Lord Albert Hummel II stared down into the courtyard from the open arch of his bedroom window.  Outwardly, he appeared perfectly composed as befitting a person of his rank and station.  But inside, he was a man conflicted. 

His one and lamentably only son had just finished his advanced horseback training lesson for the day.  Burt (as he preferred to be called by those of his inner circle) had watched with pride as the boy had flawlessly put the frolicky young chestnut stallion through his paces, both with and later without a saddle.  The horse had been a nineteenth birthday gift, the fine animal treasured and spoiled in the 3 months that young Kurtis had owned him. 

Burt watched as an assistant stablehand approached his son to take the mount to cool and groom the beast.  The two young men spoke animatedly as they walked together towards the stable...very close together, Burt noted, as the boys frequently rubbed shoulders and exchange subtle, more-than-friendly touches.  He sighed.  Another conquest.  Kurt was going through the age appropriate boys so quickly Burt would soon have to hire more just to keep up with his kids appetite. 

Burt sighed; he knew he was exaggerating.  His son had flings, naturally.  But he was discreet with his lovers and always left them content with the time hed shared.  Burt had certainly sowed his oats at that age, he knew, and without Kurts outward propriety.  He ran a hand over his bald pate, his only outward sign of frustration. 

Kurts teenage sexcapades werent really a concern of his.  They werent even in the top five.  At nineteen, the boy needed to be well on his way to taking a wife.  The continuation of the Hummel line depended on it.  If only there had been siblings, or if Kurt had been inclined to seed even a few lovers capable of giving him bastards, hed have more time.  But fate decided that neither of those scenarios were meant to be and the Hummel line demanded pure-blood successors, and as soon as possible. 

Burt wasnt sure how long he could hold the vultures off.  If hed been anyone else, Burt would have been required to arrange a pairing as soon as it appeared his child would thrive.  But being lord of one of the most prestigious blue blood lines in the most powerful Barony in the kingdom afforded him more luxuries then lesser members of the ruling class.  But that only went so far. 

Hed explained all this to his son multiple times, more and more frequently in the last year or so.  Kurt always listened attentively, smiled politely and assured his father hed start looking for a suitable mate at the first opportunity.  And that would be the end of that.  Burts attempts to arrange meetings with eligible women were always met with excuses or the occasional disappearing act, which inevitably led to a huge argument between them.  Burt hated arguing with his son, it made his heart hurt. 

Actually, that was as good one, he noted to himself.  Hed have to remember that line for the next round of arguments with Kurt.  He needed every advantage he could get with the stubborn mule hed sired.  A trait Kurt must have gotten it from his mother, Burt decided.

Hed waited as long as he could, and far longer than he should have, hoping Kurt would come around.  The kid always took his duty and responsibilities so seriously, more so than most boys his age.  But in this one thing Kurt balked.  And this was the only thing Burt had no recourse but to stand firm on.    

He looked down at the letter in his hand.  A missive from the Queen herself, reminding him he hadnt been to court in some time and she looked forward to attending his sons wedding in the very near future.  In plain speak; Kurts time was up.