#maria the virgin witch

[dummy-dot-exe]

絵 by まち@mate_wm

[ladyloveandjustice]

I finished Maria the Virgin Witch, which is a solid anime with a fun main character that not only has witches (always a plus) but legitimately examines how bullshit enforced purity standards are and the harmfulness of fundamentalist Catholic dogma, but the most important thing about it (jk) is it gives one of the most impressive ladies-carrying dudes moments I've seen in a while- not only is he twice her size, he's wearing (partial) armor, AND she's carrying a bigass heavy looking solid gold (?) cross she just looted in one hand and not breaking a sweat..incredible. That's talent. Biggest twist in the anime. She deserves better than this garbage man she has to haul around.

[animebw]

...son of a BITCH, of course Maria the Virgin Witch was directed by the same guy who directed Code Geass. Absurd mishmash of campy/horny anime bullshit with deliriously ambitious sociopolitical storytelling? That's the Goro Taniguchi special!

[joyejoyu]

Gale the Virgin Witch!!

[thelynxnamedeco]

Today I have an interesting treat:

Maria the virgin witch, vol 1.

An interesting story about a witch in medieval times who is frustrated at the French and English fighting so she takes it upon herself to disrupt the "natural order" because war (at least in her back yard) is bad. She does this by summoning giant dragons and serpents and even uh.. summons her succubus and incubus to seduce the higher ups and convince em not to fight haha. It's an interesting tale and at the end of the first vol we see that the angels aren't too happy with her meddling and it appears god has put a lock on her, as long as you are a virgin you can continue to be a witch! Will she continue her love exploits with the Frenchman who woo'd her or will she stay true in her idealology of "war bad"?

I think this manga was cute, with some pretty interesting graphic shots of fighting and a few shadowy shots of lewd acts (idk if this would step over the guidelines from ecchi to hentai) but they are far n few between in the first vol. I do think I will continue this one down the road, it's got a very nice art style with it. I'll also say my version for some reason actually feels like paper instead of the plastic type you'd get from the higher ran manga like Naruto. I don't know why but I like it!

Good stuff, belongs on the shelf.

[popcorn-an-artist]

I wanted to watch a fun and funny anime and I choose this. Yeah was more serious compared to what I thought it will be like. However I loved the story.

[mindful-mango]

Maria and her familiars from Maria the Virgin Witch! Drawn in 2016, this was also my first attempt at digital coloring back in 2019. As with my other old art, I've gone back and tweaked it to my current standards. Also, this is a very good show!

[manga-vs-anime]

Maria the Virgin Witch

[lirios26]

Coquette girl

[nootingextras]

Maria Icons

Thank you, Kitten, for the commission!

Series: Maria the Virgin Witch Count: 1,900 Type: 100 x 100, Base Icons NSFW?: Blood, Bruising Credit: Like or Reblog, Editing is allowed Link: OneDrive

Preview:

[misspjsuperior]

The symbol of the essence of creation, often expressed in the simple form of the vesica piscis. According to Christian legend God incarnate himself, like each of us, was born to die. And not of some vapor, not descended from the heavens fully formed, but of the flesh and blood of a human body as a helpless baby, an animal among other animals, apes that we are. There is magic in the mundane. There is a sanctity beyond the golden halls of the great papacy that cannot be tainted by the water, swear, blood, and shit of impoverished birth in the mud and straw of the barn. That which is deemed filthy is where the holy persists the most gloriously.

Maria Rosa

t shirt

illustrated and modeled here by PJ Superior

https://misspjsuperior.etsy.com/listing/1602708745

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Villains with Bad Arguments

Maria the Virgin Witch is at once as silly as and a lot deeper than its name would suggest.

Unfortunately one of the places where it tries to be deep is in various antagonistic forces telling Maria not to try and stop the prolonged, brutal war between the Franks and Britons using her magic.

There are decent reasons they could point to, and sometimes they do mention them in an offhand way, but the main arguments they offer are:

Angels: This is the way things are. You're upsetting the natural balance of things.

This one's called out in the show, as Maria points out that she is of the world, ergo shouldn't her actions be considered part of the world's natural order, and also wtf do they mean people dying of plague praying to a god who is definitely there but opts to do nothing about it is The Plan?

Priests, other Witches: You're never going to achieve your goal. You're wasting time you could be spending making money or getting knocked up. Also when you stop the battles the mercenaries get desperate and attack people which is totally your fault.

The first argument skirts close to reasonable - It's unlikely that a single person, even with Maria's bonkers magic, can end the war on her own - but it's also like telling a doctor they'll never eradicate all disease. Like, Fine, but meanwhile there's a disease in front of me and I can treat it, gtfo my way.

Forest Spirit/The Devil?: This entity takes the opposite tack to the priests, which I guess is fitting. It says, "hey, if you succeed you'll be out of work."

This is frankly the stupidest of all the takes presented so far. One of my favorite comics back when I was in college had a therapist who said she wanted to build tools her patients could help themselves with so they didn't have to come back to her forever. Asked whether she was just putting herself out of work she replied that if it eventually meant the world didn't have anyone who needed a therapist anymore she'd go find a new job quite proudly.

You see what I mean? It's not that there aren't arguments to be made about the girl trying to use huge dragon summonings and explosions and walls of fire to stop a war with minimal violence. (At the least, people could redirect her toward things that would achieve what she claims to want more effectively.) Rather, it's that the arguments that are being made are boneheaded, often taking the tack that maybe war is better than no war, actually. Which is an utterly indefensible position, just on the face of it. Making the argument is functionally an immediate own-goal.

