With every step he took down the marble floors of the royal palace, Sir Verian's full plate armor clanked and rattled loudly, echoing down the long corridors. He was still getting accustomed to wearing it again after spending so much time resting and recovering from his injuries, and he was wearing it to keep up appearances more than anything else. When you were going to stand before the King, protocol demanded that you live up to the idea of a knight in shining armor.

Even so, the red dragon was not wearing the light plates that normally protected his wings. Though he had finally healed enough to walk around and manage on his own, bandages and dressings still bound part of his right wing, just above where it joined to his back. Even a dragon could only withstand so much punishment.

Ahead of him, a page led him towards the throne room. The young fox boy kept glancing back to make sure Sir Verian was following, though the noise his armor was making ought to have been enough of a clue. The corridors were largely empty, but Sir Verian knew that that was because the guests and the guards were all assembled in the throne room to which he was headed.

One final turn brought them through an enormous open set of double doors and into the throne room. "Presenting, Sir Verian of Farmere!" the page declared upon entry, before Sir Verian had even turned the corner, silencing the murmur of conversation from within.

The polished marble floors had a long red carpet running from the entrance up to the dais upon which the throne stood. Masterfully sculpted columns and arches lined the sides of the room, and enormous stained glass windows behind the throne allowed light to filter in. Many lords and ladies, with their own servants and guards mixed in with the royal family's own, stood to the sides, numerous gazes all turning to him as he strode into the room and marched with purpose towards the throne.

The Dragon King himself sat upon the throne, crown upon his head, ermine robes around his shoulders, decked in the most exquisite finery in the country. Sir Verian had only seen portraits of him before, but he looked just as imposing in reality, the old white dragon possessing a stern, yet wise gaze. To his left, and Sir Verian's right, stood the Queen, dressed just as elegantly, in a dress that reached the floor.

But it was to the King's right where Sir Verian's gaze was drawn, the knight grateful that his face plate obscured his eyes from view. There, with a maid at her side, stood Princess Opal, who looked even more beautiful and stunning than she did before – in what had been both the first and last time he had come face-to-face with her. In contrast to the Queen's massive and billowing dress, the Princess wore something much simpler, though no less fine; a white silken dress that closely followed her body all the way down to her feet, with long sleeves, excess fabric hanging from her elbows down to her knees. The dress was trimmed with golden thread and she bore a necklace set with her namesake stones, and a small tiara on her head that rested between her horns. 

Her visible scales were smooth, cleaned up nicely after what had befallen her when Sir Verian first met her, returned to a lustrous and pearlescent sheen. Her long, soft, silvery hair had been carefully arranged so that while most of it fell down her back, one long lock on each side came down over the front of her shoulders, down to her belly. Her snout was on the short side and was smoothly rounded around the tip. He saw her brilliant blue eyes fixed on him as he approached, but she made no other outward sign of recognition. 

With his head held high, Sir Verian confidently closed the distance between him and the throne. As decorum required, he stopped a few feet from the dais, freeing his scabbard from his side with the sword still inside it. Resting the sheathed point on the ground, he held the sword by its handle in his left hand as the right reached up and removed the metal plate covering his face and the top and back of his head, revealing his short brown hair. From here, he got down onto one knee, head lowered respectfully. It was his first time before the King, but it was far from his first time in the presence of nobility, and he knew how to conduct himself.

"Rise, Sir Verian," the King declared loud enough for the whole room to hear in a deep baritone voice.

With permission granted, Sir Verian stood and looked up at the King, keeping his face plate held under one arm and the point of his sword on the ground. He could have put them back, but his current pose likely looked more impressive to the audience, and the occasion was all about putting on appearances. For that reason, Sir Verian made sure to keep his gaze fixed on the King, and avoided letting it drift towards Princess Opal.

Rising from the throne, the King drew himself up to his full height. "Sir Verian," he began his announcement, "Today I commend you for your service to the crown."

The King lifted his gaze to the rest of the room before continuing. "Over a moon ago, a cowardly man hired mercenaries to make an attempt upon the life of my daughter, Princess Opal. She was ambushed in her carriage on her way back from a visit to a potential suitor. The attackers did not attempt to capture her, for ransom was not their goal. They sought to end the line of the royal family that has endured for centuries! Her carriage was knocked over, and set on fire, and her fate was all but sealed."

The King's gaze swept around the room. "Yet my lovely daughter still stands here only due to the actions of the brave knight before me. Sir Verian happened upon the scene, and though outnumbered greatly, he rushed to the princess's aid. Armed with little more than his sword, shield, armor, and a great amount of courage, he cut a path to the carriage and pulled Princess Opal from it before she could suffer any serious injury. He guarded her with his life, and despite taking several wounds in the process, he kept her safe long enough for the royal guardsmen to regroup and drive off the attackers."

Sir Verian felt the weight of his monarch's gaze as it was turned to him directly. "You stand today in the presence of a hero! This brave knight faced down incredible odds and laughed in the face of death, because he had a duty, as all knights do, to serve and protect this great country and its rulers. Thanks to him, we have recently celebrated the death of a traitor, and not the loss of our princess. You have my eternal gratitude, Sir Verian. May the bards sing your name forever!"

The King raised his hand, and on that cue, the assembled audience applauded and cheered. Sir Verian stood in resolute silence, keeping up the appearance of a brave and infallible hero that the King had just painted him with. Some moments later, silence returned as the King lowered his arm, and turned towards Princess Opal, giving a small wave indicating her to come forward.

