As a sort of "spin-off" on the main story of Impregnator Kings, I began work on Impregnated Princess, a 'what if Edward had been born female' story.
Impregnator Kings stars Sir Edward as he fulfills his life goal to become a King and impregnate as many women as he can along the way. The story as we know took the direction of him marrying Crown Princess Tharja and becoming King of Ruhemania already.
Impregnated Princess stars Edwys, a female version of Edward who has been raised to be a perfect wife and aspires to birth many, many children with her husband, chosen for her by her father.
The story began with Princess Edwys already in Ruhemania, married to her husband Crown Prince Tharja. It continued on bbw-chan for a while but I had not yet moved it back to pregchan because I had not updated it… until now.
Here are some basic premises of Impregnated Princess, relative to Impregnator Kings:
1. The main change is Edward in this story is born female and Tharja is born male. They've had different lives and experiences but they're still on some level similar to how they are in Impregnator Kings. It's appropriate to think of this story as 'light-TG' in this case. (That is, the characters were born different genders, there is no in-story transformation.)
2. In Impregnator Kings I try to put focus on images for the females Edward interacts with. In Impregnated Princess I try to give images exclusively of Edwys herself. However, this means that I have a set 'look' for Edwys and I just use random images from anywhere, so there may be little discrepancies picture to picture.
3. Besides Edward and Tharja, other characters may have been born with their genders-switched too. Others have not. I won't say exactly who.
4. In world is overall fundamentally the same. Interpret that as you will.
5. Impregnated Princess is only updated in 'downtime' between updates on Impregnator Kings. Impregnator Kings will always be the focus. Updates may be a little less frequent, and time may be skipped more between choices.
If you're intrigued, please read on. I will give updates for the entire story as was written up until now. If you still wish to read the original thread on bbw-chan, it is over here: http://bbw-chan.net/elite/res/1245.html
I have created a link to a chat thread too. It is here: http://pregchan.com/c/res/4467.html
"Mm… wake up, my love," you hear a voice.
You turn in its direction and blink back your blurred vision at Tharja's figure.
You feel a hand stroke your soft cheek.
"I thought I'd visit you first thing this morning… we need to have a child soon, don't we?"
You certainly do.
"Mm… if you don't hurry up and get pregnant for me… it might hurt the Kingdom," says Tharja.
Yes… that's right.
You certainly couldn't forget that.
You look up at your husband's smiling face.
He's freshly shaved and his young masculine features come together in a way that sends a tingle down between your legs.
He reaches down and brings your delicate hand to his lips, kissing you softly, gentlemanly.
"May I have the honor of joining you in bed, my wife?" he asks, voice suave.
… Of course he can.
You don't need to speak.
You simply lift up the covers, exposing your sheer night clothes and undergarments.
You watch Tharja's face ignite with lust, and he starts unbuttoning his tunic.
Knowing the sight of your body can excite him like this just makes you love him all the more.
You had traveled so far for him.
You'll never forget the day your father called you, telling you that you would finally be married.
You'd spent your entire life preparing for it. Knowing the day was finally arriving almost made you faint right there.
Father began to describe your husband.
He was a rough young Prince. Fond of hunting and fighting. He barely spent anytime in his castle, instead roaming the frontiers of his country.
You were going to be terribly lonely, you realized.
Furthermore, the country had strict succession laws. You would need to give yourself to him in the presence of a holy man to verify you had your innocence.
It sounded so unromantic. Not to mention insulting. You had taken great care to maintain your maidenhead. You'd avoided all physical exertion. The times you had ridden on a horse had been side-saddle. It was, after all, something that could be shattered with strong nerves and a few fingers.
Finally, he told you that you would likely only be asked to give birth to one child, depending on if the baby was male or female.
At this, you broke into tears.
You had dreamed of having a large family. You had never thought how many kids you would 'stop' at once you were married.
You had even prepared yourself for motherhood by playing 'babysitter' for the servants who had children. It didn't matter to you that they were commoners.
Were you really to lose that dream…?
For the first time in your life, you begged your father to reconsider his plans for you.
You knew your place.
You had been carefully groomed to be a perfect wife.
Every skill you practiced was feminine.
You were taught to knit and sew.
You were taught poise and manners.
You were taught how to keep yourself beautiful and fashionable.
Your long hair reached your lower back. It required long sessions of cleaning and brushing each day. Father said it was a symbol of you femininity and fecundity. He forbid you to cut it.
–Your few aristocrat friends openly asked you how you could stand it.