[ladyloveandjustice]

I do want to say that for Maria, just in case anyone's interested based on my description that, there are like, two or three attempted assault jokes in the early episodes, which (more detailed spoilers and discussion under the cut)

makes it weird to contrast how seriously it treats rape later on. I've never seen this addressed directly in any recommendations of the show I've read, so it's worth bringing up.

The main victim of the assault jokes was a young man who's literally an incubus (but weirdly, also Maria once, when the attempted rape toward her is treated seriously later on. She got to blow up her attacker though at least) so that double standard might have something to do with it, but yeah, it's not great! I'm too numb to anime to be bothered by it, since it wasn't nearly as graphic or drawn out as most other assault jokes I've seen , but it's definitely there and I could see it really bothering someone else. It doesn't destroy the show for me personally, but it's definitely worth noting. It seems like the early show wasn't entirely sure what tone it was going for.

[animebw]

So.

Maria the Virgin With is a lot.

Like, I knew going in with a title like that, this show was going to go some out-there places. But good fucking lord, I was not ready for just how far it was willing to commit. What could have just been a simple stupid horny anime premise instead says "Okay, but what if all this horny anime bullshit could be retrofitted into an exploration of Medieval Christian sexual politics?" And then it uses that as a springboard into an actual goddamn political war narrative that examines the cycles of violence that drive us into conflict in the first place, the hypocrisies and sins of organized religion, how faith and militarism are so often intertwined, the weaponization of female purity as a tool of political control and punishment, and specifically a rebuke of the Christian demand to deny yourself earthly pleasure and happiness and set all your sights on the next life while leaving the one you're currently living to wither and waste away. And all of it's wrapped in an unabashedly perverted package that ping-pongs from wretched rape jokes to actual explorations of sexuality, from fetishizing purity to sincere enjoyment of a sexual lifestyle, to one of the most genuinely horrifying scenes of sexual assault I've ever seen in fiction.

It's kind of amazing?

Like I said, it is a lot. It throws anything and everything it can at you, and if the sexual commentary rubs you the wrong way, I can't blame you. But it's just so audacious and committed to its course of action that I found myself getting utterly swept up in the journey. If you think you can stomach its rougher moments, then I can't recommend it enough. 7/10, what an exhilarating ride that was.

And now... I think it's time to dive back into idol hell.

See you soon, Nijisaki...

[abbyromanoff]

Can I please request intersex Maria Hill x shield agent!reader. Reader is like EXTREMELY pretty like goddess level pretty and practically everybody’s in love with/attracted to her. And she met Maria at one of Tony’s parties? Thanks in advance

HALLOWEEN NIGHT

PAIRINGS: kidnapper!Maria Hill x Barton!reader

WORD COUNT: 2747

WARNINGS: dark fic, Maria has a dick, kidnapping, R sleeping with Wanda and Nat, flirting, jealousy, pretty rushed ending tbh, smut, thigh fucking, belly bulges, daddy (M), breeding kink, virginity loss, parties, kinda fem!R but no pronouns are used, drugging, needles, age gap (legal), restraints, gags, cumming on R, petnames, Maria honestly can’t last long at all, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your foot tapped gently with the beat of the music, your drink in hand as you took occasional sips. You hummed at the taste, oblivious to the watching eyes surrounding you, Maria being one of them.

All throughout the night you’ve had people coming up to you, trying to find any excuse to talk to you or look at you up close. To them, it was like a fallen angel had walked through the doors and greeted them with your presence, you were that angel. Maria couldn’t help but agree with them, but it didn’t mean she liked it. She thought, no, she knew you belonged to her, she just wished you knew it too.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to my oldest, Y/N,” Clint spoke with a grin, allowing the spotlight to land on you as you shyly waved. Maria’s breath was practically shot out of her, her heart thumping quicker than ever.

“It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” Wanda shook your hand and gave you a small grin as she looked you up and down. Nat did the same as Wanda, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm before smirking. She sent the witch a knowing look and returned to her seat, patting the spot between the two, signaling for you to sit.

“And how come I’ve never met this one, huh, Clint?” He rolled his eyes at her antics, well aware of the thoughts hidden beneath layers of their head.

“They just moved back home after college, they’re a psych major.” They all nodded as your father boasted about you, Maria remained silent. She was eyeing you, but you didn’t look much into it. You feared she was doing so because she didn’t like you or was trying to profile you, but that was proven to be wrong the moment her voice came to surface.

“I’m Maria,” The sweetness shocked you, but you appreciated her willingness to let another into the bubble the team seemed to form.

“Hey, Maria, it’s nice to meet you.” You calmly retorted, giggling as you felt Nat’s fingers brushing over your soft skin. Your inner thigh was just barely showing under your dress, and they both used that to their advantage, most had throughout the night.

“You ticklish, dove?” You bit your lip to stop yourself, and Maria internally groaned at the sight. She wanted to tear that lip from beneath your teeth and bite it as she let her tongue explore your mouth.

“Just a little bit.” She chuckled, images flashing through her mind of you beneath her, biting that lip as you came around her fingers.

“Would you like a drink, Y/N?” The agent's voice boomed, bringing you out of your trance as you forced yourself to look around, noticing your father was no longer nearby. You didn’t expect him to watch you the whole night, but you didn’t expect him to leave and strike up conversations with others so quickly.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You mumbled, your nerves rising under her gaze. She gave a short nod before walking towards the bar, her eyes occasionally glancing your way.

