Content warning: This novel contains strong non-con themes and themes of abuse, along with the misgendering of a transgender character, mentions of pregnancy and depictions of gender dysphoria.

Suddenly, the King’s attention seemed much less interrupted, and quite a tad interested, after asking his question.

Forrest gulped—though, he did not look away. “And, what if I am, my Lord?” He should not be one at this age, Forrest knew. Twenty human years were a much longer time for people of his kind. But Forrest had lived a life of isolation up until now.

Because nobody understood.

Nobody would ever bed him, as he wanted to be bed. At least, that is what the Halfling believed.

To Forrest’s mild bewilderment, Valerius released him. “What will happen, if I bed you?” he asked, with his back now turned to the Halfling’s gaze.

The King rested his elbows against his own knees, as he sat by the edge of his bed, Forrest remained quiet. “Are you deaf, Halfling?” Valerius raised his voice, banged his fist atop the hardened wood of the frame that kept his mattress in place. “I asked you a question!”

“My… apologies.” Forrest’s fingers curled into fists.

So far, Valerius had not caused Forrest to shed blood, however, the King’s sudden outburst served as a reminder to Forrest, to be wary of his own behaviour. After all, it was hard to tell, how far Valerius would take this—especially considering all the rumors based around his Majesty’s temper. “Pardon me, my Lord,” Forrest cleared his throat, then frowned. “But I do not quite understand the question, nor what it is, that you are implying.”

Valerius narrowed his eyes at Forrest. He grabbed the Halfling’s elbow, and spoke so close to him, that the heat of his breaths fell across Forrest’s lips. “If I were to put my cock inside you, Halfling, what would happen to me?” The King paused to tilt his head. His gaze did not leave Forrest’s—not even once. “Are you… safe? Or, would I come out a cursed man, out of such an encounter? I have heard the stories. Do not pretend to feign ignorance.”

“Y-your—” Cock?

His cock? Forrest gulped. Cold sweats slithered down his spine. He could not believe the fact that he was here, on the King’s bed and hearing such nonsense, when hours ago, he was still alone, hunting for various herbs and his village’s local fruit in the woods. “W-what—”

“Ah,” Valerius interrupted him. His grin widened across his face, as he looked down on Forrest’s frail figure. “But, of course,” he nodded, in a way that Forrest could only describe as filled with mockery. “You have not bedded anyone yet, have you? It makes sense”—the King chuckled—“that you would not know, what effects your body may have on human men.”

“I-I don’t…” Forrest’s head hung low. It took all he had to keep his lips sealed. To not disobey, or contradict Valerius’s words. He sewed his mouth shut by biting down—hard—against pink flesh, until he tasted iron; bled a darker shade of vermillion red, down his pale chin.

Valerius smiled as he reached out to brush the hair away from Forrest’s eyes. “Do not worry yourself, Halfling,” he said.

His palm lingered against the Halfling’s jaw.

For the first time since Forrest’s arrival, the King’s expression seemed genuine, kind—even if the words that followed after, were all but, of the gentle sort. “I will make sure that you are taken care of soon,” Valerius whispered, “so that I may bed you myself, before the Summer ends.”

The young King kissed Forrest once more, then told him, “I wonder, what you will look like”—his open palm wandered down to Forrest’s belly—“with my child in you.”