A Royal Rebellion by Revella Hawthorne Page A

walked deeper into the house, the thick stones walls and the hues of blue making it feel colder in the shadows. Bright lights and the sound of music could be heard ahead, and Percy picked out the tinkle of high pitched giggles and deep masculine laughter.
    Edward’s arm went tight around his shoulders, and Reynard dropped back to walk on Percy’s unprotected side. Mason shot them a quick glance, sarcasm having an expression it would be in the way Mason shook his head at them. They stopped outside the open door, golden light spilling over them.
    Percy peeked around Mason’s wide shoulders, eyes going wide at the sight in front of him.
    It was a large room, made for comfort, couches and chaises and lounges littering the expanse. Wide loveseats and deep piles of pillows completed what Percy would compare to a harem from his fantasy books, and when he saw the nearly naked and beautiful forms lounging about, he figured it was pretty accurate.
    “Dammit, Mason! I didn’t want him in this environment!” Edward hissed at his brother, and Percy found himself behind Edward, view obstructed.
    “Eddie, Percy grew up in this environment. We’re the ones out of place, not him,” Mason said casually, and Percy looked around Edward to see Mason shaking his head. “There’s nothing to be scared of, Eddie. Your precious virtue is safe from some fluff-brained pleasure slaves and a handful of retired breeders. Oh, and an aging harem master, but he’s too drunk to bite hard.”
    “Mason!” Called out an accented and slightly slurred man from inside the room, and the giggling cut off. “My darling boy, did you find your lost love? Ah, I see you did! And is that Farmer Eddie I see? Tell the young prude to stop being so jealous of his lovely dove, I have plenty of my own. Come in, gentlemen, and have a drink!”
    “Prude? Did he call me a prude?” Edward asked angrily, and Mason laughed. “Farmer Eddie?”
    “Coming, Lucius,” Mason called out, and he walked inside the room.
    Percy waited for Edward to make up his mind. Reynard stopped halfway between Mason and Edward, as if torn, waiting as well for Edward to make a decision.
    “Saint’s Blood…..” Edward grumbled, but he took Percy’s hand again and walked forward. “Percy, stay at my side at all times, understood?”
    “Yes, Edward,” Percy promised, following.
    There were at least twenty people in the room, with maybe enough clothes between them all to cover a normal sized man. Percy was accustomed to nudity, in himself and others, and the naked pleasure slaves and the rare breeder he could see didn’t bother him at all. The slaves were easy to tell apart from the breeders, at least for Percy. The slaves, all females, were lithe and slim with an elfin cast to their features, with high, smallish breasts and narrow waists. The breeders, also female, had wider hips and more flesh on their waists, though they were by no means overweight. The breeders also bore marks of their purpose, faint silver stretch marks on stomach and waist, and breasts that were fuller and not quite as high. The pleasure slaves were sterile, and their attributes were decorative, and unchanging until advanced in years. Breeders aged, albeit slower, but they still showed themselves to be past the first blush of youth. Percy only ever saw breeders past the age of thirty when they were retired back to Heritage and taken to the breeding pools to continue the in house stock lines, so to see the handful of females free to move about and not pregnant was odd for him.
    Edward led him after Reynard and Mason, who were taking seats near the fireplace, where an exceptionally handsome older man was holding a clothing optional version of Court.
    He was clothed, but the pretty slave on his lap was not. She was tiny, and looked no older than Percy, but she was designed to look that way, and could be ten years older. Wild, long and bouncy curls of vibrant red hair spilled over her shoulders, and deep blue eyes,