“So, what do you say about coming with us? If you’d like to dance, we’d love to join you.” Wanda suggested, brushing her shoulder against yours with a knowing grin. Her hot breath fanned against you, leaving goosebumps to trail your skin.

“Oh, a-alright.” You didn’t expect so much attention, but you were happy they seemed to enjoy you.

“Good choice, dove. It’s alright if I call you that, right?” The blush on your face was all the answer she needed, but she still awaited your worded response.

“Yeah, I think it’s kind of cute, actually.” The two led you to the floor, Nat placing her hand on your bottom while Wanda’s grazed up against your lower back. She stood behind you, letting her body grind against yours while Nat stayed in your view. She smirked as your lips parted when feeling Wanda’s breasts pressing into you.

“Can we kiss you, dove?” You didn’t get to speak as Nat instantly pressed her lip into yours, Wanda’s landing on the soul of your neck as a moan threatened to leave you. Your hips involuntarily went with the witch's movements, resulting in a deep groan from the redhead.

“Fuck, such a good girl.” You gave in to their shared compliments, basking in the warmth they offered you. You forgot about the offered drink from earlier, causing Maria to scowl with displeasure when seeing where you stood. She didn’t understand why she felt so predatory over you, she just met you, after all, but there was something about you she had never seen before. Not only did your beauty outshine the room, but your heart was filled with a pureness she’d never expect someone your age to have. You were a college graduate, most students would be fucking their brains up with alcohol and drugs while they slept with anyone who offered themselves, but you were different.

“Why don’t we ditch this party, yeah? I can think of a few things we could do instead.” You gulped, suddenly aware of the proximity you lacked between the two.

“Oh, I- I don’t know.”

“C’mon, dove, it’s not like we’d ever hurt you. If you want to stay here like this then that’s more than fine, but we’d love to make you feel as good as you deserve.” Wanda snaked her hand over your front, placing it undeniably close to your breasts. You gasped, licking over your lips before sharing glances between the two.

“I’ve never, you know.” Her eyes widened slightly, but it was enough to cause your brain to spiral. You hoped she didn’t think wrongly of you now, especially not when you got so far with the two. You weren’t a kid anymore, you hoped she didn’t see you as such now.

“Mm, that’s alright, we’re not here to judge you, dove.” It was made clear they still wanted to continue, and you took that as the okay to move forward.

“Please take me upstairs, I want you both so bad.”

You woke up with a small headache as the sun blared through the windows, reminding you where you were. The two women were still sleeping next to you, their peaceful snores making you grin. You didn’t know what to do going forward, you just lost your virginity to two strangers at a party. Sure, they knew your father, but that only made it worse.

“Fuck,” You groaned out, trying your best not to wake both Wanda and Nat as you scooted out of the comfortable bed. You wished you could go back to bed, but you weren’t sure if they even wanted to see you in the morning. You gathered your small pile of clothes on the floor and loosely tossed them on before exiting quietly.

“Good morning, Y/N.” You jumped, turning to the voice and spotting a tired Maria with a cup of coffee in her hand.

“Jesus, you scared the fuck out of me!” You chuckled. “What, uhm, what are you doing up so early?” You leaned against the wall, brushing the strands of hair out of your face and remaining in a neutral stance.

“I could ask you the same, couldn’t I?” Her calmness sent shivers down your spine, but you didn’t know why.

“I think we both know the answer to that,” You noticed her jaw clench and her nostrils flare slightly, making you fear that you spoke wrong.

“Would you like some coffee? I think you’ll be needing the energy after last night.” Your cheeks brightened, a snort coming from your end as you followed her into the kitchen. The place was so large, you didn’t know how anyone got around.

“I suggest you change your clothes.”

“Oh, I didn’t bring a spare, I kind of expected to be going home after last night.” You wondered if your dad went back home without you or stayed, but you were kind of hoping he headed back so you wouldn’t be stuck with his questions on the ride home.

“You can pick some from my room, I don’t mind.” You felt bad for accepting the offer, until you realized it was that or walking around in high heels and a dress the rest of the day. You found her room with the help of a small direction from her and Jarvis, rummaging through her dresser the moment you found it. You took a minute to glance around her room, the soft yet blank aroma causing your curiosity to grow. You had the clothes in hand, but you wanted to see more. Maria gave off such a tough, cold exterior, you wanted to know what was behind that.

Her bedsheets were perfectly set, not a wrinkle in sight. Her pillows were perfectly aligned and her bedside tables were close to empty, only sporting a lamp on one and a book on the other. There wasn’t even an alarm clock, how did she wake up so early? Maybe it was nightmares, but there was no way she could remain so relaxed and calm if she experienced such on a daily.

You felt the urge to go to the bathroom settling in and assumed she wouldn’t mind you using hers, seeing as she was allowing you to borrow her clothes. What you didn’t expect to see was a knife in the sink, hints of red still covering it. You gasped, only to feel a body behind yours and a hand coming to your mouth.

“You shouldn’t have gone in here, pretty girl.” You tried screaming beneath the coverage but only managed to release a weak whimper as your eyes started growing heavier. You looked down, noticing a needle drawing out of your waist before you fell limp in her hold, unable to fight her off like your thoughts screamed at you to do.

