A Line of Soft Princes - Ch. 1

Linden was nearly ready to be put on display. Two servants dressed and primped him as he popped small sweets into his mouth. Linden and the rest of his brothers would be presented to the princess that day, and though he was merely a third son, he had every intention of securing her hand. He had spent his entire life being molded into a soft, precious ornament. What better way for him to be displayed than on the arm of the future queen?

The servants placed gold circlets on his upper arms. They dug into the excess flesh, emphasizing his size. He smiled into the mirror and struck a coquettish pose that emphasized just how lush they’d become.

His shirt (if one could call it that) was so sheer it left nothing to the imagination. The sag of his belly and breasts, stunningly large for his eighteen years, pressed at the fabric, which puckered around his belly button. Princess Ginevra was sure to find that much to her liking.

Linden found himself wishing he had a belly button piercing to properly accentuate it, but his parents would never have agreed. “No woman wants a husband who’s been marked, Linden—not anyone worth marrying, anyway,” his father would chide every time he asked. Linden traced the curve of his belly and pouted. He hoped the princess was more open to the idea.

Servants helped him into a long skirt with hip-high slits cut into the sides, ensuring his dimpled thighs could be shown off whenever he chose.

One attendant added gold paint to his upper lip, cheeks, and eyebrows and styled his hair so it was out of his face but still flowing, radiant and red, down his back. A look in the mirror showed a fine match for a princess.

But Linden had to do everything to ensure he was her choice. He snapped his chubby fingers. “Water,” he demanded. A servant filled a goblet with cool water and handed it to him. He chugged it down, careful not to smudge his makeup or drip onto his fine clothes. “Another.” His cup was refilled and summarily emptied, again and again. When he could feel the liquid sloshing inside him, he stopped. He looked properly bloated now, stomach jutting out and hanging even heavier now that it was filled with water. It was a sneaky move, but he had to look his absolute best.

He preened a little more, adjusting his hair and clothes. His stomach growled through all the liquid. He’d needed to sharpen his appetite for the luncheon, so he hadn’t eaten since waking nearly five hours before. (Well, except some sweets, but those hardly counted!) He was famished now. But it would all be worth it if he was selected. A marriage to the princess would mean a full belly for life. A few hours’ hunger was worth that, surely?

Well, almost. He did eat a few more of the treats a servant proffered before him, which of course only made him hungrier. Just a short while before I can eat again. Just a bit longer.

A loud call echoed through the house. “Boys!” Linden’s father called. “Boys, to the main hall immediately. She’ll be arriving at any moment.” Linden bustled to the main hall, trying to move quickly but not so quickly that he began to sweat. Servants touched up his clothes and hair as he went, and one gave him a quick spritz of warmly-scented perfume.

He found two of his older brothers waiting there, one preening, the other looking bored.

Nolan, the eldest, had truly abandoned all decorum and was wearing hardly anything. His torso was bare, pale belly stacked in creamy rolls of buttery fat. His legs were nearly bare as well, with only a cloth tied so it hung between his legs and kept him decent. He had silver designs painted on his skin to emphasize his curves and rolls, with thin silver chains around his plump hips that chimed quietly whenever he moved.

Someone’s getting desperate, Linden thought with a smirk. “Hoping going nearly nude will hide how skinny you look next to me, brother?” Linden teased.

“You’re only saying that because you’re jealous you aren’t as bold,” Nolan replied smarmily. The two were of similar size, but most thought Linden was fatter because of his broad, smooth stomach which seemed to go on forever. Nolan’s double (verging on triple) belly just didn’t have the same visual effect.

“Hard to be bold when you’ve hardly anything to show off. Glad to see you embracing those slim hips.”

Bartem, the second-eldest, stifled a laugh. He had opted for more practical clothing. Everything he wore was tailored impeccably, but it was all quite plain. He wore no jewelry or embellishments, no paint or makeup. Bartem was the thinnest and tallest of the elder three brothers, and seemed to care little about finding a good match—or any match, if his lack of enthusiasm at the dinner table was any indication. He preferred riding and archery over more suitable, sedentary pursuits. Linden found the very thought ghastly.

Their three younger brothers trailed in. They were all a bit too young to be married, but they were still competition for the princess’ hand. If the princess truly wanted them, no one would complain about a long engagement. The princess might even consider it time to properly mold her new husband.

Linden eyed each of his younger brothers. Reed, the fourth son, looked like he’d spent all morning stuffing himself. A childish mistake, given the luncheon showing that was planned. Clay, the second youngest, still looked awfully thin. He hadn’t even managed to clear two hundred pounds by his sixteenth birthday, and not much had changed since then. Poor thing. He’ll have to learn to keep up if he’s to find a partner. He doesn’t want to end up like Bartem. River, the youngest, had clearly taken some of Linden’s advice. His clothes were showy, but not as brazen and desperate as Nolan’s. He looked properly pudgy and round, his eyes bright as he looked over for Linden’s approval. Linden smiled at his baby brother. He’ll make a fine match one day.