You never gave them anything less than a perfect polite answer:
It's what your father wished. He knew what was best for you.
Though secretly… you knew it was to help you find a good husband, eventually. You'd endure any hardship knowing that.
…But hearing what sort of man father was choosing for you…
It broke your heart.
You could feel it tearing into pieces, right in your chest.
Father understood it too.
He did something you never expected.
If it caused you such pain, he'd break it off his plan.
You wouldn't have to go to this 'Saintheim'. You wouldn't have to marry a man with no interest in paying attention to you.
There was no disguising your relief.
You felt your heart reshaping itself, the emotions choking you up inside.
But, he said.
You would have to marry this other man. From a distant faraway land.
You'd likely never see Virilia or anything that was familiar ever again.
So be it.
You accepted, showing your father your resolve.
Hopefully, this Crown Prince Tharja would be kind.
Hopefully, he would grow to love you.
You were put on a ship the next day.
The journey was long and the boat was full of seamen. You were kept sequestered away from them in a dark cabin. the days were long, boring, and upset your fragile stomach. Even at port, you weren't allowed out. Compounding the issue, you suffered your feminine 'curse' during the voyage and had no hot water to clean yourself with or soothe your cramping.
You finally arrived in some place called 'Elbania'. The mercenaries escorting you were ugly and frightening. The food was things no civilized person should eat. Your personal items were taken from you until you begged and pleaded for your hair brush, at least. Worst still, the walking gave your feet ugly calluses.
You soon arrived at Ruhemania. Or rather, Castle Valachia.
You met with the old King, who eyed you and asked you strange questions about if you were fond of reading. You were sure any answer you'd give him would be wrong, but he seemed satisfied when you told him 'not really'. But, that good impression was soon shattered. You cried uncontrollably when you were told there would be no wedding ceremony. You were ashamed for losing your composure in front of him, and he ordered you taken away.
A maid took pity on you. She drew you a bath and fed you sweet things. She clothed you and took you to her room and helped clean and brush your hair until it was finally free of tangles. She sympathized with you being denied a wedding ceremony. In consolation, she told you about your husband.
He was a dark, dashing man, fond of study, but not dull or passive. He was his father's only child. Whatever the old King said, he would be happy if you got along with Tharja and gave him grandchildren. He was much kinder than he looked. You nodded along and tried to will your heart to believe it.
You were allowed into Tharja's wing. Wearing your whitest lace dress in the dark corridor gave you a strange feeling, and then he appeared before you.
He romantically told you it was bad luck for a man to see a woman before the ceremony, so he held a candle in front of his own face, allowing you to hide in darkness.
He set you on his bed, but didn't take you. Instead, he traced his hands over your body, saying he wanted to learn every contour you had. He discovered your wide hips, and your generous rump.
You coquettishly played along all the while, your playful gasps and coos at his hands on you soon turned genuine, and you found yourself desiring him… The touches soon turned to petting. Your lips found each other. Then his hands undressed you.
You surrendered your maidenhead. It was indeed painful, but he made it as gentle as he could. You knew, as you lost the thing you guarded most, that you were entering a new stage of your life.
Your husband gave you the best gift any man could give a woman: his seed.
You had your first orgasm.
…It wasn't a ceremony, but it would do.
He helped you disrobe fully. Your garments obscenely thrown to the floor.
You saw he was now fully erect, and you asked him how he'd prefer to take you.
In response, he wrapped his hand in yours, your fingers intertwined.
Your valley was leaking unspeakable fluids.
Your cheek blushed fiercely as he grinded his erection up and down your puffy little vulva.
"I love this sweet, cute side of you, Edwys…"
He groped at a breast, and you let out another yelp.
"You are my light, Edwys…"
He gave a strong thrust, and then he was inside you.
You rocked your hips with him, savoring the feeling of being one with him.
This made you complete.
This made you worthy of being 'woman'.
It was enough to make your tight pussy start to constrict around his hard cock.
You wrapped your legs around him, eager.
At this rate, your tight little crevasse was going to positively gush with your arousal.
He stared into your eyes, intense.
He liked to do this, it always made you twinge with the power he had over you… and how truly fortunate you were that he was so considerate.
"…You belong to me, Edwys…"
"…I am the real darkness here, you know…"
"…I'm going to corrupt you, until there isn't one ounce of goodness in your body…"
…He was just scaring you.
You knew he'd never harm you.
But, his words had the same effect regardless.
Your eyes went wide with fright, mixed with arousal.