Delicately, she stepped down from the dais to stand a few feet away from Sir Verian. "Brave knight, no words can truly convey my gratitude," she told him in a voice that indicated she had rehearsed this speech. Not that he cared; her soft, gentle voice was music to his ears, and he would have been glad to hear it even if she had been cursing his name. "I thank you for saving my life despite the grievous wounds you suffered in the process. May fortune be with you in your travels."

Lukewarm applause came from nearby as she returned to her spot by the throne. It died down shortly thereafter, and the king drew a breath before speaking. "Sir Verian, in recognition of your heroic deed, I will grant you a request."

For the first time since he had entered the chamber, Sir Verian was able to speak. "What sort of request, my liege?" he inquired, knowing that there would of course be limits and conditions.

"Whatever your heart desires that I have the right and the power to grant," the King replied. Sir Verian knew how this went, but he had to follow through with the motions anyway, as protocol demanded. He couldn't ask for the throne, of course, for many reasons, not least of which is that it was inherited, and thus not the king's to grant. And he could not ask for Princess Opal's hand in marriage; a knight of some renown – more now, it seemed – and fine reputation though he was, the princess could only marry a noble, and Sir Verian had been born to a common home, only taken into the knighthood due to his skill with a blade and the connections of his father.

After a moment of silence as Sir Verian considered his words, the King offered some suggestions. "A knight like you no doubt requires an estate; I can grant you land or money. I could bring you into the royal guards, where your skill would be put to good use protecting the royal family again in the future. You may ask for a title, and the respect that comes with it. Or perhaps you could peruse the treasury and see if there is a sword that would be suited to your hands. The choice is yours, Sir Verian."

Sir Verian took a breath as he looked directly at the King. "Your highness," he said steadfastly, "I wish to spend the night with Princess Opal."

The effect of his words were immediate. After initial gasps of shock, the assembled court erupted instantly into scandalous whispers and speculation, filling the room with noise. Throughout it, Sir Verian stood unmoving, watching the King as the initial surprise wore off of him and he stood back up.

"Silence!" the King declared in a bellowing voice, quieting the court.

Immediately, he turned his head to stare directly at Sir Verian, one hand clenched. "Sir Verian, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded – with a tone indicating that a poor answer would come with dire consequences.

But Sir Verian was unfazed, still standing with one hand on the sword resting against the floor, with his face plate held under his other arm, unmoving like a rock amidst the ocean. "I believe the court has misunderstood me, your highness," Sir Verian declared, raising his voice to be sure he would be heard. "Perhaps they suspect the worst of me because of the depravity and corrupted desires of their own hearts, that they have placed upon me in an attempt to distance themselves from their own sinful thoughts."

He waited just a brief moment to give his words more impact before continuing. "My liege, the wonderful Princess Opal – long may she live – is without a doubt the finest, fairest and loveliest woman that I have ever met. I have no doubt that she is as intelligent and wise as she is beautiful. And yet despite this, all I have known of her is her darkest hour, her fine clothes singed by fire, her striking features dirtied by ash, begging for help and protection from those who wished her harm. I would regret it for the rest of my life if I did not take the chance to get to know the woman I saved, to converse with her and learn more of her, and see her at her best. And it would be a pity for her never to know anything more of the man who saved her life than his name. But I cannot stay at the palace forever. Therefore, your highness, I humbly request one night – just one single night – with which to enjoy the company of Princess Opal."

Looking back up at the king, he saw that his request was being considered. After a few moments of silence, Sir Verian spoke up once more. "Perhaps you share the concerns of the court. After all, a man is asking for time alone with your daughter, and you have every right to your caution. But..." he drew a breath, considering his words carefully. "...I assure you, my liege, that unlike those with whom we share this great hall, I would never even think of deflowering the crown princess. I guarantee she will remain in marriageable condition by the time I leave... since that is evidently what the court is most worried about."

There were more murmurs among the crowd, but they were kept low and quiet. Sir Verian said nothing else, allowing the King to consider.

"Sir Verian," the King said suddenly, "I will grant your request, on one condition."

Sir Verian inclined his head. "Of course, your highness."

"The word of a knight is his honor. Will you give me your word, and swear an oath of your good intentions?"

Sir Verian reached up and placed his face plate back upon his head to free up his right hand. Raising it, he crossed that arm across the front of his body, and got back down onto one knee, his left hand still gripping his sword tightly. "On my life, on my honor, and on all that there is to my name," Sir Verian vowed, "I do solemnly swear an oath to you, great King, that Princess Opal will still be a maiden tomorrow morning."

Satisfied, the king sat down upon his throne. "Rise, Sir Verian. I accept your oath. I invite you to join us for dinner tonight, after which you may visit my daughter."

"Thank you, your highness."

--------------------

Sir Verian had briefly retired to his lodgings after that in order to bathe before the evening's events, as well as to dress down. Plate mail was hardly the most comfortable thing to be in, and while he owed his life to it on many occasions, and it certainly made for an impressive appearance, he had no intention to wear it if it was not necessary. He returned to the castle for dinner wearing a leather vest with a shirt under it, and a pair of trousers, only putting on a white and black tabard for appearances' sake. After all, he couldn't simply strut around the royal palace in his normal clothing, hero or not. For the same reason, he brought his sword, intending for it to remain as an ornament and nothing more.

The feast was easily the best food he had ever tasted, but his thoughts lay on what came after. He stayed as long as was polite, grateful that his old master had taught him proper etiquette – even if it had come with lashings with a willow branch whenever he made a mistake. But at the first available and socially acceptable opportunity, he made his excuses and left, approaching a page and asking to be taken to the Princess's room. Evidently rumors spread fast, as the page already knew who he was and why his request was to be granted.

