A Line of Soft Princes - Ch. 11 - A Bite of Ripe Peach

Love an excuse to look up fruit tree varieties for naming purposes. The Lord Napier nectarine apparently has "melting and juicy white flesh" and I'm sure that's not relevant to anything you'll read in this chapter at all.

***

A few weeks later, around the midway point of the Season, Bartem received an interesting surprise.

It was the day of the annual debut ceremony, when members of the nobility presented their eligible sons before the queen and the rest of the court. It was also a day where those who had recently been conferred noble titles could present themselves and their entire families. It was a lively affair. For the most part, everyone knew everyone else and knew who would be introduced, so there was far more interest in the buffet that ringed the edges of the hall than those being presented.

Bartem stood beside his brothers, both of whom were seated on either side of him, wielding gilded fans against the summer heat as they noshed endlessly on the offerings behind them. Bartem was sipping on a glass of chilled champagne. He didn’t blame his brothers for being so enthusiastic with their fans. Nearly two months at court had swelled them both, making hot days that much more unbearable. Even clad in clothes that exposed their wobbling bellies and hanging breasts, they had sweat beading along their brows. It was a wonder to him that they could manage to keep eating in such weather. A belly full of anything but chilled foods left him miserable on sweltering days, and he imagined the effect would be magnified if he was swaddled in as much excess flesh as his siblings were.

Not that he felt he had much room to judge. Nearly a month on from realizing he needed an entirely new wardrobe, he had become no slimmer. He had already asked George to schedule an appointment with the tailor again. His clothes were growing so tight again that new clothes couldn’t come fast enough.

He was proud of himself for not giving in fully to his appetite during the debut ceremony. (So far, anyway.) Since he was not the focus and had no duties as a host or honored guest, he knew he could get by without tasting a morsel. He had eaten plenty at breakfast (if he was honest, perhaps a smidge too much). He was only on his second flute of champagne, which was reasonable given they were over an hour into the debut procession. His stomach felt a little emptier than was comfortable, but he knew he must bear up. How much of a hardship was a slightly hungry belly, really?

The gauzy, delicate tunic he wore was designed to cover him up while keeping him cool and being forgiving on his growing figure. He was grateful for that forgiving cut. He had already grown too fat for some of his other garments. This tunic merely clung to him, the fabric puckering around his bellybutton. The fitted trousers he wore beneath the tunic had become a bit too fitted. How frustrating that these were some of the most comfortable garments he owned!

He glanced up at the dais where his wife and a few of her siblings sat arrayed around the queen. Evie looked beautiful, dripping in jewels, every bit the future queen.

His eyes ran over the latest group presenting themselves to the monarch… and he stiffened. Was that…?

“Lady Astor, presenting herself, her husband, Lord Astor, and their eldest child, Napier Astor.”

Bartem choked on his champagne, coughing into his hand and trying to collect himself quickly enough to get a good look to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

But he wasn’t. No, right there, bowing in front of the queen, was the Astor he had kissed in lush peach orchards. He looked like a lush little peach himself: creamy and full-figured, with a ruddy blush to his rounded cheeks. Heat began to build in Bartem’s lower belly at the sight of him. He recalled that he had once wished Astor were noble and able to properly fill out, and it was clear that process had begun. Given how flushed he looked after bowing, and the way his palm rested atop his belly as he waddled into the crowd with his parents, Bartem could see that Astor’s growth was far from complete.

“Don’t you know him?” Linden asked. Bartem jumped, surprised Linden recognized the name.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re old friends.”

Linden raised his eyebrows, a skeptical look on his face. “Is that all? By the way you dribbled your drink all over yourself, I would’ve thought you were more… intimate.”

Emmett giggled around a mouthful of cake, and Bartem glared at Linden, who hid coyly behind his fan. “You are mistaken.” He had to say this more for the benefit of anyone eavesdropping on them than his brothers–and he was sure everyone within earshot was paying attention to them. He wasn’t the center of attention, but he was still a prince.

“Hmm,” was all Linden said in response before reaching for a phyllo pastry and popping it between his lips.

Bartem felt out of sorts for the rest of the event. He did his best not to let it show, making light conversation with his siblings and anyone else who happened to meander by for a conversation. From up on her throne on the dais, though, Evie could see his discombobulation clearly.

She felt a little devious, and wickedly pleased as she watched her husband squirm a little. The Astors’ presence at court was no accident. After watching Bartem at the Driesens’ party–the partner he chose, how happy he seemed, and (most important of all to Evie) how eagerly he lapped up food when in the presence of someone who dazzled him a little–Evie had determined Bartem needed someone in his life who could serve that purpose. .

So she had done a little investigating. Or, to be more precise, she had sent someone to do some investigating for her. She had discovered all kinds of interesting things about her husband, but most importantly, she had learned who he had been close with before their engagement. She hadn’t been surprised that it had mostly been young men from the village on his family’s estate. And when her investigator had told her about the plump son of a peach farmer that Bartem had once favored, she’d needed to suppress a squeal of delight.

The investigator’s verbal description, as well as some rather lovely sketches, made it clear that Napier Astor was everything she’d hoped he would be. The people of their great nation were, as a rule, rather well off. It had been centuries since anyone in their nation had felt widespread hunger, thanks to some strategic invasions of fertile farmland and careful farming practices. Even the lowliest of peasants tended to have a little heaviness about their middles. Farmers were even better off, given both their easy access to their own crops as well as how much food production was prized by the nobility. Still, it was uncommon to see farmers or their families looking notably heavy. Farming was difficult work.

Somehow, though, the eldest Astor boy had beat the odds. By the standards of the wildly overindulgent nobility, he was quite slim. But he was even bigger than Bartem had been when she’d first laid eyes on him, and had grown so on a steady diet of nothing but peasant food and juicy peaches. Evie knew he had potential, and likely an appetite that was only held back by the resources available to him.

It had been trivial to raise the Astor family up to minor nobility, giving them full ownership over a sizeable estate covered in peach orchards in a different part of the country. She knew that if her instincts were right, young Napier would begin to ripen and fill out as soon as the Astors took up residence. She trusted herself so much that she didn’t even bother to have someone check in on the Astors in the following months. The Astors would present themselves, and she would be proven correct, she was certain.

Bartem’s old flame had not disappointed. From her vantage point, she had watched him moving around the edge of the buffet as other nobles presented themselves and their children, gorging himself like he’d never seen food before. She could see that he’d easily put on forty pounds in just a few months, and it was obvious that gain would accelerate rapidly now that he was at court.

When he bowed before her mother, panting a little because of how full he’d stuffed himself, she knew that Napier Astor was just the man her husband needed in his life.

She knew her husband well enough to be certain he would find his way to Astor as soon as he had half a moment of free time, and the thought pleased her to no end. She was happy to have done something that would make Bartem happy, even if he didn’t know she’d done it. She was even happier imagining what a little extra inducement would do to her lovely husband’s waistline.

It was easier to sit through the whole boring presentation ceremony after that. Bartem had no way to realize, but with a few deft moves, Evie had changed everything.

It was just too bad she didn’t think of hiring more tailors for the royal household before she did it.