He wasn't wrong.
Your body learned more and more the pleasure of sex with each session.
Soon you'd be a lewd woman consumed with lust.
You squeezed tighter as his strong hips pounded yours.
His thrusts were getting quicker, and his proud dick was twitching inside you.
He was going to come.
You opened your mouth, inviting his, dangling you tongue, pink and naked.
He immediately wrapped his with yours.
Pulling him deeper inside you as he came.
His seed filling every deep inch of your honeyed center.
You shut your eyes and shake happily as your own peak overtakes you.
You couldn't help but remember the oldest story of the Church, about the first man and the first woman and Temptation.
In that case, who was corrupting whom?
Your lips finally separate, and you let out a satisfied 'ah'.
He collapses on top of you, panting away, out of breath.
You raised a delicate soft hand and rubbed his back, bucking your hips and encouraging any last drops of his seed from him.
He rolled to the side, sparing you his weight.
"I can't get enough of you, Edwys."
… You can't help but smile.
Full of his seed, you feel blissfully content.
Suddenly, you sit up shock straight in bed.
Tharja turns in surprise.
You don't have time to answer him.
You lean over the side of your bed, desperately searching for your chamber pot.
There it is…!
Thankfully it's been emptied.
You pull it closer and manage to get it in front of you as fluid spills from your throat, past the lips that had been kissing your husband just a moment ago.
Of course, since it's the morning there's no morsels to speak of, at least.
You finally turn back as the urge passes, leaving the shameful vessel on the floor.
Tharja looks at you with an awe-filled expression on his face.
Looks like your secret is finally out.
"Edwys… are you already pregnant?" he asks.
You nod. You tell him you'd missed your last period.
You're sure it's that.
You were pregnant. You think you were pregnant from the first time he took you.
He lets out a loud breath, face happy.
"…Why didn't you tell me?" he asks voice tinged with confusion.
You are thoroughly corrupt.
You wanted more attention.
You didn't want to stop taking his length inside you. To stop being held by him.
You were going to pretend… until you finally had a bump.
He traces a hand along your abdomen, making you shudder.
"I could never ignore you."
He presses his lips to just above your navel.
"I love you, Edwys," he says.
… Oh …
You… you're not sure if he's just telling you what you want to hear…
–But you cry just the same…
You love him, too.
You love him so much…!
You hold on to him, your body won't let you let go.
He responds by holding you, letting you cling. A free hand running his fingers through your soft curls.
… You felt bad for hiding it.
You feel even worse when he tells you his father was breathing down his neck, going so far as to question Tharja's sexuality because you hadn't announced you were pregnant.
…You definitely wish you had told him, now.
He laughs and says it's okay.
"It'll be a secret between the three of us… I should go let him know, though. Now."
R-right. This is urgent news.
… Did he want you to come with him?
He shakes his head.
"He'll be in his tower now. The stairs are dangerous, darling. You mustn't exert yourself."
You pout a little, but he's right.
"Just rest and take it easy. I'll send a maid by to bring you something to eat."
… That would be rather nice.
Maybe you should make a request, though.
>3 votes for option one, ask him to send Daniella.
Ask for Daniella to attend to you.
You call out to Tharja, asking him to send Daniella, if he could.
You'd built up a little bit of a relationship over the past few weeks. You liked her.
Tharja… makes a little bit of a face like he's sucking on a sour lemon.
"She's probably seeing to the King's needs, Edwys, so if another maid comes, please understand."
You will, you tell him.
… You didn't really understand why, but your husband always seemed nervous about Daniella.
She probably just didn't open up to him like she did to you.
It didn't matter.
You sigh contently on your bed. You can feel your husband's semen start to dribble from your opening…
Tharja finally finishes putting on his clothes, looks back, and blows you a kiss.
"You're going to look beautiful carrying my child, Edwys."
You smile and shudder with happiness as Tharja excuses himself.
As tempting it is to just lie there and bask in the afterglow, it wouldn't do for a maid to walk in on you naked and dribbling your husband''s essence so freely.
You put on your soft slippers over your feet. It took weeks and much soaking, but finally those horrible calluses had receded, leaving them soft and dainty.
You fold your underthings in a soft linen bag for the maid. You were a lady. You wouldn't have your dirty undergarments displayed so openly.
You take the moment to admire your form in the full length mirror you'd requested.
Were you already gaining a bump…?
…no, it was just your imagination.
But your breasts were certainly sore.
It wouldn't be too long before they started to swell…
You find yourself starting to get wrapped up in further thoughts of pregnancy and motherhood.
