You should totally write more evil chancellor stuff :3 they’re so delightful to read. <3.
You know, they’d snicker after every time you fuck. It’d actually be almost cute how giddy they are, like someone who finally got to bed their crush, if you didn’t know any better. Well, it is still kind of cute, the way they keep grinning, rubbing their hands together. If there’s a mirror nearby — and there definitely is one if you are in their quarters, for every evil chancellor is a vain creature — they will be glancing at their own reflection and winking at it. Oh, Royal Secretary Le Sinistre, what a sly old dog you are. As if they aren’t obvious enough, they will actually say everything they are thinking out loud: “Perfect, perfect! My brilliance is truly unmatched! ’Royal Secretary’ — bah! No longer pulling strings in the shadows, for soon, all of the realm shall bow to their new ruler, to the royal consort, His Majesty Le Sinistre!”
They must really think their prowess in bed left you not just fucked stupid, but utterly unable to comprehend speech. What started out as already conspicuous whispers and giggles has turned into a booming, fist-raising declaration. The start of a bout of manic laughter — a common sound in the palace especially after dark, when the evil chancellors have retired to scheme in the supposed privacy of their chambers — gets cut short when you decide to turn to look at them and bat your lashes at them, as if having just woken from your orgasm-induced stupor.
Some of them actually show a brief glimpse of panic, then, jolting and flustered and letting out some undignified noise. Most manage to flip their demeanor as if from a switch, though, smoothing back their greying hair and flashing you an oily smile they think charming, before laying out the compliments, thick as butter.
“My, my, Your Majesty, what a sight You are, truly Your beauty and loveliness are without a match whether one was to look for in all the lands or heavens themselves. Just a moment to hold You in my arms was a treasure Your most humble, most loyal, most devoted, most enamored servant could not have dared to imagine even in the most audacious of dreams…”
They start to caress you again, long, spindly fingers reaching between your legs the moment you wiggle your hips a little. There’s an enchanted amulet hidden under your pillow, one supposed to make you fall more and more in love with every orgasm you receive — or so they think, the Royal Treasurer L’Avare actually switched it up with a fake last week, part of yet another plan to seduce you, naturally.
But each minute they spend wooing you and cooking up schemes to woo you and sabotaging each other’s schemes to woo you is a minute less of them trying to consolidate power for themselves, so it’s a win-win for you. Let them keep their illusions.