“Perfect, you’re awake.” Came the same voice from earlier, leading you to look around and take in the surroundings. You laid on a bed, it wasn’t as comfy as Nat and Wanda’s but it wasn’t as bad as the one you spent your college years on. Your mouth was still covered by a gag, your legs and hands tied as you tried to wiggle away from her. She stood in your sight now, her shirt gone as her abs shined under the dim lighting. Her left side was patched up, and you were able to get a closer look as she climbed on top of you. Her hands came to your chin, bringing your eyes in line with hers while she smirked.

“I’m going to remove this now, but if you scream, cry, yell, anything, I won’t hesitate to cut your fucking tongue out, got it?” She all but growled, causing tears to rim your eyelids. You nodded nonetheless, taking multiple deep breaths when she did as promised.

“How’d you get that?” You asked after moments of silence, your voice so silent it was practically a whisper.

“Don’t worry about it, alright? All I want you to do is sit there and look perfect for me, you don’t need to think.” You complied, your eyes fluttering as her camera’s flash shocked you. She let the polaroids dry before taking a few more, smiling as she admired each one. She licked her lips, cupping her semi-hard cock with a groan.

“Fuck, you have no idea how badly I need you.” She unbuttoned her pants slowly while stalking towards you, lowering her undergarments before stroking her length, chuckling darkly as you shuttered, your thighs instinctively clenching.

“Don’t move a single fucking muscle, I want to see how wet and needy you get for me.” You bit your lip, a desperate attempt to calm your nerves that rose.

“Are- are you going to put that in me?” You eyed her crotch, taking in every vein that pulsed.

“Mhm, and you’re going to take every last inch, Princess.” Your legs were lifted into the air, the rope forcing them to stay bound together as she put them over her shoulder. A slap came to your ass, causing your body to jolt as you cried out.

“God, I love it when you cry.” A moan found its way past her lips when her length came in contact with your plush thighs, her tip sneaking past the skin as you spotted the pre-cum drooling onto your waist.

“Fuck, please, Daddy!” You regretted the words the moment they left your lips, but your desire seemed to overpower you. She stilled, and you could hear every breath she panted.

“My beautiful baby, my angel…no one else gets to see you like this, yeah? Only me? Mhm, good. Let’s see what other pretty sounds you can make, Princess.” She looked back on the night before, the sight of Nat kissing your sweet lips while Wanda marked your neck only fueling her anger. Seeing them lead you to their room made her want to do things she could never repeat, but now that she had you in her hold, you were safe from everything and everyone else, she convinced herself. It wasn’t your fault you were so lustful, anyone who saw you instantly fell to their knees, begging to even hear your voice. But no one got to see you the way she did, and she’d make sure the two Avengers never got to see you again.

“I’m so close, can’t wait to paint your body with my fucking cum.” Spurts of hot liquid shot onto you, Maria’s head being thrown back while you took in the sight. She had never cum so quickly, whatever you were doing to her was something she couldn’t control, and she wasn’t displeased.

You felt the restraints around your legs loosen before they fell onto the bed, Maria instantly grasping onto them and putting one on either side of her body. She rubbed her cock against your folds, lips parting as your hips thrusted with each movement. Your clit throbbed in delight before she allowed her length to tease the bud, relishing in your sounds of pleasure that were meant only for her.

“Eyes on me,” She demanded when seeing your eyes fall shut, a gulp of fear traveling through your throat. “No, I don’t care if you’re scared, you’ll keep those eyes on me, got that? I want to see the very second I break you, my sweet doll.” She stroked your cheek, her gaze stuck on your cunt that slowly accepted her tip.

“Ah- it’s so much, Daddy! I- I don’t think I can take all- all of it.” You sniffled, hands struggling against the restraints as you tried to play with your pleading nipples that hardened in the cold.

“I want to see how much you can take, impress me, Princess.” You mewled out pleas. “I don’t care if it hurts, you’re here to please me, I could care less if you get off or not.” She pressed her palm against the bulge on your stomach, your sounds bringing shots of heat to her body. She could feel her coil's tightness returning, bringing a small gasp from her end.

“Oh- fuck! I- I’m close again, baby, I’m gonna cum inside you so fucking much!” Her thrusts became animalistic, her grunts causing your brain to fog. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mind going hazy as drool threatened to dribble onto your chin. She was now completely inside of you, causing clapping sounds to elicit throughout the room with each moving of her hips.

“You wanna carry Daddy’s babies, sweetheart? Yeah, you want me to knock you up?” You nodded, unable to comprehend the words she spoke.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- I’m cumming! Mhm, take all of it! Going to get this greedy little cunt filled to the brim with my fucking cum.” Her lips found your neck in a hurry, desperate to replace your previous marks with ones of her own. You felt spurts of her seed shooting into you, her thrusts becoming slower and sloppier the longer she stalled inside of you. Your warm walls were clenching onto her, gripping for dear life in ways no one has. No one has brought as deep of pleasure as you have, proving her point as to you being the best target she could equip.

“I’m never letting you go, baby, you’re mine now.” But the truth was, you didn’t mind.

[topguncortez]

Court of Thieves | | Chapter 5

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: The realm prepares to say goodbye to the King. Jake has his first council meeting. Questions arise about Lady Mitchell and her relationship with Sir Bradshaw.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: historical inaccuracies, era-related misogyny, mentions of murder, virginity, mentions of assault, pregnancy, religion, witchcraft, mentions of child death, violence

The Abbey was one of the oldest buildings in all of Brinefell. The gorgeous stone building stood tall and daunting, with stained glass windows depicting the story of The Stations of the Cross. As a kid, Jake loved spending his days in the Abbey, running through the sanctuary, playing hide'n'seek in the garden, sneaking in to watch choir practices, and staring at the painted windows when he should’ve been paying attention to the Cardinal.