It's about when you start thinking of what names you should choose for your baby boy that you hear the door to your quarters opening.
Even without looking, you know it's Daniella.
You speak a soft greeting to her without turning arpund.
"…Pardon me, Princess. Would you have rather I knocked?" she asks.
You still weren't tired of being called 'Princess'. It really made you feel like you were in a fairy tale.
You tell Daniella you don't mind. You're both women, after all. You'd merely become distracted.
…Still, you slip on a white robe before turning around to her. The soft fabric framing your hips.
Daniella has brought a plate of figs and some roasted nuts glazed with honey.
She removes the soiled sheet from your bed and you sit down gently on it.
You start to eat the breakfast and ask Daniella to brush your hair.
She takes up the silver-handled brush with your crest on it you brought from Virilia and she has a seat next to you, tending to your flowing locks.
She was rather skilled at this. You wonder where she got the experience. Her own hair was feminine, but not nearly your length.
"Your hair is beautiful today as well, Your Highness," she says, tone reverent.
That's why you liked Daniella.
The other maids gladly attended to you, but they were so taciturn. They never talked to you or paid you compliments like Daniella.
Maybe it was a little vain, but that went a long way for you.
If the poor old King ever passed on, you dreamed of having Daniella to yourself as a handmaiden.
Maybe you should share the news with her?
>Don't tell Daniella.
Your lips turn in a wicked little grin.
You have a secret. A perfectly romantic secret.
Keeping it from Daniella was just too devilishly satisfying.
You smile playfully and keep the news of your pregnancy to yourself.
Instead you close your eyes and just concentrate on the brushing.
"…You really should braid your hair before you sleep, Your Highness. That, or wear a hair cap when you bed down for the night," suggests Daniella.
She is right. Going to bed with loose hair just invited tangles or worse.
You explain you were rather tired last night. So you were lazy and just went to bed without bothering. You thought it too late to call a servant to help you, and it was too difficult to do it yourself.
… It's a lie. You probably could handle your own hair if you really wanted to, but, you didn't want to.
Your hair had grown at least another inch since you left Virilia. It was only a matter of time before it reached your rump, then your knees, then the floor.
…You think when your child is born you'll finally have it cut. No one will question your fertility then, and you'd rather care for your baby than your hair.
"That's not right, Princess. You should feel comfortable calling on a servant's help at any time of the day or night, for any reason."
Including her, you ask, wittily?
"… My responsibility is to the King first, but otherwise I will always assist you."
… You felt a little bad for your attempt at wit, now.
Daniella really was nice. Other than Tharja, she was the closest thing you had to a friend.
If anything, you wished she were more talkative. She would always pay you compliments and ask you about your day, but she rarely talked about herself or anyone else in the castle. The time you first arrived and she told you about your husband was a rare exception.
"Why were you up late, Your Highness…?" she asks, curiously.
…You can't say 'because you felt sick because you're pregnant.'
You tell her you don't think the sheets were set well on your bed. You had to re-do them yourself and then you were too tired to think about your hair.
"… I understand. I'll tell the maid assigned to your room to be more careful and personally do your cleaning today, Your Highness."
You try to backtrack a little, saying it's not worth anyone being punished or even scolded.
"No, you are right to tell me. Thank you, Your Highness."
… Oh well.
You say a silent prayer asking God to forgive you for lying and for whichever poor maid Daniella rebukes.
You chatter about whatever comes to mind as the time passes, your plate of food dwindling to nothing. Daniella stops brushing your hair after removing the tangles and is careful to avoid your curls.
She offers to help you into your dress, and you agree.
You wince when she ties your bodice, and you have to tell her to loosen the chest area a little, which she does.
You don your dress, tunics, embroidery, and sunhat in case you go outside.
… You're not satisfied with how you look, really.
You're a princess. You shouldn't be wearing the same dress you brought to the castle.
… You shut your eyes, willing those bad thoughts away.
Modesty was a virtue. Vanity was a vice. You were married, with child. There was no need for fancy dresses or to make yourself too beautiful and tempt other men to sin with you.
… Not that there were any other men, anyway.
At least you had your wedding ring. A pretty little band of silver on your left ring finger.
You thank Daniella, exchanging your slippers for shoes, and depart, leaving her to clean up.
You think you could do with some fresh air. You decide to visit the stables.
You weren't overly fond of animals, but it was something to do.
You'd been working with the stableman since your arrival, and one horse now was acclimated enough to you to let you pet approach and pet him.
