Henry Atwood found Willem Martinovic waiting outside Berwinckels for their lunch date and he had been waiting there a while, Henry guessed. But being Henry he checked his watch in case he was late, which he was not. The fact that Will was neurotically early was a recommendation to Henry, who was that way inclined himself.
‘Hi Willem.’ He smiled at the lad and offered him his hand in the Rothenian way. He got the traditional handclasp and he ushered the boy within. ‘Is Berwinckels okay?’ he asked. ‘I mean I didn’t know where cool young guys go these days in Strelzen, so I took a wild guess that it might be acceptable, if bland. Your dad was a MacDonalds addict back in the day when I first met him, when he would have been about the age you are now.’
‘Really? You knew my dad then? He was just a problem teenager from a criminal family, the way my mum tells it.’
‘He was one of the Starcrossed crew from Sudmesten Central, like your mum was too. They were all of them an exceptional bunch of teens, your dad no less than the others. Yuli and Roman were a sensational talent of course, the find of my old mate Davey Skipper’s career, apart from Live Action I suppose.’
‘Mr Skipper?’ queried Will. ‘I was sorry to hear about his injuries.’
‘He did the brave thing in the Horde War, and volunteered to defend Rothenia. But he was very badly wounded in action. So he retired and is now living what I hope is a quiet but stimulating life in a faraway and unspoiled location.’
‘My mum speaks very highly of him.’
‘He had a great affection for her and her mate Della Ortolan, now Della Kral. But he liked your dad too, who was quite a star in his own right. He and Willem Kral kept the boys on the road while Starcrossed were having a rough time at home.’
After a brief silence, Will moved on to one of his prepared conversation gambits. ‘Congratulations on being in the new government, sir. I heard about it on Eastnet last night. Minister of Arts and Media … what’s that?’
Henry laughed. ‘I’m still finding out, kid. But you may be able to help me.’
‘Oh, how?’
‘I’ve not been a teen for a couple of decades now, Will. And I have little idea what sort of online lives you guys lead. In my day it was Myspace, but that gave way to Facebook and Instagram. Twitter I never got into, it was too like reliving the horrors of the school playground. But like Google, they’ve gone the way of the dinosaurs, and the Oecumene is not reinventing the web for the benefit of American billionaire oligarchs.’
‘Oh … not sure what you want to hear, sir.’
‘What social media sites are part of your life, to begin with.’
Will shrugged. ‘Twitter, or rather X, well that’s gone. There was a more liberal version called Bluesky which survives, but just like X it was Anglophone, and me and my friends don’t use it. College students might, as it’s heavily academic. TikTok was a craze with Gen Z and it’s still around, but no one goes to it for news. For that we watch Eastnet or RTV like our grandparents did. With a realisation that truth matters, there’s been a return among the young to the so-called “Legacy Media”.’
‘That’s good to know, Will. We’re still relevant. Good news too for my old mate Marek Toblescu and for Strelsenermedia. Don’t you know his boy, Johan?’
Will could not quite mask the look of distaste that the name conjured up, and Henry caught it.
‘Ah, you two have fallen out have you? I’m not surprised. He’s an odd boy, and his parents did him no favours by bringing him up “free range” as they called it. He made it to uni at least. Still, I find him pleasant enough.’
‘Oh, he knows how to ingratiate himself, does Jo-jo. It’s his survival trait.’
Henry gave Will a sharp look. ‘Thanks Will, that was a very cogent piece of analysis, and helpful. Brisk and to the point, just like your dad. The longer I sit with you, the more I see him in you.’
‘That’ll annoy my mum, sir. She had hopes of airbrushing him out of our lives. But the past weeks in Strelzen have turned that plan upside down. I’m really getting to know and like Bolo. He’s been so kind and understanding, even when he found me and my boyfriend going at it.’
‘Oh heavens! The classic of peak embarrassment. Did he know you’re gay?
‘Mum does, but he’d worked it out on his own. He was so cool about it, just what I wanted from him, and he provided.’
‘My Edward told me last night that your mum’s being assigned to Nikaea with the rank of brigadier general after the Proclamation, as the Oecumene’s military attaché to the new King of Rum.’
‘My mum, a general! Fuck. She deserves no less of course.’
‘Edward certainly agrees with you. It’ll not be an easy assignment.’
