Twilight of the Dragons by Andy Remic

seemed suddenly less drunk and more predatory. Then she frowned. “May I ask, Geraldo, how you went from being a soldier in my uncle’s army to being naked in my pool?”
    Geraldo gave a strangled little cough. He glanced around. “One of your… lady friends spied me whilst I was on parade. She requested that I be dismissed from the king’s guard and re-employed here as your… as your…”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œAs your butler,” said Geraldo, voice perfectly even, eyes staring straight ahead with the same stare he’d used whilst being bellowed at by a staff sergeant. “I open your carriage door. I close your carriage door. I bring you trays of drinks. I feed you sweetmeats. Sometimes, I even cook your evening meals.” He lowered his gaze, so that he stared straight into the princess’ emerald eyes. “It’s a real challenge,” he said, without any hint of irony.
    Emilia flipped her other hand, and tilted her head. Her long blonde curls bobbed across the water in what she imagined was a massively seductive posture. Nearby, a naked man on a stool deftly tuned a lyre, then started to croon a love ballad. The sun painted orange whorls across the lapping water. Distantly, the city buzzed, a muffled backdrop to the real business of royal hedonism.
    Geraldo could sense what was coming. Married, with two young daughters, he wanted no part in this pantomime, and deeply resented this mindless goldfish of a woman who had, indirectly but by her royal edict, had him forcibly ejected from the military – the love of his life – and sentenced, sentenced, to an eternity of pointlessness. And yet he could not go against a direct order of King Yoon. It would not only cost him his own life, but that of his family.
    And so he gritted his teeth.
    â€œIt’s funny,” crooned Emilia, and sat up a little, slopping wine into the water, “But I feel a little chill, and so I think I shall retire to the royal tent for a lie down. Geraldo, would you please accompany me with my goblet and a fresh flask of chilled wine.”
    â€œYes, Your Highness,” said Geraldo, and taking the proffered damp limp hand, helped Princess Emilia Ladine to stand, resplendent in her gold bangles and nothing else, and then to step daintily up the steps, emerging dripping and radiant from the pool whereupon a maid rushed forward and draped a luminous floating chiffon robe around her pale shoulders, hiding nothing of her sexuality. Then she linked arms with a dazed Geraldo, and guided him to the extravagant tent which had been erected to one side of the platform roof near the fancy, carved marble barriers.
    The tent was perhaps twenty feet square, and contained a bed, silk blankets, a brazier, and a large, elaborate, carved-oak drinks cabinet which had taken ten men, a league of rope and nearly a week to haul to the top of the tower on an elaborate pulley system. The rich tent fabric was red and gold and glossy, and rich, with more gold, as befitted a princess, and especially a beautiful princess of King Yoon’s lineage. Incense was burning, and this incensed Geraldo who was, to all intents and purposes, an honourable outdoor man who would rather keep Emilia’s rancid stink and drugs from his system.
    Oh no, he thought. I knew this day might come. That I might have to make choices. But how do I wriggle out of this donkey shit? How do I get away from the insane bitch who’s suddenly taken a liking to me?
    Emilia ducked through the tent flaps, practically dragging Geraldo with her. Once inside, she turned, and smiled at him, droopy, drug-infused eyelids fluttering, and started making slobbering kisses as Geraldo strained backwards.
    â€œCome to your princess, there’s a good boy,” said Emilia, closing her eyes and tugging him towards the bed.
    â€œWait, wait, Your Highness!”
    Finally recognising the panic in his voice, her eyes opened and she fixed him with