He tells you he thinks the animal will even let you ride it now.
You decide to pass on that. You'd rather not smell like a horse.
You walk along back inside the castle.
You couldn't help but feel a bit like a bird in a cage. More-so than usual.
You wished Tharja was there for you. You wonder if he was done talking to the King…
You're only vaguely paying attention to your surroundings when a maid caught your attention.
She told you that you were wanted in the throne room.
The King wanted to talk with you, personally.
You nod, but tell the maid you don't know where that is.
She tells you she will escort you there.
You step lightly, anxiety making your heart flutter.
How should you prepare yourself to act?
The maid excuses yourself outside the portal.
You screw up all your courage, and enter.
The throne room is an active place.
There's guards holding dangerous sharp weapons at the side.
You look and see him sitting on his throne, crown on his head.
The poor old King, you'd thought of him.
He seemed cursed to never die. He was small and withered from age, but it didn't soften his mind or his strictness, which rivaled your father's.
You take small steps toward him, trying to remember your manners.
Daniella is there too, standing at his side.
She must have worked fast to already have finished your room.
Your Royal Majesty, you say.
You start to kneel, but he raises a hand and stops you.
"No need for that, Princess. In respect for your condition of carrying my grandchild, you need not kneel."
…He's too kind, you say, smiling.
"Congratulations, Your Highness," says Daniella, tone neutral.
Well, that secret didn't last very long.
You thank Daniella as well.
The old King's eyes are still on you. You think he must be focusing so much of his willpower looking at you that he's lost track of the rest of the room.
"I thought it most prudent and right that you concealed your pregnancy for as long as you did, Princess. After all, it could have been a false sign."
You… honesty hadn't thought that way at all.
You just wanted Tharja to continue to have sex with you and have a little bit of fun knowing you had a secret baby growing in your womb.
…Of course you don't need to announce your lustful feelings in front of the entire room.
You thank His Majesty, but tell him your mind is not at all clever. You merely followed your instincts.
He makes a soft sound, his eyes rolling shut for a moment.
"Maternal instincts are correct. That is why I want to reward you."
…You can't accept.
You were merely doing the duty of a loyal wife.
He shakes his head.
"You surely wish to have better accommodations, do you not? You have done me great service in living and traveling so modestly."
His eyes open again.
"This is your chance to live as comfortably as you prefer while you develop. Speak and ask of me what you want, until I will grant no more."
… You think you understand.
He was rewarding you because you hadn't expected to be rewarded.
The King's reaction right now would have been vastly different if, at the first sign of your missed period, you had run to the King announcing your pregnancy and demanding more consideration.
… Honestly, if there was one thing you could ask, it'd be for the wedding ceremony you'd never get.
But that was impossible.
It had been weeks since you arrived. You were already pregnant.
You would not be allowed to wear white anymore, you suspect.
… You decide you'll start with something innocuous.
You ask the King for a small amount of coin to donate to the Church every two weeks, so you can show your piety, as many others did.
The King nods.
"Done. You'll be given an allowance every two weeks. Speak your next request."
… More? That easily? Hm… then you should ask for some necessities.
You want softer dresses, and a tailor to help you alter them as your pregnant form matures.
The King nods.
"Done. I will have the finest tailor summoned, as well as the finest fabric. Speak your next request."
… You swallow, mouth dry. You think you're already dealing with one demand of pregnancy.
You want tart things to eat. You're having cravings. It will help you to satisfy them and eat things your baby wants you to eat.
The King nods.
"Done. I'll have a staple of fruits imported and saved for you, prepared when you please, until the seasons no longer permit it. Speak your next request."
… You begin to wonder if you can push the boundary of strict necessity.
You want jewelry. You don't feel like a Princess. If you have nice things to wear, it will help your confidence.
The King nods.
"Done. You will be permitted access to the treasury and my master of coin will freely allow you to take any valuable piece of jewelry you want to wear, at any time, no restrictions. Return them or keep them as you wish. In addition, you may wear the circlet kept here in the throne room if you like. Speak your next request."
You're feeling downright excited now…!
Once that tailor arrives, he can embroider your new dresses with any jewel you want!!
You want cosmetics! You need to keep yourself attractive for your husband. If you grow ugly, he won't have any more children with you in the future.
The King nods.
"Done. You'll be brought the finest oils, lotions, paints, rouge, and wax. Speak your next request."