‘How’s that?’
‘The designated king is not a Turk nor from the historical Ottoman dynasty. But the Oecumene singled him out as uniquely fitted for the task, despite his youth.’
Something ominous grew at the back of Will’s mind. ‘Er … who is he, sir?’
Henry shrugged. ‘The release is yet to be published, Will, but using my authority as Minister of Arts and Media I can at least tell you that he is indeed an acquaintance of yours.’
‘Not … Afran, sir?’ Will’s heart was struck with a chill.
‘Yes indeed. Afran Yousefi, King of Rum, or His Majesty as you’ll soon have to call the boy.’
***
Will did not like the necessity, but he had to come running now whenever Johan Toblescu called. His tormentor said he had no choice. ‘Your … our … site is really taking off, more than 300 subs now. There’s a chat feature, and I’ve been sexting non-stop for hours with our fans. They’re demanding bastards, and when you get them excited enough they’ll pay us for so-called exclusive content, for which I send them some of those choice clips we made before we went online.’
‘Glad you’re finding the work rewarding, Jo-jo,’ Will responded, not trying that hard to keep the irony out of his tone.
‘Yeah … thing is Will, some of the requests I get aren’t covered by our prep work. For instance some of the fans are into feet big time, and they reckon yours are something else. They want custom-made videos of them. They’re offering up to 2,500kr! I mean! This is where things get really profitable. So pull off your socks Will, I’m gonna do some foot worship for JackJones’s admirers.’
Will disappointed himself by getting into it. The idea that his feet were one of his attractions had never occurred to him, though clearly Johan had given it some thought. ‘It’s basically sub stuff, Will,’ he reflected. ‘I mean, for me feet are just plates of meat; ugly, hairy and veiny in most guys. But yours are smooth, hairless and well-shaped, and I can see the attraction. Jules’s are small and cute. So he’s coming over later for a back-up foot video. So just sit there and enjoy. I’ll try not to be ticklish.’
So Will watched as Johan licked his insteps and soles, and lavishly sucked his toes, an act which was, perhaps unavoidably, ticklish. Johan then got naked and stripped Will too. After some readjustment of his cameras on their tripods he sat himself on a beanbag and placed Will sitting on his bare butt in front of him on the carpet. He knelt up and placed his dick between Will’s soles, clutched Will’s feet to press them together and started masturbating himself between them. Johan was very excited by now and it was not long before he came hard all over Will’s toes, legs and belly. He took close ups of the slimy mess with his handij camera, and finished up as he licked his own jizz off Will’s feet.
He was still breathing heavily when he grinned and muttered. ‘Amazing stuff. I’ll ask the pervs 3,000kr for those clips.’
Will shook his head and grunted uncivilly. ‘You should pay me for that particular privilege, you weird twat.’
‘Makes me think,’ Johan pondered. ‘Maybe I’ll put up a price list on the site for the various things we do. The customers need to know what’s available and what it’ll cost them.’
Will stared at him. ‘This really is a business to you, Jo-jo, not sex work. I should join the Sex Workers Union, if there is one. You’re beginning to sound like the management.’
***
Will’s mental happiness was not improved to find his mother on Bolo’s apartment block doorstep. She gave him a chilly look. ‘Don’t you ever check your texts, Willem?’ she commenced.
‘Oh, sorry mum. I turned my handij off.’ Will responded.
‘That must make you the most unusual teenager in Strelzen,’ she grumpily retorted. ‘I had to check your whereabouts with Jules Kral. So, here we are. We need to talk. Can we use your father’s flat? He’s not in, it seems.’
Will was nettled by his mother’s implied criticism of his father. ‘He’s at work, mum. Where else would he be?’
She snorted, but did not reply as Will let them into the block. ‘Coffee?’ he asked, rallying a little as he seated his mum in the lounge.
‘Is the milk fresh? Bolo was never too particular in his grocery shopping.’
‘It’s fine mum, stop looking for reasons to do dad down. It should be beneath you.’
‘What does that mean, Willem?’
Will braced himself. ‘It means that I am fed up to the back teeth with the proxy warfare you drag me into with dad. It should be beneath you, mum. Especially now.’
‘Especially now … why?’ she came back at him.
‘Now they’re making you a general officer.’
‘You know about that? How?’