After a trip through the castle, much darker and quieter than before, he was shown to the Princess's chambers, where a pair of armored guards were waiting. With them was a green wingless drake in fine clothing that Sir Verian did not recognize, despite the distinctive pair of gold-rimmed spectacles perched on his snout.

"Sir Verian," the drake said simply as the knight approached.

"Good evening," Sir Verian responded formally. "You have me at a loss, good sir, for you know my name, but I do not know yours."

"I am the castle steward, Maldurey," the drake told him. "I have been ordered to let you in." His choice of words would have been enough to tell Sir Verian that the steward did not approve – the tone of voice he used and the look he gave the knight over the rim of his glasses made it blindingly obvious.

"You do not seem to like the idea," Sir Verian stated plainly.

"Of course I don't like the idea!" Maldurey hissed. "Your deeds may be noble but your blood certainly is not, and if left alone with the princess, I dare not guess what base and lecherous thoughts may cross your mind."

Sir Verian had heard far worse from far less important people, and didn't bat an eyelid. "You wound me, sir!" he protested. "I am very well aware of my station, and of my circumstances. I have sworn an oath; my head would be soon separated from my shoulders if I were to break it. I can assure you, I would not dare desecrate the womb of a princess with the unworthy seed of a commoner."

The two guards shifted slightly at the topic of conversation, and Maldurey glanced to the side briefly. "I am aware you have sworn an oath, but..."

"Good sir," Sir Verian interrupted, "I presume that the princess is, at this moment in time, still in possession of her maidenhood?"

The drake pursed his scaly lips for a moment. "Yes, of course. She is to be married to a suitable husband when one is found, and for a princess, only a virgin may be wed."

"Then," Sir Verian suggested, "why not simply examine her in the morning to check and make sure she is still a maiden?" Reaching to his side, he unbuckled his sword, and held it out in its sheath. "You may take this and return it to me in the morning – or put an end to me with it if I have broken my word. I will swear once again, on my life, my honor, and all that there is to my name, that I will not take her maidenhood from her."

Maldurey tapped his foot on the floor briefly before taking the sword with his left hand. "Very well," he said, digging into a pocket of his robes, "but if you break your word, I can promise your death will be neither as quick nor as merciful as you suspect."

"I have no intention to find out," Sir Verian replied calmly.

The steward fished out a key and unlocked the door, before stashing it once again. "I have other things to be doing. Good night, and I hope for your sake that the head maid's examination tomorrow morning does not find anything amiss."

"It won't," Sir Verian promised.

Turning on his heel, Maldurey spun and marched off, leaving Sir Verian alone with the two guards. Their outfits were clearly more ceremonial than anything else, with only light armor on underneath their tabards that bore the royal family's crest. Both carried spears from which hung banners with the same crest, and neither one was holding their spear in an appropriate stance. "Will you two be going?" he asked them firmly.

The two armored guards glanced at each other uncertainly. "But Sir Verian-" the one on the left began.

"I just made a promise upon which I staked my life, if you would recall," Sir Verian reminded them. "I would like to be able to converse in private without being eavesdropped upon. And besides, I'm sure you two have better things to do and places to be." He calmly reached for his coinpurse and offered a handful of golden coins to them.

Silence hung between them for a few moments, so Sir Verian tried something different. "You two are junior knights, are you not? You are no squires, but you have only been knighted recently."

"Yes, Sir," the one on the right muttered from under his helmet.

"I may be injured, but if it were to come to it, I could best both of you in combat, even without my sword," Sir Verian told them firmly, doing his best to give a firm glare as he straightened up. "If you are worried for the princess's safety, she will be safer with me in there than she would be without."

"Fine, fine," the left guard said suddenly, reaching out for the coins. "I heard you took on thirty mercenaries by yourself when you saved her."

"The tale has been exaggerated already," Sir Verian said cordially, "I'd say it was only about twenty."

He watched as the guard scooped up the coins into one hand, then waved for the other guard to follow him. They both left, and having finally secured some privacy, he pushed on the door handle and turned it.

The sound of her rapid footsteps away from the door did not escape his notice, but he opened the door regardless, stepping inside and pushing the door closed, locking with one quick turn of his wrist. Only then did he turn around and take proper a look at the room.

The polished marble floor reflected the candlelight from the candles on the walls, and the moonlight streaming in through the balcony windows. His attention was drawn to the four-poster bed at one side of the room where Princess Opal was sitting, trying her very best to make it look like she hadn't just rushed back there. She was wearing a much simpler white silk gown than what she had worn in court, one that was cut low in the back to give space for her wings, and her tiara and necklace were resting on a plaster bust nearby. The lack of jewelry did not diminish her natural beauty in the slightest.

Sir Verian bowed to her deeply, one hand behind his back and the other folded across his chest. "Good evening, Princess Opal," he said to her.

She looked at him with suspicion, but returned his greeting. "Good evening, Sir Knight," she replied. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is all mine, Princess," Sir Verian told her as he straightened back up. "I count myself as truly blessed and fortunate to be in your presence. I am pleased to hear your voice when it is not shouting desperately for help. Such panicked demands do not suit your gentle voice."

She shifted a little on the bed before standing up. "You are quite the flatterer, Sir Knight," she said cautiously, "but why did you send away the guards?"

He didn't even blink. "You were listening," he said, as a simple statement of fact and not as a question. "You are cunning as well as beautiful."

"You didn't answer my question, Sir Knight."

"I wished to be able to talk with you without being overheard, Princess," Sir Verian answered. "I did not want you to feel like you had to keep your words reserved due to outside listeners."