You want a garden full of pretty flowers! The castle was dreary. You wanted more of an excuse to go outside, breathe the fresh air, feel the sun, and walk, even when you're heavy with your baby.
The King… nods.
"Done. A garden will be built. That is the final material request I will grant you."
…Oh. Darn it.
You suppose your imagination was running out of things to request anyway.
You calm yourself and thank the King for his generosity.
He shakes his head.
"That's the final material request I'll grant. Will you not need servants of your own? Speak and request the type of servant you want."
He expected you to ask for a 'person' now, not a 'thing'.
You can't help but glance at Daniella.
This was your chance. You could ask the King to make Daniella your handmaiden.
She was kind. She was competent. You liked her already. She could be a little more chatty, but you could live with that.
–That, and you know Tharja is wary of her and doesn't find her attractive. If Daniella is your handmaiden, you'll never have to worry about being jealous of her.
You could ask him for two handmaidens your own age.
Two servants were probably worth one Daniella. It'd be less pressure on them, too.
But… you couldn't be sure you'd like them.
What if they had bad personalities? What if they were jealous of you? Or… what if they were so cute, you were jealous of them?
You'd had a Talk with Tharja.
He was reluctant. You suppose any man would be. He only told you two things.
He didn't share a mutual loss of virginity with you on the first night you spent together. He already had experience, but he wouldn't tell you how.
He swore he had not ever fathered a bastard. You'd never have to worry about a child in the castle looking 'a little like Tharja.'
But that was 'now'. What if he became enamored with a girl…? What if you found him with her…? You were glad to discover the maids were literally old maids, and that he considered Daniella unattractive, but…
… Tharja's fidelity might be at risk if you asked for servants your age, you think.
On the other hand, what you really missed was companionship.
You had no friends. There were no other female aristocrats in the castle. You really missed having peers. Not just servants to chat at as they nodded along, but real friends closer to your standing to gossip and share tea with.
Maybe you could ask for him to bring you a female aristocrat servant. Maybe a trained midwife to help you prepare for the birth? Surely that had to require some literacy and education.
Furthermore, even if he were enamored with her, Tharja would likely hesitate before taking another aristocrat to bed. It'd be a scandal for her.
You can't think of any other type of servant you may need.
>If option one is chosen, Daniella will become Edwys' handmaiden.
>If option two is chosen, Elizabeth and Margaret will be introduced.
>If option three is chosen, Beatrice will be introduced.
>Request a female aristocrat. [Beatrice]
… You really just want a friend.
You had given up everything you knew to come here.
Your husband was dashing, the servants were considerate, and assuming the King follows through granting your requests, life is going to become much more comfortable at the castle.
…But it still won't give you a friend.
This is your only chance.
You say you believe the current servants are more than adequate to serve your day-to-day needs, but you're worried about not receiving specialized help with your pregnancy.
You request a midwife. Not a commoner to help you give birth, but someone educated and literate who will recognize possible warning signs and help you deliver a healthy, energetic baby.
The King… hesitates.
"In other words, an aristocrat."
He mulls over your request.
"In other words, someone for you to talk to."
He saw through the point of you making that request.
You freeze, caught in your selfish request by the old King.
He… he thinks you some gossipy hen eager to have another woman to cluck with.
Was that so wrong?
Did you really need to be so lonely…? And humiliated, in front of Daniella, too?
You can feel the tears welling in your eyes.
It's all you can do to force yourself to be composed.
You just want to disappear…!
"She will arrive within two weeks," he says, tone soft.
You're so surprised, you audibly gasp. Your right hand rises to your right cheek.
"As for the rest, the order for you to enter the treasury will be drawn up and processed tomorrow. You may enter it then. You may also retrieve your allowance before any service. The garden will be built starting tomorrow. The tailor will arrive within a week, along with the softer fabric. The fruit will be held in the kitchen until you request it. The cosmetics will be delivered to you as they arrive."
Hearing all of the things you requested calms your heart and makes you forget your selfish sadness.
"I will grant no more," he finishes.
You were told not to kneel, so you curtsy deeply, thanking His Majesty.
"I hope the rewards please you, Princess. You are free to leave."
You curtsy again, out of nervousness, and start to back you way to the exit, so as not to show your back to the King.
It's not until you're out in the hallway you start to let yourself become excited again.
Finally, you were to have nice things!
You can barely contain your smiling face, so you decide to return to your room before you offend anyone with your displays of emotion.
You shut the door to your room behind you, realizing sadly that foregoing a handmaiden means you'll be required to open doors for yourself more often than not.
