<div class="floatleft">(http://i66.tinypic.com/15o8l02.jpg)</div><br/>(<del>I'll just assume the meeting point is in the tavern from the beginning. We need to give it an appropriate name - how about "Cock and Bull" or "Nag Slapper"?</del>So it's already named. The Duke and Monkey.)<br/><br/>Ember seemed overly distracted after all the work of the day. It's not true exhaustion, and neither is it a real injury. Despite her voluminous nondescript robes she was obviously fidgety, and constantly adjusting the way she sat; she often touched her face, tugged her hair, or reached into her clothing to adjust this or that. Focusing on anything in particular was right out. No, she was thoroughly somewhere else in her thoughts if left alone for more than a few seconds, and had to bring herself back to reality by the force of her own will.<br/><br/>Fortunately, she was not lacking in that department. Hopefully that distraction wouldn't  grow into something more, or she'd find herself... too frustrated to go on. Anyone sitting next to her might have noticed her grinding against her seat time and again, every time frowning and shifting again.<br/><br/>In truth, it was a deeply sexual frustration the encounter earlier had left her with, and no matter how she tried she just couldn't shake that itch deep within her tummy. It was there, churning and smoldering and successfully resisting all attempts to ignore it. And no amount of scratching, shifting or pinching would make it go away. No, it needed a long, stiff object rammed deep into her ass, pistoning, making her writhe in ecstasy and scream her head off while...<br/><br/>She shook her head and forcefully brought herself to her senses again. Drooling like an idiot with a hazy expression was not something to pursue, not in this lifetime, not in this tavern. Her nipple was sore from the self-inflicted pinch - the pain making her focus on reality, at the cost of feeding that churning little dot deep inside her.<br/><br/>So she looked at the other Queens, wondering if they caught on to her situation. A slight blush of shame coloured her cheeks, easily resisting attempts to dispel it.<br/><br/>"Okay, the easiest spot to intercept them would be right at the gate. Do we want to go with them as recruits, or have we some more nefarious plan with the poor cultists?"