‘I had lunch with Herr At-vood, the journalist. He’s the partner of General Cornish. They speak, apparently.’
‘Hmph,’ his mum huffed and then sat silent so long it creeped Will out a bit. In the end he felt obliged to continue his overdue fit of self-assertion.
‘The point is mum, this petty sniping at my dad is getting neither of us anywhere. You may not approve, but I do like my dad and running him down does not make me like him less … or you more. You’re gonna be General Martinovica and I am so proud of you and what you’ve achieved. Let that be enough. I can like and be proud of both of you. And I am.’
His mother favoured Will with another long stare. ‘It seems you’ve grown up, Willem,’ she said, ‘and become your own man. I can’t say I’m unhappy about that. You’ve developed your own view of your world and that is to the good. If you were a snotty young lieutenant who talked back to me that way, I guess you can imagine the response you would get. But you are the son I bore and brought up, and you are now proving to be a man with his own fate in his hands. So tell me, O wise young one, what does King Afran of Rum see in you? And I want the truth.’
Will looked back at his mother’s level stare and made a quick assessment of the depth of the shit he was in. His mum knew he was gay and Afran’s infatuation with him would not be something that the other boy had the disposition or temperament to disguise. The best strategy was in this case to confess. ‘We’re boyfriends, mum. We’ve had sex. In this flat, to be honest.’
A rather pleasant smile briefly occupied his mother’s face. It seemed he may have made the right decision. ‘So he told me. He is, as you may have observed, a very honest young man. Lying is not something he does and he wanted me to know what his feelings were towards you, so he could pursue an honest and open relationship with you … with my consent.’
‘Yeah, he’s like that. It’s one reason I love him,’ Will confessed. ‘And have you given your consent?’
His mother was silent for a long moment and did not answer him directly when she spoke. ‘You must know something about what has brought the Oecumene to nominate Afran for the kingship of Rum. We think he will do the job well, for he has all the intelligence and moral qualities we expect of our leaders, just like his mother. Her military weight will help him consolidate his authority as much as the backing of the Oecumene. But the fact that he is openly embracing a homosexual relationship with you is going to complicate matters.’
‘Yeah, I get it, mum. Muslims do not like gays.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not as basic as that, Will. Same sex relationships are condemned by the Qur’an, so much is sure and certain. But they are tolerated in many Muslim societies under certain conditions. Two of the great Ottoman emperors had male lovers as well as wives, for instance, and they were not condemned for it. You could get away with a lot in the past if you behaved in what we would consider a bisexual way. Taking a male lover might even be approved of if you were an obviously dominant male over a lesser one.’
‘So what are you saying, mum? Afran and I can get away with it if we’re careful, if I act femme and if he gets married to a woman as well?’
‘The fact that Afran is a king will cut him a lot of slack, because you plainly have little status and you’ll be submitting to him as a good male lover must. The Horde years helped in a way, as it weakened a lot of traditional Islamic taboos. The Turks are desperate for political freedom, stability and competent government and that’s way more important to them than Afran being half-Kurdish and homosexual. We think the general tendency will be to rally to the Oecumene candidate, and if he is seen as doing a good job he will become popular.’
‘That sounds promising,’ Will said. ‘But what about Afran’s plans to do a university course in Strelzen? He’s pretty keen on studying for the next few years, mum.’
‘General Cornish and I are aware of this, Will. We very much approve of it too. Perhaps more surprisingly, King Maxim has lined up in support behind you two. He’s very much in favour of your relationship and of Afran’s university course at the Technische. Now why should that be? How well does he know you?’
Will shrugged. ‘Me? I was out in the Green Hills at Starcrossed’s big party for Herr At-vood. The king was there, but I didn’t speak to him. Maybe Afran has mentioned our affair to him.’
His mother frowned. ‘Maybe that’s it. Or maybe it’s something deeper. It’s getting understood that our Golden Elphberg has extraordinary powers, and it may be that he sees you and Afran as being more than just two boys in love.’
Will frowned down at his coffee mug as he considered how much his commercial relationship with Jo-jo Toblescu could ruin what he was clawing his way to with Afran. He was taken aback by the power of the feeling of affection he had for his lover that swelled in his mind as he recalled Afran’s smiling face and eager voice. He needed to see him.