You find the place immaculate. You look around for any corners cut in the clean-up and can't find any. Daniella really was a good servant.
You should have asked for better furniture!
You got excited when the King appeared willing to grant you anything and let the heat of the moment lead you to request that flower garden.
… Maybe you can use the flowers for decorating?
Or ask the tailor to use the fabric to make you softer sheets.
–Suddenly your thought is interrupted.
You double over, falling to your hands and knees in sudden nausea. The taste of salt in your mouth.
You find your chamber pot (now empty, at least) and ready your face in front of it just in time.
You reel back, miserable…
It seems 'morning sickness' is not, strictly speaking, limited to the morning.
>No choice yet. Update soon.
You remain on the floor for a while.
You probably could will yourself to get up, but you don't want to have to fix your clothes or your hair.
You just let time pass.
Eventually, there's a knock on the door and you tell whoever it is to come inside.
It's one of the maids.
She starts to say something, then asks if you've fallen.
No, you haven't fallen, you're feeling ill, you tell her.
She backs away, asking if you think you're sick and if she should get help?
You reach the limit of your patience.
You're not diseased, you shout, you're pregnant! Doesn't she know?!
She apologizes, confesses her ignorance, then congratulates you.
… You feel bad for yelling at her.
You had only been summoned by the King. It didn't mean the whole castle knew.
You tell the maid you're sorry but you don't think you're good company right now. Leave you be.
She says she understands… but your husband is wondering why you're not at the sitting room for lunch.
Suddenly you find the strength to stand.
You ask the maid to wipe your lips, then check yourself in the mirror.
… You throw your hat on the bed and straighten your hair a little, picking up a comb to do it. Your dress looks well enough, at least.
You tell the maid you're going right away, and to please empty the chamber pot while you're gone. She bows and says she'll do so.
–You apologize again to the poor old maid. You claim it must be your child affecting your mood as an excuse.
She accepts your apology and tells you she understands.
Yes. She must have had many children of her own in her day.
You leave through the open door.
You're not anticipating the food so much as seeing Tharja.
Your husband wants to see you! He asked for you!
It's enough to add a gay spring to your step.
You knock atthe sitting room's door and Tharja opens it for you.
He greets you warmly. You'd like to kiss him, but you dare not until you eat something to hide the taste in your mouth.
He pulls out your chair like a gentleman and you have a seat.
… You could do that all yourself, but it really was a strain.
Muscles were ugly. You avoided exerting yourself. Especially your arms.
Your strength were in your hips anyway. With this strong feminine strength, you would bear many children.
Lunch is a harmless looking garlic soup.
You ignore it to talk with Tharja.
There was never any maid who stayed with you in the sitting room, so you could talk a little freely.
"I have some regretful news, dear…" he begins.
Oh, no. What?
"The King wants to start preparing me to become his heir a little more seriously… I'm going to have less leisure time and less time I can spend with you, I'm afraid."
You pout at hearing that.
No more mornings like today…?
He gives a little grin.
"I didn't say that."
Your heart fills a little eased.
He then goes on to explain he may miss meals, not be there in the morning or at night, or even go whole days without seeing you.
He may even have to leave the castle, occasionally.
You have to be brave. A good wife understands when her husband can't be with her.
…But you can't help but feel you were right in hiding your pregnancy and letting it slip was going to mean less sex with Tharja.
A tiny part of your mind thinks he may even seek it out from somewhere else.
That's his right, you tell yourself.
Hopefully you'd never see it.
You know you won't understand any of the responsibilities Tharja now has, so you don't ask.
You talk instead about how the King summoned you. To reward you.
"Truly? I suppose that is like father."
Mm. You noticed.
When Tharja was thinking about the King in a positive way, he said 'father' to refer to him.
When Tharja was thinking about the King in a way that was distasteful or had some obligation, he said 'the King'.
He must have two dueling ideas of his father in his mind.
"What did you ask for?" he asks.
Dresses. Jewelry. Make-up.
…You apologize for being a vain, shallow woman.
He laughs, and holds your hand.
"I'm sure he expected that… and I'm sure you'll look lovely in them."
You blush and thank him for the compliment.
You also mention the flower garden.
"Oh, a fertile, healthy patch of flowers for a fertile, happy girl?" he teases.
You can't wait to go walking there, you tell him.
He nods, and promises he'll walk with you sometime.
It makes you happy to her that. Though you did sort of force that promise from him.
He points out you're not eating your soup. You tell him you know, you're just… waiting for it to cool. Your tongue is sensitive.