"If no one is listening, then will you answer my questions?" she demanded.

"Of course, Princess."

"Then, tell me," she began, "what were you talking with the steward about just outside? And in the audience chamber earlier?"

"You will have to narrow it down a little more than that, Princess," Sir Verian stated calmly.

"There was a lot of talk about... marriageable conditions, and maidenhood, and something about 'deflowering' me. I would have you explain what that all means."

"Ah." It had been a long time since Sir Verian had been taken off-guard, but her request did just that. He had to take a moment to compose himself, choosing his words delicately. "You have been looking for a suitor, yes?"

"My father has been looking for a suitor," she corrected him. "I will have little say in the matter."

He gave her a nod. "My apologies, Princess. Do you know of the conditions for being eligible to be married?"

She gave a sigh that indicated she knew all too well. "I must be of age, I must meet his approval, and my father must pay a dowry. And I must be a maiden, but I was born a woman, I can't exactly stop being one."

"That is... not what being a 'maiden' means, Princess," Sir Verian said delicately. "To be a maiden is to be a virgin."

"I don't know what that is, either. Tell me in plain terms."

There was no real way around it, so he steeled himself and simply forged ahead. "A maiden is a woman who has never had sex."

It was her turn to be taken off-guard, her bright blue eyes widening. "Oh. I see," she said at first, and then she blushed and turned her head away as she began connecting the dots. "So all those things you said..."

"...I was promising that I would not have sex with you, yes."

"And 'deflowering'...?"

"Is a metaphor for taking a woman's maidenhood."

There was an awkward silence between them. "And a womb..." he began, but she cut him off.

"Yes, yes, I know. I have been informed of my own anatomy by my tutor; I was simply unaware of the turns of speech you were using. My head maid has told me what is expected of me when I am married. My role in my husband's life, whoever he turns out to be, will be to bear him children, and to do so I must allow him to have sex with me." Sitting back down on the bed, she sighed. "It is the price I pay for being a princess: I am ultimately just here to be bartered for political power, and bred like livestock in the hopes of producing a son, like my mother before me, and any daughters of mine after me."

Sir Verian remained silent, and she looked up at him. "My apologies, Sir Knight. It seemed I assumed the worst about you, much like the others in the audience chamber today. Please, take a seat, so that we can talk more pleasantly."

There was an armchair near the window that faced the bed, so Sir Verian walked over to it and sat down. "May I ask some more questions, Sir Knight?" she asked when he had done so.

"Of course, Princess."

"If not for your vow, would you want to take my maidenhood?"

She was giving him a firm but curious look; having broached one taboo topic accidentally, she seemed eager to take the opportunity to learn more. He cleared his throat, taking a moment to very carefully choose his words, but ultimately realizing he had few good options to answer with. "That is an unfair question to ask, Princess. If I say no, you will think that I do not admire you, when I do. If I say yes, you will think I have the same sinful desires I accused the court of earlier."

"Sir Knight, I thought you dismissed the guards because you wanted us to be able to speak plainly. I can see in your eyes and have heard in your words what you think of my appearance; I am asking about something different. I want you to answer honestly."

He took a breath through his nose. "No, I would not want to take your maidenhood," he told her. "My oath may have been largely for show, but you are above my station, and it would be unthinkable for you to bear the child of a commoner." He did not add that he simply had no desire.

"I see," she said quietly. "Sir Knight, why did you rescue me?"

"A fair maiden was in danger. I came to help. Is that not what knights are supposed to do?" he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. "The tales the bards sing of us are greatly exaggerated, of course, and our lives are not all about flashing swords and shining armor. But our desires to see justice in the world and to protect the innocent from harm are genuine. I did not know you were the princess at first – I assumed you were a local noble's daughter. But I saw a carriage being attacked and knew I had to assist."

"But were you not afraid?"

"I was terrified, Princess," Sir Verian responded. "Even the most hardened soldier does not stop being afraid, he simply learns to overcome it in one way or another, and to not let it hold him back in the line of duty."

"I understand. I am very grateful to you," she told him, and a quick look into her eyes confirmed the truth behind her words. "It has been... occupying my thoughts greatly. To have faced such danger and only come away from it alive because of you. But... there is more."

He leaned forward a little in his chair. "Yes, Princess?"

"When you pulled me from the carriage..." she glanced to the side as she trailed off, her hands wringing slowly. "I was scared, of course. I had thought I was going to die. But then you reached in and called for me to take your hand. When I did, you pulled me out without much effort at all. You held me close, despite your armor. In that moment, I... I felt... strange. I don't know how to describe it. I had never felt that way before. But in that moment, I felt safe, and... I wanted to stay there, in your arms. To be carried away to safety."

She fell silent, and Sir Verian spoke up. "My apologies for having to hastily set you down in order to fight off the attackers. But now that we are in no danger, would you like me to hold you again, to see if you feel that same way?"

She took a moment to consider before nodding. "Please do. Maybe it will help me explain my feelings better."

Sir Verian stood and strode to the bed, taking a seat beside her. Slowly, so that he did not surprise her, he reached around with one arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, gently holding her against his side. Of her own volition, she leaned in closer, twisting her upper body to the side so that she could rest her head against his chest, putting one hand close to the shoulder further away from him.

He simply held her there, keeping his arm around her, listening to her soft breaths. With her head directly under his muzzle, he could smell the scent of flowers, no doubt from whatever she kept clean with. After another few moments, he felt her other arm reach around his back, as she hugged herself against him properly.

"I... I feel funny," she said a short time later. "All hot and flushed... I wonder if I am unwell."

