Rykard had never been particurly interested in pasta. Noodles were the meals of the peasantry - that was the opinion of the Troyk nobility. Had Miyo been present to read that thought on his face, she would have given him quite the judgemental stare for it.
As, she was not there, so she could neither judge him for his general dislike of noodles nor smugly point out that he was currently indulging in it. Granted, the sauce-covered paste was quite different to the typically soup-based dishes of Miyo’s homend. Both contained ample seafood though.
It was a heavy breakfast, but the cooks insisted on spoiling their new ruler and he wasn’t one to deny a difference in his meal pn. “By this point, I’m halfway conquering new Hexagons just to expand the cuisine!” he joked and gave Lyvia’s ass a smack.
The admiral was standing by his chair and jumped a little bit at the sudden groping. His fingers did not leave the cheeks, kneading away while he extended his empty gss. A servant quickly hurried over with a pitcher, filling it with water. Wine was also on offer, but it was a bit early for that.
Under the table, Helenn was moving her tits up and down his cock. “This is the eureka stick! The source of brilliance!” she decred. It was among the more comical compliments Rykard had received for his cock and yet quite apt.
Apparently, Helenn had received a ‘revetion’ in the midst of her euphoric haze. There had been a joke back in the academy where Rykard had learned the basics of alchemy and artifice: ‘a female goblin’s brain runs on orgasms’. It was a combination of the typically higher libido of the green-skinned shortstacks leading to frequent sexual encounters with whoever managed to woo one and the apparently statistically traceable phenomenon that a sexless goblin had worse grades.
Maybe there was a bit of prejudice in the game of only making a study around female goblins. Rykard certainly knew that he was better at brewing and tinkering when his balls weren’t dragging him down. There was, likely, also a kernel of truth in there. It also seemed that it extended to other tinkering shortstacks.
By the time Rykard had woken up this morning, Helenn had already been working at the alchemy station in the house, getting down the basics of artifice-alchemy interfacing runes and binding agents. Whatever the processes for it functioning was hardly mattered, fact was that fucking her brains out had made the cells rub together fiercely when her mind came back in.
“See how useful being bratty can be,” Rykard shouted over to the bedroom. A groan between pain and pleasure echoed beg. WIth a grin, Rykard sipped on his water. Neither of the twins could feel their legs this morning and he had decided to keep it that way for as long as possible. He had even forbidden them from healing themselves.
A proper bit of punishment for the priestess and her snickering sister. Rykard assumed this would give him three days of quiet from Mena’s sassy side, four tops.
“Sir, what is our course of action?” Lyvia asked.
“A splendid question,” Rykard answered.
“Weren’t we going to go and recruit a bunch of burly buff doms so all of the cute monster girls outside can try to emute what we have?” Helenn chirped. “Oh, and the monster girls inside too!” She winked at a nearby servant.
“No idea on the burly and buff, but the doms are indeed in the pns,” Rykard answered. “What remains to be decided is where to go for that and what phrase to use. We have ready access to ships, so its not like we have to just use the nearest nd Hexagon. Plus, for once, I could have a military backing me up.”
“We are at your command, Sir. Your wish is my pleasure… but I am sure you remember that.”
Rykard chortled at her dry, sarcastic tone and gave her another smack. A round ass under his hand, a pair of fat tits around his cock, cold water, and an elven twins that couldn’t feel their legs - what else could a king ask for in his morning?