 But over time, the Abbey became a place he avoided. His relationship with God started to fall apart when he watched his mother grieve his baby brother. An innocent baby, whose life was only a mere weeks old, and God decided he needed to die. Jake had watched good men die on the battlefield and the villains who slain them get away. He didn’t understand how God let innocent men and babies die, while the real enemies still scoured the Earth. 

But Jake knew that his grandmother had an excellent relationship with God, or so she said. She had devoted herself to serving God and his “anointed king” of Brinefell since she was a child. She had always trusted that God had a plan, and who was she to disrupt it. But also, who was she to let the plan fall by the wayside. Queen Maria would do whatever she had to to make sure God’s plan was carried out the way it was meant to. 

The sound of Jake’s footsteps on the marble floor interrupted the Latin words that fell from Queen Maria’s lips. She sustained rolling her eyes as her grandson knelt beside her, doing the sign of the cross. Jake didn’t say anything as he knelt there with his hands clasped and his head bowed. The Dowager ignored his presence the best she could, continuing to run her hands over her rosary beads, and recite “Ave Maria” and “Pater Noster”. But the occasional huff or sigh out of her grandson drove her attention elsewhere. 

“Are you going to say something-” 

“Shh, Lady Grandmother,” Jake spoke, keeping his eyes shut, “I am praying.” 

The Dowager couldn’t help but roll eyes. She rested back on her heels, Jake doing the same as they both said the Sign of The Cross in perfect Latin before standing up. Jake offered her his arm as he led her out of the Abbey. 

“I do hope you found sleep, Lady Grandmother,” Jake said as they walked into the vestibule of the Abbey. 

The Dowager scoffed, “I would’ve found it better if that witch-” 

“Future Queen of Brinefell.”

The Dowager stopped in her tracks, forcing Jake to look at her. She was no taller than five foot, but her presence was enough to make grown men shake in their boots. Jake had seen the nice old lady that he called ‘grandmother’ and he had also seen the lady that they call “Queen”. 

“That girl will bring nothing but sorrow and death to this realm. Her mother tried to overtake the throne from my son with her bastard boy, claiming he was my husband’s kin.” 

“What?” Jake asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

The Dowager sighed, pulling her hand away from Jake’s arm, and walked down the hallway, fiddling her rings. She had sworn she’d never talk of it. It had been an awful time in her marriage to the late King Benjamin. A war, a plague, a scandal, rebels rising up to try and usurp her husband and kill her children. The Dowager had done all she could to try and push those dark days away. Between praying and going to confession, those memories still haunted her mind. 

Turning to face her grandson, the Dowager sighed deeply, “The girl’s mother claimed that she. . .” She stopped, shaking her head, and regaining her posture, “King Benjamin had taken a mistress, and it was the girl’s mother. It was an awful time in our history and your grandfather was weak, and that witch seduced him.” Her footsteps echoed as she walked back down the corridor to stand in front of Jake, “She tried to place the bastard boy ahead of my own son, ahead of you. It was witchcraft that got her daughter here and it will be witchcraft that kills your bloodline.” 

Jake looked down at his boots, his jaw clenched. He knew that his grandfather had mistresses, but he never knew of a secret son. Jake knew of what happened to kings with potential usurpers out there. He heard of what happened to King Richard in England. It sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Where is he?” Jake asked, “Where is this boy?” 

The Dowager swallowed, adjusting her position, “Dead. But you mustn’t let that girl-” 

Jake raised his hand, silencing her words, “I believe her word. I believe her when she says she is untouched. I believe her when she says she is a follower of the word of God. I believe her when she says she has no idea about this supposed curse and witchery.”

The Dowager huffed and turned back to the doors of the Abbey, “I pray you are no fool like your grandfather.” 

Jake watched as she walked back into the Abbey, his mind running with the new information. It wasn’t uncommon to hear stories of women who claimed they had the craft. Jake had been witness to great stories told around fires by women half-dressed with gold necklaces and bracelets covering their bodies. They always said that they could provide the soldiers good luck before their battles, but the only thing Jake had seen them provide was a nasty case of syphilis or the occasional bastard child. 

But one thing did stick in Jake’s mind. The same memory that had been dancing in his head as he pleasured himself at night. The look and feel of you in that pink nightgown as you stood in his rooms. The way your breasts strained against the sheer fabric, your nipples hard and pink like rose buds. How soft and sweet your skin felt under his touch. It was like he was in a trance that night, and how easily he would’ve succumbed to it if you hadn’t been so frightened. He felt awful after he came to the thought of you, knowing that you would’ve cast your virtue away to please him. 

“Dear God. . . tell me I’m making the right choice,” Jake muttered, looking up at the painted ceilings of the church. 

— — — 

You could remember your mother’s funeral like it was yesterday. 

You could remember that the sun did not shine once. It was a dreary, miserable gray day. It was abnormal for that time of year in Brinefell, but you felt as though it was fitting for a day of a funeral. 

You could remember how uncomfortable you felt in your dress. You had lost weight from not eating, and your dress that you had tucked away for other funerals had become too big. There was no time to have it altered, so your matron pulled your corset tighter than normal. It dug into you as you sat in the church pew for hours during the service. That was another thing you remembered, was how sore your bottom and knees felt from sitting and kneeling. 