Sir Verian looked down, and saw that she was slowly rubbing her legs together unconsciously. "I believe you are in good health, Princess," he told her quietly, "I think what you are feeling is arousal."

"Really? I... I have never felt this way before."

"What else do you feel?"

"I..." she faltered briefly. "I feel a desire... but I am not sure for what. But I want to be closer to you... I want to be held tighter, and... mm. Perhaps you are right. I know what arousal is, but did not know what it was like to experience."

"I believe so, Princess," he agreed. "Do you want me to let go of you now?"

A long and disappointed sigh came from her. "I suppose. After all, we cannot have sex, can we?"

Sir Verian took a breath. Now was the time. His carefully chosen words and specific promises had all been made in the hopes that this opportunity would present itself, and now, it had.

Lowering his voice to husky whisper, he told her, "But we can, Princess, and we will, should you be willing."

She gasped softly, pulling away from him and shuffling back a little bit. He released her as she moved, offering no resistance. "But Sir Knight, you swore a vow...!"

Putting his right hand in front of his chest, he bowed to her from his sitting position on the bed. "I promised, in many ways and many words, that I would not enter those soft netherlips of yours, which lie between your legs and are no doubt at least a little damp right now." She shifted in her seat, squeezing her legs together, telling him that he had guessed correctly. 

"You did."

"However," he continued with a small smirk, "I made no such vow about any other part of you..."

Shuffling closer to close the gap between them, he leaned in to kiss her, only to stop when he felt her hand on his chest pushing him back gently. Looking at her face, he saw her giving him a confused look. "What other parts, Sir Knight?"

He straightened back up. "Ah. It is quite simple... there are other ways to have sex, ways that will keep your maidenhood intact. Not every form of sex will rob you of it."

"Is that true?" she inquired, curious and clearly interested.

He nodded back to her. "It would be easier if I were to demonstrate; may I take the lead, Princess? You may ask me to stop at any time."

"Will these... other ways of having sex make me bear eggs?" she asked.

Sir Verian shook his head. "No. It is impossible."

She gave him a nod in return. "Then please, continue. I want to learn what you are going on about."

"Allow me to undress first," he told her. Rising to his feet, he strode over to the armchair, removed his boots, and then began neatly placing his clothing on the chair as he undressed. He started with the tabard, folding it quickly, before moving down to his vest and the shirt underneath that served as padding. Despite his composure, his heart pounded; he was casually undressing before the crown princess, and if anyone caught him, he would be unlikely to see another sunrise.

Sparing a glance at the princess, he saw her gazing at him with deep interest, and he turned to stand facing her while shirtless. "Is something the matter, your highness?"

"Oh, no. Far from it," she replied, blushing and fanning her face with one hand. "You are a strong warrior, and your muscles are very impressive. I have never seen a man like this before, and it is making me feel flustered."

He gave her a small chuckle as he raised his arms and flexed them, the flickering light from the candles on the walls dancing over his muscles. With some pride, he showed off his strong biceps, pecs, and abs, his chest covered by softer, smaller and paler red scales compared to the harder and darker ones that adorned the rest of his body. "It takes a great deal of strength to wear full plate, your highness, and even more to carry a sword and shield and use them effectively."

"So I see," she told him, her pure white cheeks flushed pink with blood. He could see her tail swishing behind her against the bedcovers as well. "Please, continue."

"Yes, princess," he replied as he reached for his trousers and began undoing the belt, sliding them off of his legs and stepping out of them so he could place them on the armchair. He was still clad in plain linen underpants, but that did not stop the princess from leaning forward in an attempt to get a better look at him, and the bulge in those linens. Turning to face her once more, their gazes met for a brief moment, a silent understanding passing between them before he lowered his underclothes as well.

Her gaze abruptly dropped to his loins, and Sir Verian couldn't help but smile; a princess of marriageable age she might be, but she was still a curious young woman experiencing something new for the first time, and something taboo at that. He obligingly stood facing her, only turning his upper body to toss his linens onto the armchair with the rest of his clothing, allowing her plenty of time to admire his fine-scaled ballsack and the flaccid shaft draped over it, his forescales covering the glans. He was quite large in both respects – many women across the country had attested to that before during his travels – but he had no idea if she was aware of how he compared to most men.

"My goodness," she muttered, stretching an arm out behind her to reach out for a small fan on her bedside table, unfolding it and fanning herself rapidly.

Striding towards the bed completely nude, Sir Verian stopped just a few feet away from her, her blue eyes remaining transfixed on his shaft the entire time. "Do you see something you like, princess?" he inquired with a slightly teasing tone of voice.

She finally managed to bring her gaze back up to his face, giving a small huff. "I am not a naïve country girl, Sir Knight," she chided him. "I know what I am looking at, it is just... different from an anatomical diagram in a dry page of text." As her gaze drifted back down his body, she murmured, "I have never seen someone's manhood like this, that's all."

"You may look all you like, princess," he told her, placing his hands on his hips and pushing them forward a little to better show off to her. "But you will need to undress as well at some point."

"Ah, yes, of course," she said as she stood up, still fanning herself as she rose but quickly folding and setting the fan down on the bed a moment later. Even before she began to unbutton the gown she wore, Sir Verian could feel his loins stirring just from the thought of seeing her naked body, and he watched as her delicate fingers pushed each button back through its hole on the silk garment. She did so very methodically and without any teasing, but to Sir Verian, it was still an enrapturing sight to behold.

