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His dreams were filled with an ever-changing series of images, from the prince fighting off warriors in the holy lands or boars in the forest, to more tender images of the man beside him in the bed, their arms and legs entwined. So it came as a bit of a surprise to hear the voice call to him as Freawine struggled up from his dreams. “Will you sleep the day away, girl?”
Freawine rubbed his eyes and moved to throw back the covers, stilling his hand as he realized he had grown stiff from his lascivious dreams. The prince did not seem to notice his anxiety. He paced around the room with an energetic stride.
“May I go home, Your Highness?” Freawine managed to stutter at last.
“Home?” The prince stared into the coals of the fireplace. “Are you so eager to return there? Miss your family?”
“There’s only my father and me,” Freawine answered, willing his erection to calm itself so he could rise.
“Your father who risks your life by making drunken boasts?”
Freawine flushed. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Doesn’t seem like much to miss.” He turned to regard Freawine. “What is your name?”
He nodded, as if it were the right answer somehow. “Well, Frea, I have an offer for you.”
Freawine studied him. Something about the man seemed different. He looked as if he’d slept badly. His hair stuck up in different directions, his beard seemed even more unruly.
“One more night.” The prince returned his stare.
Freawine winced. His erection disappeared.
“If you can spin all the straw into gold tonight, I have a special reward for you.” He turned and looked at Freawine like a fox eyeing a chicken. “I will make you my queen.”