Rykard awoke with something heavy on his chest. Something squishy, pliable, warm, and just all around wonderful - but heavy.

  He knew what it was before he took a handful and began kneading absent-mindedly. The vampire ying on his shoulder let out a half-moaned ugh. “Good morning, Rykard,” she purred.

  “That’s not how you wake me up,” the king responded, eyes still closed. It took a few seconds, but she eventually understood the implication and shuffled deeper under the sheets. Pure squishiness enveloped his morning wood. “Much better.”

  After that pleasure was taken care of, they left bed. Vyra guided him to a bathroom where runic enchantments heated a pool of water filled by a meltwater stream. Rykard remained in the pleasantly hot water for a long while, while Vyra only gave herself the basic rinsing before exiting again. She returned with a ptter of dried meats and a cup of honeyed wine.

  “I am eating quite a lot of these recently,” Rykard remarked, while chewing on the jerky. “Do you have nothing fresh in the house?”

  “As I do not require any traditional sustenance, stockpiling such things would be inevitably wasteful. The local stores only consist of enduring foods,” Vyra responded in an apologetic tone, offering the cup again.

  It was a tad early for wine, but Rykard didn’t care. Taking a sip, he let the heavy sweetness fill his mouth, harmonizing wonderfully with the salty taste of the dried meat. It was no fresh steak, but it was enough for breakfast. ‘Still, if I keep subsisting on field rations, I’ll go insane.’ “You don’t happen to be skilled at cooking, do you?” Vyra responded to the question with a wry smile. “I figured.”

  “Putting aside your jokes, I could easily enlist one of the townsfolk,” Vyra suggested.

  “What’s the point if my food doesn’t come from one of my dies?” Rykard disagreed, shaking his head. Teeth tore stringy meat apart, as he munched. “Still, we have to visit the city to inform them about the change in leadership.”

  “Indeed. May I suggest you leave the matter to me? I am their known governor.” Rykard just shrugged, it worked for him either way. “Important is the question of what you want my people to provide for you. To remind you, this fertile meadow has been kept clear for the purpose of your customization. I do recommend making use of the food supply though, at least as an immediate measure.”

  A good point, but it was his decision to make.

  “Let’s leave it to the people what to do with their nd. As long as they provide food for the rest of the realm, all will be well.” Rykard decided after not too much thought. He preferred resting his head in the cushioning cleavage of the vampire dy that now sat behind him. Vyra smiled down at him and ran her hand through his dark hair. “Can you travel by daylight?”

  “I… can…” Vyra responded reluctantly.

  “I’m not pressed for time,” Rykard assured her, reaching up to put a hand on her face. “It was a question of curiosity, not pressure. Does the sun hurt you?”

  “Books liken the effect of the sun on a pureblood to standing next to a bonfire for you humans. For a few seconds, the heat may even be pleasant, but soon the eyes begin to tear, lungs feel heavy from the thickness of the air, and the skin dries from the heat. Eventually, the epidermis begins to fke, sight begins to diminish… it takes hours to be lethal and avoiding direct exposure through clothes diminishes the effect greatly.” Vyra paused in her expnation for one moment, to embrace his head. Her forearms squished her tits together around his head.

  Rykard wondered if he would ever grow tired of those massive funbags. If he did, which was doubtful, he would find pleasure in other parts of her no doubt.

  “I would rather avoid the sun, if I can,” Vyra summarized.

  “Then we will,” Rykard responded simply. “We’ll wait until nightfall before moving to the city, then spend the day in the city until it is night beyond this Hexagon.”

  “Ah, that would be an effect that fades,” Vyra realized. “That will be bothersome…”

  “My estate has plenty of dark corners and more can doubtlessly be made in time,” Rykard assured her. “Still, you will likely have to travel one day under the sun.”

  “I shall pack accordingly.”

  ________________________________________________________________________

  A boat in a half-hidden alcove along the shore of the isnd gave them the means to set over to the other side. Unlike Rykard’s conjured creation, this one moved on its own. If it had been easier to transport, the king would have considered appropriating it permanently.

  During the voyage, he kept his eyes entirely on his second haremette. As with the previous one, her dress was bck, but this one covered her entirely in satin. A turtleneck enclosed her slender windpipe, long gloves continued where the sleeves of the dress ended, and the flowing skirt showed not a centimetre of pale skin. A closed parasol leaned against her shoulder, its shaft ivory white, the dense cloth deep purple.

  Covered as she was, it was impossible to make her body appear anything other than sexual. The tailored dress hugged the curve of her midriff and the rise of her breasts was as pronounced as ever. Sitting there, the shapely length of her thighs was hinted at beyond the apparent width of her hips.

  “I must say, I greatly enjoy learning what one can do with bindings,” Vyra purred.

  Rykard smiled a little, proud smile. The past couple of hours had not gone to waste. There was much to teach Vyra that she had only fantasized or read about before. It would be easier when she was around Miyo, because it gave her a thoroughly trained submissive to emute. As fellow dies, their styles of service would likely be simir.

  His smile soured a little, when he remembered that his seed had not taken. It was of no consequence in the long term, but it did put an end to his perfect little spree of seduction there. Understanding what he was thinking about, the vampire dy blinked at him flirtatiously. “I look forward to life with you, Master.”

  “Let’s hope I know well to measure time spent with you against time I have to spend on conquests,” Rykard responded half-jokingly.

  “Or that no Divine Gates interrupt our time,” Vyra added. “Albeit, our time together will be long beyond this. Your potential is… incredible.” Her pupils narrowed, as her sight focused on something other than his physical form. “Not even among my ancient kin have I ever met such energy bundled in a single man - and you assure me you are still growing…?”