When the last button was undone, she slid the garment off her shoulders and down her arms, allowing it to fall to the floor. It was Sir Verian's turn to draw a breath – even his active imagination could not prepare himself for the sight. Every inch of scale on her body was immaculate, the firm scales covering most of her body delicately polished and shining in the candlelight, the softer scales on her front supple and smooth. Her breasts were a reasonable handful, covered by a simple silken bra, with a matching garment preserving her decency between her legs. Her arms and legs were slender and smooth, and her figure was fine, thin but not unhealthily so.

Observing his reaction, she extended one hand and pointed to his loins with a single ivory-clawed digit. "Your reaction speaks for itself, Sir Knight," she observed with a small smirk.

He didn't need to look down to know that his shaft was as hard as a rock, throbbing with the desire for her that coursed through him, the tip of the glans peeking out from the forescales around it. He said nothing as she reached behind herself to unfasten her bra, and then slipped her smallclothes down her legs, keeping her gaze on his face the whole time. Despite her ignorance of what was to come, she was quite confident, and not the shy and meek woman he had been expecting.

He drew in a breath as he admired her body anew. Her nipples stood firm upon her breasts, small pink areolae amidst the white scales of her chest. Between her legs, little more than a break in her scales, was her slit; small, subtle, and completely off-limits to him.

But that wasn't the hole he was interested in to begin with.

"I am a truly fortunate man, your highness," he told her in a low voice as he admired her body, aware of her doing the same to him. "Never in my life have I seen a woman with beauty like yours. You are perfect in every way. Some small part of me is saddened to know that I will never see anyone fairer than the woman who stands before me now."

She gave a small chuckle, but her cheeks flushed anew under the praise. "You are good at flattery, Sir Knight," she remarked. "But even I know that an exchange of words is not sex. What are we supposed to do next?"

"Patience, princess, patience," he said while moving to the bed, taking a seat on the side and patting the covers to his left. "A little foreplay is customary."

She was quick to sit beside him. "And what is that, Sir Knight?" she asked.

"It is... warming up. Like an appetizer, if you want to think of it that way," he told her. Spreading his legs, his stiff shaft jutting up from his loins while his balls rested on the covers, he motioned towards himself. "Would you like to touch it?"

Quickly, but gingerly, she reached out with her right hand and held his shaft between her thumb and forefinger, closing her digits around it a moment later. Sir Verian drew a breath; her fingers were delicate and soft, and her grip was gentle. He brought one hand to hers and guided her into stroking up and down his length, her motions causing the forescales to slide up and down over the head of his cock.

"This seems simple enough," she observed, continuing the motions after he let go of her hand.

He gave a small chuckle as he leaned his head back, enjoying the sensations. "There is plenty more to learn, your highness, if you wish to continue."

"Yes, please," she answered. He motioned for her to give him her other hand, and she obliged, reaching over to him until he gently took hold of her left hand. 

Guiding it between his legs, he pressed her palm against the curves of his balls, and murmured to her, "Be gentle. Touch them, rub them, hold them, but do not squeeze."

She nodded in understanding and began to do as instructed, sliding her palm and her fingers over the orbs within his sack. Her motions were a little uncertain at first, but as she gained confidence, she slid her fingers underneath them to cup them in her hand, rubbing at the back of them after a short time. As she played with his balls, her other hand continued its steady strokes along his shaft, up and down, smearing the pre that was oozing from the tip over the glans.

Her eyes noticed that detail after a few moments. "You appear to be leaking something, Sir Knight. Is that normal?" she inquired.

He nodded and gave a low, pleasured hum. "It means you're doing well, princess," he murmured. Taking a breath through his nose, a moment later he added, "Would you like to find out how it tastes?"

Her motions on his body stopped, but she kept hold of him, thinking to herself. Just as he was starting to worry, she shifted on the bed to lie on her side, propping herself up on the elbow of the arm tending his cock. Shuffling forward, she brought her muzzle closer and closer to his loins, and Sir Verian closed his eyes and tipped his head back as he felt her hot breath washing over the sensitive, exposed tip of his length, locks of her hair brushing against his legs.

A groan escaped him and his hands clenched the bedspread as he felt her tongue grace his glans with a slow, short, tentative lick, taking away some of his precum and leaving behind her saliva. Her tongue was soft and sent a shiver through his body as she did it again a moment later, this time for longer. He took deep breaths as he reveled in the pleasure – and gasped softly when she surprised him by taking the initiative and taking the head of his cock into her mouth.

The warmth of her muzzle was delightful, and she licked at him continuously, though still slowly. Her inexperience was clear, but the softness of her tongue and maw more than made up for it, and her cautious and deliberate motions helped him to savor the moment. As he felt her hand on his balls starting to rub at them again, he opened his eyes and looked downward. He saw the back of her head and her silvery hair obscuring the view of his loins, a sight that he would remember forever of the crown princess herself sucking on his cock.

But, aware that this was merely the beginning, he brought his left hand up to his mouth. Unbeknownst to her, he slipped the middle finger into his maw to give it a good coating of saliva, and then extended that hand towards the princess's rump, lying on the bed beside him. He brushed the dry fingers of his hand over her side, and the perfectly smooth scales of her body, all the way to her hip. From here he slid them back, across the side of her tail, and then underneath, his fingers roaming over her soft undertail for a few moments before he brought his wet middle digit down and pressed it against the tight ring between the cheeks of her rump.

As he did, he heard her gasp, and she pulled her head off from his shaft, tilting her head back to look up at him with her bright blue eyes. "Sir Knight!" she gasped out, "What are you doing?"

"Preparing you for what comes next," he told her quietly, gently pressing his finger against her tailhole, but not with enough force to penetrate.

