What?"

"A woman who sleeps with another can be no concubine of mine. She's yours to play with, Your Grace. A gift! A gift for saving my life."

Robert fell into utter silence, frown apparent.

Is this a trap?

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