You could remember talking to so many people but not remembering a single one of their faces. Your cheeks hurt from fake smiling and accepting condolences from people you would never see again until maybe your father’s funeral. Between Bradley and your sister, you were served enough wine to keep you loose and from crying. Your body felt so heavy and tired from the hours you spent crying in your mother’s rooms. The wine made your head swim and Bradley had to carry you to bed. 

You wished that today felt different. But a funeral was a funeral. And it didn’t matter who it was for. Your ladies were running around your rooms, helping you get dressed in that same black dress you had worn years ago. It fit a little better now, you had put some weight back on, but it still felt uncomfortable to wear. 

Once you were dressed, and the veil had been situated over your face, you walked with your ladies out to the front of the castle. Various noblemen, wives, lords, and ladies were gathered in their finest black clothes. A horse-drawn carriage, with four white horses with black cloaks and gold armor, was stationed in front, waiting for the King’s coffin to be placed on it. This funeral was certainly more lavish than your mother’s, but it was one fit for a King. 

The moment that the Queen walked out, it was as if all the oxygen in the atmosphere had been sucked away. Elizabeth kept her head held high as she walked by the crowd, her face covered in a beautiful black lace veil, and a gold crown sitting on her head. Her daughters trailed behind her, wearing similar black dresses with gold trim. It made your heart swell knowing that the Queen was surrounded by her children. You could remember how much your father had relied on you, Allison, and Bradley during those first couple months without your mother. 

“Where is Lady Mitchell?” The Queen asked aloud. You felt all eyes go to you instantly and you wanted to hide. You had planned on sticking to the back, staying clear, and letting the royals mourn with each other. 

You gulped and stepped through the crowd, curtsying to the Queen, “I am here, Your Majesty.” 

“Come here, child,” The Queen gestured and you followed so dutifully. You went to stand on the other side of Jane, the Queen’s eldest daughter, but Jane gently stepped to the side. 

You gave her a look but she simply nodded her head to the Queen, “Queen’s orders.” 

You licked your lips and stood in Jane’s spot, on the right side of the Queen. You stood there for a moment, watching as the noblemen and lords gossiped amongst themselves, their eyes still on you. 

“My Queen,” You whispered to Elizabeth, “Shouldn’t I be on the-” 

“You are the Queen now,” Queen Elizabeth said, looking up at you through her veil, “My power is gone, and I simply have a title.” You nodded as the King’s guard stepped out of the castle. 

Jake stood at the front of the King’s coffin, dressed in his finest black clothing with a black crown on his head. His nose and eyes looked red as he led the guard and the coffin towards the carriage. A small sob escaped out of Jane’s mouth, and you grabbed her hand, squeezing it. Jake’s face was stoic as he stood to the side, watching as his father’s coffin was loaded onto the carriage. You wished you could go and hug him, to comfort him. You hadn’t even seen him since you ran after meeting the Dowager. 

When the King’s body was loaded, Jake nodded toward the riders at the beginning of the procession, giving them the all-clear to start the journey to the Abbey. You, the Queen, and her daughters fell in line after Jake and the King’s guard. The Dowager was riding in another carriage with the King’s brother and his wife. The moment the procession was outside the palace gates, your eyes widened. The streets were lined with mourners, some of them crying, some of them throwing flowers, some of them standing in awe at the sight in front of them. 

“God save you, Prince Jacob!” 

“God save the King!” 

Mourners yelled as you passed by them. Many of them curtsied to the Queen and cast their condolences, but she never turned her head to look. Queen Elizabeth kept her eyes straight on the wooden box that held her dead husband. You admired the Queen’s strength as you were yet to see her shed a tear. 

The church service was long, even longer than your mother’s had been. The church choir sang several hymns, and several different cardinals read scripture passages. You had been sat next to Jake, who sat at the end of the pew. It felt wrong to you, it felt weird as though the Queen should be next to her son. You kept stealing glances at the pew behind you, where the Queen sat with her daughter. She leaned her head on her daughter’s shoulder, her eyes red with unshed tears. You refrained from reaching over and grabbing Jake’s hands as you sat and listened to scripture. 

“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti,” The Cardinal said as the King’s guard raised the coffin for its final procession to the final resting place, “Amen.” 

“Amen,” The crowd responded. 

Jake waited, watching as his father’s body passed by him. His green eyes were locked on the large statue of Jesus on the Cross in front of him. You looked around, noticing that no one was moving, everyone waiting with anticipation. 

“Your majesty,” You whispered. Jake looked down at you, and you nodded your head towards the King’s guard. 

Jake looked over his shoulder, “Mother.” 

Queen Elizabeth gave her son a sad smile, “The King walks first.” 

Jake gulped and nodded. He stepped out of the pew, turning to face the back of the Abbey. He held his arm out for you to take. You wrapped your hand around Jake’s bicep, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he led you down the aisle towards the back of the church. 

— — — 

Three days after King George had been laid to rest, the castle had turned over from their period of mourning to a time of celebrating. The black curtains had been lifted off the windows, letting the sunshine through. The paintings had been uncovered. The lords and ladies had changed out of their black clothing and back into colorful clothing. The word had spread that preparations for the royal wedding could begin. You felt a sort of giddiness as you sat through dress fittings and picked out things such as flowers and gold plates for the wedding. Jake had placed all preparations in your hands, which was both a blessing and a curse at the same time. 

