The negotiations were the kind of compromise where one part – Burton – got all he wanted, and the other – The King – saved some face by not be...ng defeated entirely. The conclusion, as was normal in these cases, was to marry some minor royal off to cement the bargain. “Shit, I don’t want some fucking princess with hay for brains and a grater for a cunt. I like this doxy here.” Said Burton, looking at the buxom wench standing behind him combing his hair. She had realised early that she could. He stepped into it and pulled it up, sliding his arms through the sleeves. Emily smirked as he struggled to do up the zip.“You could always give me a hand instead of standing there sniggering,” he grumbled, and Emily smartly took the zip from him and pulled it up in one smooth movement.Andrew looked at himself in the wardrobe door mirror. “It’s a bit loose at the front,” he commented.“That’s because you’ve got no boobs, sweetie,” said Emily scathingly. “We’ll sort that out next. But you’d. More

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