  “How often will you ask that?” the king wondered with a smile.

  “Until I believe it, I reckon.” Pupils dited again. Widely, when she traced his jawline, to the point that there was more cutely reflecting bck than crimson to her eyes. Then her gaze snapped to something behind him. “We have arrived. May I ask that…?”

  Rykard didn’t wait for her to finish. Once the boat had pulled up to the pier, he was in immediate movement. He secured the vessel with thick ropes, then stepped out to offer his hand. “Come with me, my dy.”

  The emphasis on the possessive made the white-haired woman shiver. Under the light of the moon-sun, she took his hand and stepped onto the pier.

  A small crowd had already gathered by the city’s harbour. Much like the harbour was a modest thing of wooden piers and rowboats, so too was the settlement remarkable in its rural idyllicism. The houses were far apart, cobblestone roads connecting what few shops and socially important buildings there were, with dirt paths stretching between the rest. Each home was rge enough to house a family, surrounded by an orderly fence that encapsuted dozens of square metres of property. Sometimes there was nothing inside those fences, often times there were young livestock animals.

  Young animals that, despite their beady eyes and proportions, were the size of fully grown cows. Here and there, in the spaces between the properties, sheep the size of elephants were grazing, cutting the megaflora of the area down to reasonable size, while building up literal tons of meat.

  “Lady VanRaab!” One man, likely the mayor of the town, met the couple once they stepped onto solid ground. He was, as one could expect, a man of advanced age and of well-nourished physique. To call him fat would have been an insult to the broad shoulders years of farmwork had bestowed him. “I was considering sending a message but…” his eyes flickered over to Rykard for a moment, then to the hands that were still intertwined. “...I assumed you had things under control.”

  “You assume correctly, good man,” Vyra responded in her even, noble voice. It carried just far enough to let the entire crowd hear, without being so loud that it seemed like she was rudely talking to anyone but the mayor. “Our king had the wisdom to seek me out immediately and we have come to a swift and mutual understanding.”

  “I have taken her as mine,” Rykard decred casually, making Vyra giggle behind a raised hand. “She will return with me to my estate, bordering you in the south-west.” Rykard gestured in the general direction. White peaks were barely visible over the horizon.

  “Quite so, my Rykard has been thoroughly convincing in his case. I shall join him as his advisor and second woman.” The series of announcements had the people stunned, but not scandalized. Harems weren’t common in their world, as Rykard had learned, but neither were they unheard of - especially at the tiny size of two. Nobles taking courtesans was a practice among practically any culture he was aware of.

  “And… what will become of us?” the mayor asked, his attention shifting fully to Rykard for a moment. “As per the Decree of the Honour Across Worlds, I ask this with the greatest of respect, king Rykard. We loyal servants of the VanRaabs, who have the honour of inhabiting the Exile Hexagon, will follow your visions for this nd.”

  Rykard exchanged a gnce with Vyra, who moved herself into the proverbial background by taking hold of his arm with both of her own. Nuzzled against him, she lent her authority to all he said. “My voice isn’t needed after all,” she whispered, pleased.

  “Your nds will be yours to cultivate as you wish,” Rykard addressed the mayor and the crowd. “I have no greater design for this pce and the food that you produce will make you a valuable asset to my realm. I trust you as I trust Vyra’s council on the matter. You’re your own men and women to govern, as long as you join your prosperity with the rest of my realm.”

  “Thank you, king!” the mayor’s relief was palpable. Even if these people regarded being summoned into a new world as an honour, it could not have been easy to live with such uncertainty.

  “I will tell you, however, that I intend to create a realm of a particur character. One where great men can prove themselves to a variety of worthy women. One that might be more open about the erotic that you are accustomed to.” Rykard put his arm fully around Vyra’s back. Fingers sunk into pliable flesh, coaxing a little gasp from the vampire. If there had been any doubt about what kind of retionship their dy had entered into, it was now dispersed.

  Still, the belief in the VanRaab family went far.

  “We trust one advised by the immortal dynasty will make sound decisions,” the mayor stated with several nods. “We thoroughly thank you for taking the time to check up on us. Can we help you with anything else?”

  “Have a dinner readied, I wish to sample this meat of yours,” Rykard demanded with royal certainty. “I will eat in the town square. You have an hour.”

  All the mayor could do was nod, as Rykard strut forwards, newest conquest in arm. Vyra rewarded his confidence with kisses on his cheek. A useless stroking of his ego, he knew who he was anyhow. Soft lips could be enjoyed no matter the reason though.

  “Charming people,” Rykard said, when the passion of the caresses decreased. “I expected ghouls, if I am quite honest.”

  “My kin was ever careful not to spread our gift unnecessarily,” Vyra informed him. “Those that fell to the delight of feeding frenzies were executed swiftly. We do not want lesser vampires running around. They make matters complicated. We keep our subjects mortal and happy, the blood offerings voluntary.” She eyed his neck with a smidge of clear greed. “Difficult as that is at times.”

  “You want to feed off me?” Rykard asked. “Again, purely curious,” he assured her. The youth of their retionship was betrayed in how seriously she took his casual inquisitions at times. They would learn to read each other properly in due time.

  “I cannot help but wonder what your blood would taste like, considering… all else,” Vyra confessed, licking her lips at the memory of this morning. “Your seed is vital enough that I could survive on it alone, odd as that is for my kind.”

  “But you would appreciate a treat of your proper diet?” Rykard asked and she nodded.

  There was a chance that she’d attempt to turn him into a ghoul, a servant of hers bound by a small injection of her own blood. If that was her goal, she’d have tried before though. Requesting a rge dose of her blood was also an option, turning himself into a vampire, with all of its perks and drawbacks.