His gaze flicked back to his mother. ‘Mum, you’re okay with me seeing Afran. That’s really great and I thank you. Where is he at the moment? We need to talk.’
***
Will looked up at the Kral house, which stared back at him though many windows. It was a large Victorian villa built originally to house either a minor Ruritanian court functionary or one of Strelzen’s early industrialists. There was a stable court and coach house to the rear, which is where Will headed. Jules Kral lived his own life in what had been a coachman’s upper storey quarters, which had been converted into a small flat for him. Apparently he did not get on with his younger siblings, which did not surprise Will in the least.
The door even had a buzzer and camera. ‘Will? What you want?’ came the hissing voice
‘Is Afran up there with you, Jules?’
‘He just left.’
Will pondered this, and in the aftermath of the positive sorting with his mum, he decided it was time to have some words with young Kral. ‘Damn,’ he responded, ‘Can I come up?’
He found the kid in front of an array of monitors in a living quarters with as many bookshelves as a small library, each shelf crammed, with surplus books lying flat in the spaces above the ranked volumes.
Will occupied the spare chair that Afran must have recently occupied (it was still warm against his back) and stared into the face of his host, a sandy haired and deceptively innocent looking teen boy. ‘So, you fuck with boys now?’ he observed.
Jules shrugged. ‘I tried it. I got into it. Doesn’t make me queer. You jealous?’
‘Therein lies a pointless conversation, kid. Fact is a naked Jo-jo put his erection inside your bumhole and filmed himself doing it. He gave you a very good review for enthusiasm then and later when he worshipped your bare feet. But you’re a year below the legal bar for sexual intercourse with older boys or girls. What the fuck are you playing at Jules?’
For once, Will had the satisfaction of seeing Jules Kral lost for words. He let the moment stretch itself out. He left it too late in the end, for the downstairs door opened and footsteps came up the stairs.
‘Will! I had no idea you’d come round!’
‘Auntie Della! Hi. It was just a spur of the moment thing. I thought Afran was here.’
‘Oh I’m sorry you missed him, love. Your mum was telling me … er … your news. He’s such a good-looking and thoughtful boy, you make a perfect couple. I hope it works out with all the politics and such.’
‘Me too. I guess us gay boys often dream of being carried off by handsome princes. Just my luck it’s not a handsome and uncomplicated prince but a king.’
Della laughed and Will caught a sidelong glance she shot at Jules as he sat fidgetting at his desk. It seemed she was already suspicious of her son’s orientation and was perhaps on the verge of giving him a hard time. Best of luck, he thought. To Will the kid was totally inscrutable in his motives.
***
Finally, as he was heading across the bridge and up past the Botanic Gardens towards the Rodolfplaz Afran picked up Will’s handij call.
‘Where are you … your majesty?’
A very nice laugh answered him. ‘Don’t you start … boyfriend.’
‘You talked our relationship through with my mum. You’re a far braver man than I am, babe. But I know you better now you’ve done it. It was the right thing to do, wasn’t it, so you did it. And the other benefit was I had to have a long-postponed conversation about my expectations in life with your military attaché, my mum.’
‘Yes, and now I want to reap the benefits of my bravery, to be in bed with my man with his mum’s approval. I shall head now for your dad’s flat. I will be waiting expectantly for my boyfriend by the time he gets there.’
Will was overwhelmed with the rush of excitement as he spotted Afran lounging by the doorway. They kissed as they met and took their time about it regardless of the foot traffic passing by. Hand in hand they climbed up to Bolo’s flat and found it empty.
‘Coffee?’ Will asked, as the hospitable son of the house.
They sat together on the sofa with their mugs, and Will satisfied his curiosity about Afran’s elevation to the throne of Rum. ‘Well,’ he said ‘it was unexpected of course, but the way young King Maxim explained their decision it made sense. Mum was very keen, she told me she was so proud of me. The Ottoman fellows were not impressive, and that Prince Suleiman gave off a very hostile vibe. He patronised Maxxie offensively. The Prince of Elphberg slapped him down. I’d never seen Prince Rudolf angry before.’
‘Do you think the Ottomans will be a problem?’
Afran frowned. ‘History would suggest so, though they were quiet enough under the Turkish Republic and they have little popular support. The people want the Oecumene, which means they want me, I suppose. But it’ll be an elected parliament that does the day-to-day ruling, not me. I am a constitutional figurehead. I imagine the Osmanoğlu clan would have wanted it otherwise, absolutism running in their blood.’