She squirmed slightly against him. "I see what you meant by 'other parts' of me now... but, won't that hurt?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not if I am gentle. And I will be."

Near silence passed between them for a few moments as she took a few breaths. "Very well then, Sir Knight. You may proceed. I trust you."

She lowered her head back down to his loins, licking at his cockhead a little, and he pressed his fingertip a little more firmly against her rear entrance. True to his word, he was gentle, carefully and slowly easing his digit into her, stretching her sphincter little by little. Once his fingertip was inside, he gently pushed it back and forth just a half-inch at a time, teasing and loosening her up.

A small groan came from her, and she rested her head against his belly. "It feels strange... but nice," she murmured quietly, and he gently patted the top of her head with his free hand.

"I am helping to loosen you a little to make things easier when we come to the main course," he told her in a low, husky voice. "You can help too... the slicker I am, the easier it will be for you."

There was a brief pause before she understood his meaning, and began to suckle on his cock again. Though her motions were still slow, uncertain and inexperienced, she had the right idea, sucking wetly on him and deliberately allowing her saliva to roll down his shaft. The feeling was divine, the princess's soft mouth bringing him more pleasure than any wench or prostitute had given him before. He groaned quietly, but focused on gradually working his finger into her tailhole, moving it in a circle within her rim to help the muscles there relax.

It was incredibly tempting to stay there and continue with oral, but instead, as enjoyable as her maw was, Sir Verian waited only until he felt the resistance from her ass disappear as her rectal muscles finally relaxed around the finger inside them. "It's time," he told her, and she slid her mouth off of his cock entirely. He slipped his finger out from her rump, and patted the bed with his other hand. "Get on all fours," he instructed, "close to the pillows."

She did as instructed, and he climbed up onto the bed, kneeling behind her. The view was breathtaking; her hindquarters were bared for him to see, with a thin trail of pussy juices running from her slit down the inside of her leg, and her raised tail showing off her tailhole, still tight looking despite his fingering of it, his saliva still glistening around her rim. Reaching out, he took hold of her hips as he drew himself close, his heart hammering in his chest as he brought his hard, spit-shined shaft closer and closer to her rump.

"Bite into the pillow," he told her. "Gently, of course."

She gave him a quizzical look over her shoulder, but did as told a moment later, opening her mouth and taking the edge of the topmost pillow into her jaws. He wished he could have heard her moan, but even with the guards gone, it would be best not to make any more noise than necessary.

He took another breath as his cocktip nudged against her tailhole. There would be no going back from this.

Slowly, gently, he began to penetrate. He bit his lip as his slicked glans stretched out her sphincter and disappeared inside of her, engulfed by the tightness of her rear. Her moan was muffled by the pillow, and he felt her tremble in his hold as he saw her toes curl in the corners of his eyes. It took great effort for him to not moan aloud either, his teeth clenching as he gradually slid another inch of his shaft into her ass, his eyes closing tightly. The feeling of her around him was incredible, and he wanted to savor every moment inside of her, sliding his hips forward bit by bit and hesitating whenever he felt more resistance from her. Even with the pillow stifling her voice, he still reveled in hearing her moan.

Eventually he hilted inside of her, his balls coming to rest against her forbidden pussylips. He panted for breath, relishing the moment, his shaft throbbing against her tight walls as he gave her a chance to adjust to the girth within her anal tunnels. He could hear her breathing through her nose as well, steeling herself for what came next.

Drawing his hips back just a little, he slid part of his cock back out from her rump, only to reverse direction and push it back into her, grinding his hips to her rump for a brief moment before repeating the motion. As he settled into a rhythm, he began to lose himself in the moment, tuning out everything but the incredible, heavenly pleasure her ass brought to him, and the sound of her muffled moans in front of him. He began to slide a little more of his length out of her on each motion, only to bury it within her body again, his sack lightly bumping against her slit each time.

There was no question about it – it was the best sex he had had in his life. Every moment of taking the anal virginity of such an astoundingly beautiful princess brought him immense pleasure, and his gentle and careful motions ensured she enjoyed herself too, her continuing muffled moans reassuring him of his skill.

When he got to the point of pulling half of his cock out of her, he began to thrust in earnest, pushing his length back into her faster than he pulled it out. His fingers dug into her hips as he clenched his teeth and groaned through them, every thrust into her tailhole just as pleasurable as the last, his chest heaving as he panted for breath from exertion and arousal. Each slap of his hips against her rump filled the near-silent room with its sound, his swinging ballsack thumping against her wet, virgin pussylips, the orbs within leaking preseed from the tip of his cock that helped to further slick her tunnels.

Soon he began to lean over her, running his fingers up the sides of her body as he kept his hips moving, thrusting into her ass again and again. His hands slipped under her body and grasped at her breasts, squeezing them lightly and rubbing his palms against her firm nipples. Several thrusts later he slid his right hand down the front of her body to between her legs, sliding one digit over the scales on each side of her slit lips. She trembled under him, struggling to keep herself up on her arms, her tail-tip wagging back and forth in the air.

Time had lost all meaning for Sir Verian as he sped up slightly, thrusting both in and out of her anal passages at a quick pace. His hands and fingers continued to tease her, caressing one breast as he teased over her forbidden pussylips, never allowing his digits to come close to penetrating, his balls slapping against them on each thrust he made. He paced himself carefully, slowing down a little whenever he felt his pleasure starting to mount, wanting the moment to never end, to enjoy the delightful tightness of her ass for as long as possible. He wouldn't allow himself to finish before she did.

