Swiss Arms 83 (Patreon)

Swiss Arms

Chapter 83

-VB-

Hans von Fluelaberg

Most of the conspirators - yes, that’s what we were - headed back home within the week, and left me and Isabella alone at our castle.

Now, one would normally think that when a young, married couple are alone, they would go at it in bed like rabbits. Unfortunately for us, we were mentally drained from having hosted over a hundred nobles, ranging from great statesmen who wanted to pick at our brains to generally inferior assholes who entered the festival as the plus ones of their betters.

So instead of sex, we just laid side by side in bed this morning.

“It could be worse,” Isabella spoke up from my left, and I glanced over at her. “We don’t have overreaching vassals and overlord.”

“I guess there is that,” I hummed to myself. The Compact’s only overlord was the emperor himself, and we didn’t have vassals so much as other members of the Compact. But there were members who regretted being in the Compact because of how small they felt.

Fucking assholes. All they did was complain instead of contributing to the Compact.

… Okay, good thoughts, please. It’s only morning. If I fell down the negativity hole, then I won’t climb out of it for a long time.

“So what’s the on the schedule today?” I asked as I pulled myself up.

“You’re going to work again?” she frowned.

I paused. “Don’t we have to?”

She looked at me incredulously. “Hans, you’re the noble, not the peasant.”

“Yeah, and?”

She sighed. “Ugh. My husband is a workaholic.”

“Oi, I don’t deserved to be called that. I’m just … not sure what else I would be doing.”

She raised an eyebrow and sat up.

My eyes, unfortunately, drifted down to her barely covered breasts. Her big breasts. Firm, big breasts that my hands couldn’t cover completely.

She hummed knowingly. “How about we take some time for ourselves today?” she cooed as she draped her arms around my shoulders and climbed up to my lap. “And get to know each other better?”

“Umm. Sure.”

She giggled. “Why is it that you always sound awkward whenever I’m trying to get you to relax?” she asked with a smile. “You really are a workaholic.”

Personally, I didn’t think that, but if my wife thought so…

“Yes, I do think so.”

I blinked. “Did I say that out loud?”

“No, but you looked like you were doubting me,” she pouted before grinding herself against me a little. Despite the fact that it was near winter outside, select rooms inside the castle, including our room, was well-insulated to the point that we only had to wear thin nightwears. And Isabella thought I did great on our first night and only got better afterward.

She had been more than happy to give me the “hero’s welcome.”

Speaking of which…

[Sex] LvL 12
Wow. That felt good…! Now, let’s feel even better, because there is nothing better than nature’s own heroin.
*+1% pleasure felt for you and your partner per level.
*+0.025% chance of causing random orgasm in partner per thrust per level

We’ve done it a lot.

It was only recently that all of the mental stress was catching up and, neither - or at least, I - was not in the mood for sex.

Even if she kept on grinding on me.

“Alright,” I sighed as I grabbed her and rolled down to the bed, making her squeal a little. “We’ll sleep in.”

She pouted a little before snuggling into my chest.

---

By the time we got out of bed, it was two hours before noon, and our main servant, a matronly woman who followed Isabella to my lands, was leveling a look of disappointment at both of us but more at her.

“Isabella~!” Joanne chidded. “Are you seducing your husband to indulge in slothfulness? Have we not talked about this?”

Isabella whined - whined - as Joanne pulled at her hair as she brushed it down from the mess it had become during the night. And the impromptu sexy time.

Thankfully, we didn’t smell because we had a pseudo-plumbing that brought up water to our room. The water, however cold, let us at least clean ourselves up a little before we came down to meet our servants and whatever guests we might have.

And we still had guests.

“Ah, cousin~!”

Isabella winced a little at the loud call and both she and I turned around to greet the one lord who stayed behind for an extended stay.

Otto III, Henry’s older brother, grinned as he came sauntering over to us.

“Cousin,” Isabella sighed. “Weren’t you going to go home?”

Otto just grinned even more at that. “I was! But I couldn’t help myself and indulge in all of the luxuries your little mountain city had to offer!”

I took a note on how he said that. He referred to Fluelaberg as a city instead of a hole, village, or town. A city was a very distinct thing within the Holy Roman Empire; only those that had the city charters could refer to themselves as cities. Of course, since the Compact was a separate entity, we could give our own people city charters if they met a reasonable requirement like Chur and my own city of Fluelaberg did.

“You are welcome to enjoy as much as you like, but please follow the rules of etiquette,” she said with a nasty glare.

Oh yeah. Otto was a bit of a troublemaker. Yesterday, he harassed one of our maid servants, and Isabella had to personally get involved in chastising and stopping him. His guards hadn’t been happy about that, but my near constant presence around Isabella when she was around Otto stayed their hand.

Otto was a bit of a bully but not in a mean sort of way. It’s just his entire way of life was about being assertive, dominant, and expensive.

Which was one of the other reasons why we hadn’t kicked him out yet. Instead of demanding he be fed, he always made sure to actually spend his money on the luxuries beyond the first few gifts we gave him. His obsession right now was sweets, because we had a lot more flavors on offer than “any other place I have ever been to, including Rome and Aachen,” according to Otto himself.

The muscular and stocky co-duke of Carinthia, Carniola, and Tyrol hummed as he stared out of the castle window.

“This place is what I see as an ideal.”

Ho?

“Why do you say that suddenly, cousin?” Isabella asked him as we began to walk toward the dining hall for our lunch.

“Is it not obvious?” he asked in return as he turned to us with a wide grin. “Money! This is where money flows like water! A city-state on par with the likes of Rome, Milan, Florence, and Venice up here in the mountains!” He clenched his fists. “You showed me that man can make his home anywhere and make it prosperous! Is that not the ideal of a man?”

Ah, he was a romantic.

“So to me, finding out that someone was out there trying to destroy this place … it is sacrilege!”

Or you just really like the luxuries we provide.

I smiled.

“It’s good to know that we have someone who’ll stand with us,” I replied and extended hand toward him.

He looked at me for a second before grasping my hand in a handshake. A duke he may be, but Otto regarded his ideas more than he did his position. I could respect that kind of a person.

“As long as you don’t fall down from this height and only go higher,” he grinned at me. “Oh, and if you make my cousin unhappy, then you bet your ass I’ll be here with an army.”

I chuckled.

See? I could respect a man like this.