Shit.

“Why what, exactly?” The prince responds. He turns from the window he was about to climb out of, knowing he’d been caught. “Why sneak out, why hide from the guard, why-“

“Why do you keep doing this? Slipping away, crawling back reeking of perfume and men.” The knight steps forward. “Is it a romance? At least that could be arranged.”

“Oh no. No- none of the men matter. It’s not about them, it’s…” the prince pauses. “I think this is quite a personal conversation.”

“Your father took me away from my duties specifically to handle you, sire.” The knight’s words are laced with frustration under that dull tone. “If none of these men matter, what is it?”

Theres a moment where the air lingers. Neither man speaks. Though, the prince’s face gets notibly redder.

“…the sex.” He finally forces out when he realizes nothing will happen until he does. “I shouldn’t have to detail this to you. Nor to anyone.”

“You could have any one of the servants, or guards-“

“No one in this castle is even vaguely willing to do what I like.” The prince snips out. Only after he says it does he realize what he’s admitted. There’s no way out of it now. His voice gets quieter as he attempts to explain. “They all do just as I say…”

The knight’s hand tenses against the wall. The sound of his gauntlet clinking makes the prince’s eyes widen. He leans in further, until the space between the prince’s lips and the metal of his helm is barely a breath.

“You slip out from the safety of the castle so someone will defy you?” The volume of his voice is deceptive compared to the amusement in those words. “How so, dear Prince? For you to correct them?”

The prince’s mouth goes dry. He stammers, attempting to find an answer and only loosing his words. How does he admit to everything? Stand here in the damn hall where everyone can hear?

He can’t. He just can’t.

That seems to answer the question for him.

“No, no.” The knight taunts. “You could convince a maid to do that. You want to be the one corrected, don’t you?”

He takes the prince by the arm, not bothering to soften his grip as he drags the royal along. The prince stumbles as he follows, forcing himself to match pace with the knight. The way he has to scurry behind makes him think of the squires out in the fields. Small, and unnoticed.

They were heading back to his chambers, that he could tell. The prince tries to keep his voice steady. “What are you going to do?”

It keeps happening. He gets drops of clear fluid now, and every time he remembers that it’s actually working he gets hard as a rock. Unfortunately, working from home means he’s either alone (good) or with his kid (bad). He has to start hiding boners like he’s going through puberty again. But his kiddo is so sweet and so pretty…

Actual lactation is a dream. He pumps so much his production just keeps increasing, chest size growing, nipples enlarged. And then it starts happening. A “thanks, dad” or a goodnight hug and there’s warmth in his chest, milk welling up. He starts leaking through his shirts when he hears his kid laugh, and that’s so much worse than the boners.

He never meant to touch his kid, but he was dripping with milk and so pent up. They woke up to him grinding his bulge against them, guiding a bare nipple to their lips.

“Please, baby,” he begs. “Please, honey. Daddy’s sorry, but I need this…”