“My Lady, can you move slightly to your left,” Hans Holbein said. Hans Holbein the Younger is one of the greatest portraitists of the current century. You had seen his paintings of your cousins in England, the princesses in Spain, and the nobles in Germany. To have a portrait done by Holbein was of the utmost honor. This was why you nearly had a heart attack when Clara woke you up this morning and told you to get ready for your wedding portrait with the one and only Hans Holbein. You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting still in the heavy white dress and crown that had traveled all the way from Scotland. 

“It is quite the skill you have, Master Holbein,” You said, “I have seen your portraits before.” 

“Thank you, My Lady,” Hans said, “God gifted me with this talent and I mustn’t waste it.” 

You smiled, running your fingers over the gold lion that was stitched into the dress, a subtle nod toward the Seresin family crest. There were also blooming lilies on the skirt, a symbol of your own house. 

“Isn’t this a sight to see,” A voice called out to you. You lifted your head slightly, seeing a smiling Bradley standing in the doorway, “I didn’t know you could clean yourself up so well.” 

You blushed. It had been a couple of days since you had seen Bradley. Bradley handled funerals about as well as you did, and decided to go back home to be with your father during the King’s funeral. It hurt to not have your best friend around during that time, having no one to confide in after The Dowager’s accusations. You glanced over to Master Holbein, who looked between you and Bradley. 

“You can take a break, my Lady,” Hans said, “A short one, please.” 

“Thank you,” You said standing up. Bradley walked over to the platform you were standing on, offering you a hand. The dress was almost as heavy to walk in as it was to sit in. The crown felt even heavier as you walked down the steps, keeping your head up. Bradley led you to the table full of cheeses, meats, and fruits, in the back of the room that had been a gift from Queen Elizabeth. You had hardly seen her since the day of the funeral, but she had showered you with gifts such as a new prayer book, new shoes, and jewelry. 

“You really look good, Ducky,” Bradley said sincerely. You nodded, grabbing the vase of wine and pouring yourself a glass, “I’m sorry that I-” 

“Did you know what happened to my mother?” You asked, turning towards him. 

Bradley sighed, running a hand over his face. He had heard a rumor about what was said to you when the Dowager arrived, “My mother used to tell me a story of witchcraft and a lost prince,” He shrugged, “I always thought it was a way for her to get me to say my prayers.”

You nodded, taking a gulp of wine. Your mother and Bradley’s mother, Carole had been close as girls. They had plans of marrying nobles at court and raising their children together. When your mother had fallen pregnant with the King’s bastard, everything had changed between her and Carole. Carole didn’t see your mother as the same girl who was her best friend growing up. Instead, she saw her as a temptress, a liar. It was on her deathbed, that Carole had begged for your mother to be there. Your mother held Carole’s hand as she apologized for abandoning her, and begged her to look after Bradley. 

“Do you believe in the story? Of the Lost Prince?” You asked. 

Bradley shrugged, “I don’t know. It could be true, but it could also be just a scary story to trick kids into behaving.” 

“I wrote to my sister,” You said, reaching for a piece of cheese. 

Bradley furrowed his eyebrows. Sure, Allison was your older sister, but your relationship with her was strained, “Is that a good idea? Given her. . . history?” 

You gave Bradley a sad smile, “I’m not sure if anything is a good idea anymore.” You looked down at your dress. It was the most elegant thing you had ever worn in your life. It gave you a sort of imposter syndrome as you wore it, “I’m surprised this crown doesn’t weigh more.” 

“It’s not the imperial crown,” Bradley said, popping a grape into his mouth, “I heard that one is a real pain in the bollocks.” 

You laughed loudly, reaching for another grape. Bradley helped you walk back up to the platform to finish your portrait. Bradley made himself comfortable off to the side with a plate of snacks and told you about his trip back home. Your father was doing alright and was looking forward to coming to the wedding. Mistress Rotchford was still walking around the palace as though she had a stick up her ass. Your beloved wolfhound, Tidus, had found a new home on your bed and in your closet. You made a note to write your father and ask if he can bring Tidus with him. You weren’t sure if Jake would like a dog in the castle, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Tidus would come first in your mind, always. 

“Your father still thinks he can out-hunt me,” Bradley laughed, “The old bastard didn’t even get-” 

“Your majesty!” You stood up quickly, nearly knocking the crown off your head as Queen Elizabeth stepped into the grand hall. Bradley and Hans quickly stood up, bowing to her as she walked towards you. She was still dressed in black, and you weren’t sure if she would ever change out of it. 

“No need to bow to me,” Queen Elizabeth greeted with a simple nod of her head. She stood in front of you, her eyes looking glassy, “I knew that crown would look perfect on you. It was a gift from my mother when I had my wedding portrait done.” 

“Thank you, My-Lady-the-King’s mother,” You grabbed the sides of your dress to curtsey, but the Queen held her hand up. 

“It’s a hard habit to break,” The Queen smiled, and curtsied to you, before turning on her heel and walking out of the room. 

Bradley couldn’t help but beam at you with pride, as you sat back down on the chair to finish the portrait. 

— — — 

“The first order of business,” Mister Brooke said as he stood at the table, “Is a congratulations to our crowned King, Prince Jacob.” 

Jake gave a simple nod of his head as the council of his advisors congratulated him on achieving his birthright. It felt weird for Jake to sit at the head of the table, his late grandfather’s crown sitting upon his head. He had sat in on council meetings when his father was in this position, now he wished he would’ve paid a little bit more attention. But he felt as though he was in good hands with Lord Floyd and Mister Brooke by his side. 

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Jake said, “As this is the first council since my late father’s death, I want to keep things simple. The country is still in a state of mourning as we work to change everything over,” He took a seat in his chair, “I want an update on Argerus and Eastland. Sir Fitch?” 