‘Will you have a nice sparkly hat?’
Afran laughed and cuddled Will. ‘You mean a crown? Turks don’t have those. The old emperors had a treasury, but its historic contents were looted by Malik-Rammu. The only survivor is the Sword of Osman, which was hidden by museum curators and was recovered by Prince Rudolf. I do believe that there will be an enthroning ceremony in the Green Mosque at Nikaea, which the Oecumene has earmarked as the royal capital, with the centre of government to be at Ankara. A bit like the arrangement in imperial Japan with the split between Kyoto and Tokyo. I think Prince Rudolf — actually he’ll be Emperor Rudolf by then — intends to be there when the Sword of Osman is belted on me during the inauguration.’
Will was a little overwhelmed by the emerging realisation that he was apparently going to be the official consort of a genuine king. What sort of life would he and Afran lead? Would he have an official position and a title?
‘When will it happen, Afran?’
The boy gave a slight shrug. ‘The Emperor is to be proclaimed at New Constantinople on 29 September. Since he’ll be in the vicinity of Nikaea I think they’re planning the proclamation of Rum and my enthronement a few days later. But certainly before 12 October.’
‘Oh, why’s that baby?’
‘Term starts at the Technische in Strelzen the week before, and I’m going to be a good student.’
***
Will found Johan grinning at his monitor. ‘We’re a sensation! 600 subs now. We’re heading into the top 2%. Our specials are flying out of the vault and retailing at 3,000kr to 4,000kr. That’s well above average on AllmyFans.’
‘It must be taking all your time to run the operation, Jo-jo.’
He sniggered. ‘The point is, Will, that all I need to see is the steadily rising money total in our account, and the work’s all worthwhile. Jules Kral is green with envy.’
‘It’s about Jules I want to talk, Jo-jo. You’ve drawn him into this enterprise and he has no business being in it.’
Johan scoffed. ‘You tell him that. It’s the Kral weakness, Will. Money. They sniff it and they want it. Jules wants so bad to be like his dad, a krone billionaire before he was 25.’
It was Will’s turn to scoff. ‘All he’s likely to get from this venture is a youth court custodial sentence. He’s fifteen, doing things you have to be an adult to do. If the site finds out they’ll go directly to the police, because they daren’t not be above board if they want to stay online in Rothenia and the Oecumene. If they find out you’ve been using him to make gay sex videos guess where you’ll end up? In the Arsenal with three of my uncles. Or more likely dead, when his dad catches up with you.’
For once he could tell he had shaken Jo-jo’s smug equanimity. ‘You don’t think … nah. Won’t happen. But what will make it less likely is if you do more shoots with me. Then I won’t need Jules’s skinny body and tiny dick for filler shots where you can’t see his boyish spotty face.’
Will growled. ‘Somehow you always make it about me, you tosser.’
***
That September evening Will and Afran decided to meet up and see what Strelzen could offer two teenage boys in love. They met at King Henry, and Will watched Afran exit the main palace gate to reach him.
‘What’s it like in there,’ Will had to ask.
‘In the Residenz? Impressive, though not dusted often enough, I think. The breakfast buffets are really something. I’d give it a good review on Expedia.’
Will giggled. ‘I don’t think we can get into any of the bars on the Plaz, but there are some good cafés down at the other end who’ll serve us.’
‘Ah,’ smiled Afran, ‘and then we’ll be at the top end of the Wejg if we want to be naughty.’
‘You’re not being serious, lover, I hope.’
Afran laughed happily. ‘You can be teased, Will. That is so good. No, a nice outdoor seat on the square in this pleasant evening will be all I want. We can watch the people go by and sip our drinks, pretending to be sophisticated urban youths.’
So the pair took a table under the lime trees outside the Café Insolite, and Afran confidently organised drinks and a cake, and then paid for them despite Will’s protest. ‘You’re a guest in my country!’
It was as Afran was fiddling with the card machine the waiter offered that something struck Will as very wrong. A man was staring at them across the café’s seating barrier, and he pulled a black object from within his short jacket. ‘A gun!’ Will yelled.
Copyright © 2025 Michael Arram
Posted 3 September 2025