But eventually he suddenly felt her tense and squirm under him, her muffled moans growing higher pitched. Her toes curled once more, and he felt her nectar squirting against his hand as he rubbed at her pussy, her ass tightening and clenching around his shaft as her body succumbed to an orgasm.

It was impossible not to cum inside such delightfully tight tunnels, and Sir Verian stopped fighting it. He hilted himself inside of her ass for the last time, and almost completely lost himself in the ecstasy that crashed through his senses. It was a struggle just to maintain enough self-control to keep his teeth clenched to keep his own groans quiet; in a perfect world, he would have allowed himself to roar in orgasmic pleasure loud enough for the whole castle to hear. His balls pulled up towards him with each thick rope of his seed that he blew deeply into her ass, emptying his nuts into the princess. Pure pleasure overtook his senses, his eyes clenched tightly, aware of almost nothing but the feeling of pumping his load into her...

...when he finally came down from his climax, he found himself panting for breath, the princess doing the same, having released the pillow from the grip of her maw. Carefully and gently, he rolled them onto their left sides, avoiding crushing their wings underneath them and keeping his injured wing away from the bed.

He cuddled up against her from behind without withdrawing his shaft from her ass; he knew he would have to do so soon enough, so he savored every moment he could inside of her. For a time they lay there in recovery, basking in their afterglows.

"Thank you, Sir Knight," Princess Opal said between breaths after a while. "That was... unlike anything I have ever experienced."

"Thank -you-, princess," Sir Verian breathed back to her, squeezing her gently against his front. "I will never forget this night. No woman will ever be able to match you."

After a few more breaths, she draped her tail over his thigh. "You planned this all along, didn't you, Sir Knight?" she inquired.

Sir Verian gave a small chuckle, leaning in and nosing at the side of her neck. "An important part to being a knight is planning ahead," he remarked cryptically.

She gave an unconvinced hum. "Have you ever had sex the normal way, Sir Knight?" she asked while panting, accusingly but in a playful tone.

"Once, princess," he murmured back to her. "It was not to my liking."

She let out a small giggle, and then relaxed in his hold with a sigh. "I will never forget this either. I only regret that I will never be able to do it again."

"Never say never, princess," he told her, placing a gentle kiss on her neck. "Perhaps fate will bring us together again one day."

"I hope so," she murmured.

After a few more moments, he sighed. "Sadly, we must clean up to avoid any suspicion in the morning. But the night is still young. My stated intentions were not a lie; I do hope to converse with you and get to know you better."

"I would like that, Sir Knight," she replied.

"Please, princess," he whispered to her, "at least call me Sir Verian."

--------------------

Maldurey's footsteps echoed down the corridors of the castle as he marched for the princess's room, Sir Verian's sheathed sword in one hand and a keyring in the other, with the head maid and several guards in tow. It was dawn, and he wasn't going to allow that knave to reside in the Princess's chambers for any longer than absolutely necessary.

Thrusting the key into the keyhole, he turned it and threw open the doors, prepared for the worst. But when he looked around the room, he found the princess asleep in her bed, while Sir Verian had retired to the armchair by the window, with a cushion behind his head as an impromptu pillow, and the only item of clothing he was missing was his boots, which were standing next to the armchair.

Maldurey frowned; no doubt this was all part of some deception. His entry had not gone unnoticed, and Sir Verian had woken, reaching for the sword he did not have in reflex. His warrior's instincts were soon overtaken as he woke up fully and realized what was happening. The princess stirred, slower to rouse from her slumber, rubbing her eyes as she sat up, wearing a silken nightgown.

"Good morning, steward," Sir Verian said cordially as he rose. "Is it time to leave already?"

"One way or another," Maldurey sneered. "Either for the gates or the dungeon, depending on how you conducted yourself."

"Maldurey, it's far too early for this," Princess Opal said as she dragged herself out of bed and to her feet, yawning widely. "I will have you know that Sir Verian was a perfect gentleman. Much better than the louts that patrol this castle."

Maldurey tapped one foot on the marble floors. "Forgive me for not taking you at your word, princess, but I have orders." He waved to the head maid, who made her way to the princess and guided her towards a side room and out of sight. The steward, meanwhile, stood before Sir Verian, with the castle guards behind him.

To his surprise, Sir Verian remained nonplussed, sitting in the armchair and watching Maldurey. Neither of them said anything for a couple of minutes, until the head maid came back into the room and scuttled over to Maldurey, whispering into his ear-hole.

The drake's frown intensified as he heard her words. Fixing his gaze on Sir Verian, he waited for several seconds before thrusting out one arm in disgust, holding the sword in its scabbard to the knight. "I have been informed," Maldurey spat, "that the princess is, indeed, still in possession of her maidenhood, and that there is no sign of any foul play on your part."

"I could have told you that," Princess Opal chimed in as she stepped out from the side room. "Sir Verian, you could set a good example to the knights here. Would you please reconsider my father's offer of a place in the royal guards?"

Sir Verian rose from his chair and bowed deeply. "I cannot, as I have already taken the reward that was agreed upon. I will have to go out and do some more noble deeds first, so as to earn another favor from the king."

"That's enough," Maldurey insisted. "The guards will show you the way out."

"As you wish," Sir Verian conceded.

"May fortune be with you in your travels, Sir Verian!" Princess Opal called out to him with a smile and a wave.

He looked back towards her for what he assumed would be the last time, gazing into her beautiful blue eyes. A knowing glance passed between them, a silent recognition of the previous night's events, that no-one else would ever know about.

"May your life be long and your reign fair, your highness," Sir Verian responded, before turning and allowing himself to be escorted from the room.