Sir Fitch bowed his head, “Argerus seems to be holding steady, not backing down but not pushing forward. I have correspondents still out on the field. Eastland, however, they are beginning to grow restless and there’s a rumor of plague. Some say it is the sweat.”

Jake cursed, “Send a rider to Eastland, take with them gold and bread. I want to try and contain this plague as best as we can. If this is the sweat. . . it could tear this country apart as it did for my cousin in England.” 

“If I may,” Master Moore spoke, and Jake had to refrain from rolling his eyes, “I do not think tis’ smart to send a rider to Eastland. They are poor and decrepit as it is. What good will gold and-” 

“It will keep them at bay,” Jake answered, “It will keep them from rising up and trying to rebel.” 

“They wouldn’t have a need to rebel if-” 

“I do wish to save you your breath, Master Moore,” Jake said, folding his hands on the table, “It is said and done. Gold and bread will be taken to Eastland. Anything else?” 

The table was quiet for a moment before Master Moore stood up. 

“I know I am not the only one on the council who has… some concerns about the new reign,” This time Jake didn’t hold back from rolling his eyes, “The Prince is young and has spent most of his time out fighting or frolicking around. I think it is in our best interest to appoint a regent until the Prince has been crowned.” 

“And who do you think that should be, Master Moore?” Jake sneered. 

“I nominate myself, as the closest guard to the king,” Master Moore said, looking around at the council. 

Jake knew that this would happen. His father had spoken many times of his distrust for Master Moore. Moore had served on the King’s brother’s council and had only managed to keep his head by begging at the King’s foot. The King told Jake that he feared that Moore had a secret plan to try and overthrow him, or to find something to try and get him to lose his power. 

Calmly, Jake stood up, “I think, as the future King, I should be able to pick my own advisor. . . and I pick Lord Floyd.” 

“Me?” Lord Floyd said, looking up at Jake. 

“Of course,” Jake smiled, patting his friend on the back, “You served my father in Tournai, and you served me in Argerus. You stood by my father’s side when he was dying. You deserve this.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Lord Floyd bowed his head. 

Master Moore scoffed, “That’s just what we need, another boy at the hand of the throne.” 

“A boy I am not,” Jake sneers, “There is no one at this table my father entrusts more than the Lord Floyd, and I intend to honor that. And that is the end of that conversation. Next order.” 

Lord Floyd cleared his voice, “In the spirit of celebration for the upcoming marriage of our Prince Jacob and Lady Mitchell, I think it would be within good authority to consider adding Lord Bradshaw and Sir Mitchell to the council.” 

Jake hadn’t had much interaction with Bradley, but he didn’t like him. A couple of times Jake had ventured out to find you, he had always found Bradley by your side, making you laugh until you cried. It angered Jake how friendly and relaxed you seemed around Bradley, but around him, you were stiff and firm. As though you had to keep up the regal act around Jake. He hated it. 

“Can’t we just. . . send him a fruit basket?” Jake asked. 

Lord Floyd rolled his eyes, “Sir Mitchell was one of the King’s closest friends when he was a part of the King’s guard. He is an expert archer, a suave swordsman, not to mention the father of your bride. Lord Bradshaw fought in Tournai alongside your father as well. He’d be a great addition to the council.” 

Jake sighed, “Fine. Lord Bradshaw can be a proxy for Lord Fitch and the King’s guard. As for Sir Mitchell. . . we’ll give him the house in Magnus.” 

“I live in the house in-” Master Moore started to say. 

“It is settled,” Jake smiled. 

“I do propose we keep him away from Lady Mitchell,” Master Moore said, earning a glare from Jake. 

“For why?” He asked. 

Master Moore chuckled, “Well you do know the-” 

Jake slammed his hand on the table, standing up, “This council is supposed to advise the king on the well-being of his nation and the enemies that surround it. Not pick at my wife and tell me treasonous stories,” He looked at Master Moore, “There will be no more talks of my bride before she has even become my bride. Council is over.” 

Jake pushed away from the table quickly and left the room. Lord Floyd was quick to follow by his side, as the newly appointed advisor. Jake walked with haste to return to his chambers, anger flowing off of him. He was pissed that someone mentioned you. You had nothing to do with the court, at least not yet anyway. You, at least, still had some time to learn the ins and outs of what a queen was supposed to do at court, while Jake was thrown right to the wolves. It was times like these that he hated his father for leaving the world so early. 

“Your majesty,” His grandmother said as Jake turned the corner. She curtseyed to him as Jake stopped in his tracks. 

“Lady Grandmother,” Jake bowed his head. 

“You should be delighted to know I have chosen to stay.” 

“Stay?” 

“Here,” She smiled waving her hand and Jake felt his heart stop in his chest, “My son no longer sits on the throne and you will need someone who can be an advisor to you. I have stood next to three kings on the throne.”

Jake shook his head, “Lady Grandmother, I don’t need-” 

“It’s not up for argument, child,” The Dowager smiled, before curtsying and walking away. 

Jake clenched his jaw as hot anger flowed through his body. He was tired of being called a boy. He is the King. He is the closest thing to God on the Earth. He was not a boy who could be pushed around by Master Moore or his grandmother or anyone else. 

“Floyd,” Jake looked over his shoulder at his friend, “Tell my wife that I acquire her presence for dinner.” 

“Yes, your Majesty,” Lord Floyd bowed his head. 

“Privately.”

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