Their father joined them, standing at Nolan’s side, ready to present each of them by name. Their mother waited outside to greet their guest. They chatted in hushed tones, waiting until they heard—

And there it was. The sound of her carriage rolling to a stop. “Positions, everyone. I want good posture from you all. Remember your manners. Chin up, and put those tummies front and center. Reed, if you belch, so help me—“ Father abruptly fell silent, his round face smoothing into a smile. Their mother, Anna, walked through the door; beside her was Princess Ginevra. Ginevra was as beautiful as everyone had said, with raven hair and a calculating look in her eye.

“Your Highness, this is my husband, Ayers.”

Father bowed as best he could, his impressive bulk making that rather difficult. “Your Majesty.”

“Well met, Lord Burrock.”

“Your Majesty, these are our sons,” Lord Burrock said. “Nolan is our eldest.” Nolan swept a bow. He was still graceful, despite how fat he’d gotten in the last year. His dancing lessons were paying off. “And Bartem, just a year younger.” Bartem bowed primly, just as deep as protocol required and no more. “Linden, our third.” Linden bowed low, careful to flash some jiggling thigh as he did so. When he rose, he imagined he saw the end of a smile on the princess’ lips.

The others were introduced, and Ginevra complimented them all. “You have a lovely family, Lady Burrock. Your land must be doing quite well to have so many strapping sons.” The princess looked over at Linden as she said it, and he nearly blushed.

Eventually, they made their way into the dining room. The princess was seated at a short table, and Mother sat beside her. Father and all six sons sat at a table facing the ladies, the better to be properly observed.

Linden was eager to prove himself, and even more eager to finally eat. Between the excitement and his short fast, he was nearly starving. The kitchen staff did not disappoint. Before he knew it, he’d finished half a roast duck, and was only pausing to sop up the sauce on his plate with a thick slice of bread. The room was filled with the frenzied sounds of eating. All the Burrock boys knew they must perform. Even Clay and Bartem were eating properly for once.

Soon, the ducks were cleared away and the sweets started coming. Linden loved sweets, especially the fruity kinds. A whole platter of pastries stuffed with ham and preserves found their way into his hungry belly. Then a small mountain of meringues. Every once in a while, he looked up at the princess. He wanted so badly to see some proof that each bite was garnering her favor.

But Princess Ginevra was sly. This wasn’t her first viewing, and she knew better than to display any preferences so early.

All Linden could do was keep stuffing himself and hope it was enough.

He ate until it was difficult to breathe. Until he could scarcely move. Until the very last dishes had been dropped before him, and his brothers had long since given up. He only stopped when he was certain he would vomit if he didn’t.

When it was all done, the princess stood. And she clapped. “An excellent showing. Quite impressive. Seeing Burrock appetites in action is truly something to behold. You hear the stories, of course, but nothing compares to the reality.”

Linden let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. He’d done his best, and it might have been enough.

“Lady Burrock, may I discuss something with you in private?” the princess asked.

“Of course, Your Highness.” The two women disappeared. The seven Burrock men were left to tend to their turgid tummies and prepare to stand and say their farewells. The ladies gave them plenty of time. Linden wondered if that was good or bad. What could they possibly be discussing? Not that he wasn’t grateful for the rest. Marathon eating was difficult work, and he’d outdone himself today.

Slowly, and with some assistance from their servants, they all waddled into the main hall once more. Each of them was stuffed to the gills, fit to burst out of their clothes. (Well, except Nolan, who wasn’t really wearing anything to burst out of.) Still, Linden was certain he would be chosen. He was clearly the right choice. Who better to showcase the wealth and power of the crown than he?

When Mother and Ginevra walked out to meet them, Linden was smiling smugly to himself. Nolan was clearly disappointed with his showing; he kept casting jealous glances at the puffed up orb of Linden’s gut. Father patted Linden on the back, proud his son had acquitted himself so well.

Which was why it was such a surprise when the princess approached Bartem. “Bartem Burrock,” she said with a smile, “I ask now for your hand in marriage.”

They were all stunned, save Mother, who looked on with thin-lipped satisfaction. Both Nolan and Linden looked ready to collapse to the floor in anguish. Bartem was more surprised than anyone, but managed to compose himself. “Your Majesty, I am deeply honored by your attentions.”

Bartem looked at his mother, and then at his brothers and father. Being the future queen’s consort was not what he wanted, not one bit, but how could he reject her? It would disgrace his entire family and ruin their prospects.

For a small moment, he allowed himself the luxury of imagining a world where he said no. He could continue to live in peace on his family’s estate. He could do mostly as he liked. He could dally with the village boys and never think again about marrying.

After that brief taste of a future he knew was impossible, he looked up at Crown Princess Ginevra. “With all my heart, I accept.”