It's not a very good lie, but he doesn't press you.
You finally pick up your spoon and eat.
To your surprise, you find it does actually taste a little different…
You don't think it was cooked differently. Maybe your lie wasn't such a lie.
You force yourself to eat.
Tharja finishes his own food, then says he must go.
"Since I won't have as much time to meet you… please, feel free to enter my wing any time, dear. If you want to go to my library, you can even do that."
Tharja had his own wing of the castle.
He didn't really keep anyone out, that you saw, but people just didn't seem to visit.
Even Daniella didn't go there.
That was fine for you both. It meant you could make love in privacy.
But, he also had a library.
He'd shown it to you once, just to show you, but you aren't much of a reader so you didn't give much thought to it.
If he was telling you that you could go there, it meant he was all right with you possibly seeing if he was in his room and didn't mind your companionship.
…Or that life was about to get so boring you might as well take up reading as a hobby.
You suppose there's no law that says you have to actually read the books there. You could take them to your room, or even outside.
Reading in the sun among the flowers in your garden sounds suddenly romantic.
He gives your hand a kiss, rubs your belly a little, then turns away to leave.
It only occurs to you after he goes that you didn't mention your new 'friend' the midwife.
You finish lunch, then get tired of walking the corridor. You return to your room to prepare yourself for the night.
You have a maid help braid your hair and ask her to wake you in the morning. She helps you out of your dress and into your night clothes as well.
You stand in front of the mirror and try pushing your belly out.
Still no bump. Maybe soon?
You wonder if the midwife will arrive before your tiny little boy makes himself plain to see.
Of course, you're having a son.
A woman just knows, you remember a tutor telling you.
…And if you 'knew' wrong, never, ever, admit it.
You giggle to yourself, then excuse the maid helping you.
She shuts the door behind her, and you climb into bed, pulling the canopy around you as the light from the approaching sunset streams in.
Daniella really did fold the sheets well.
She's a nice girl. She should be married.
She could teach her children to be good servants so you wouldn't have to worry about the needs of your own children.
Maybe you should tell her that next time you see her…
Thankfully your stomach gives you a break and you eventually sleep.
>Sneak to see Tharja.
… You want your husband.
You put on your robe and slippers.
You pick up the candle and creep to the door.
If you're fast, maybe you can see him and steal back to your room before the castle starts getting more active.
And if not… well… it was no crime to get attention from your husband.
You pull open the door, putting your hips into it to get it open with one hand, and sneak into the corridor.
You really don't know the castle well enough yet.
But, you manage to find your way to Tharja's wing.
You creep down the dark corridor to the passageway.
The library is to your right.
You go straight ahead.
You hope you won't cause him undue stress from entering like this.
He did give you permission to enter. It was his fault if it became a problem.
You push open the door to Tharja's room with a creak.
It's dark, the candle really doesn't afford you much light.
But, you see him.
There's no window in this room. His bed lacks a canopy.
You see him sleeping peacefully. You hear his gentle breathing.
He looks so handsome…
You see there is one part of him that is definitely not asleep!
His manhood is erect, creating a very pleasant tent in the sheets.
You step a little closer, letting the door swing shut behind you.
You set the candle down on his desk so that you won't possibly drip wax on him.
You almost want to pet it hello.
You start to reach out your hand to do just that, when Tharja's eyes open.
It happens so suddenly you can't help but gasp.
He heard you come in pretended to still be asleep!
You see him grin in the candlelight.
"Mm… like what you see, Edwys?" he asks.
…Yes, you say, tone demure.
You snuck into here, but being caught so red-handedly admiring your husband's stalk makes you blush.
He thrusts his hips a little, making himself twitch.
"Have you heard of this? Men get this way in the morning… it's called 'morning wood'."
…No, you hadn't heard that.
You're a little surprised to hear there's a name for it, that, and that it's so innocuous of one.
'Morning wood', you repeat.
"…will you satisfy me, my wife?"
You nod, vigorously.
He closes his eyes, grin plastered on his face.
"Use your mouth," he says.
… Use your… mouth?
You don't want that.
You wanted to feel him inside you, between your thighs and thrusting his hips.
You're not going to feel any pleasure just using your mouth.
Besides that, it definitely goes against what you were taught.
The Church says only sex with your husband to take his seed and make babies is permissible. Of course, your husband wasn't some chaste Saint and it was expected you would fulfill his needs, but some weird sex act that couldn't produce children was definitely a sin.
… Not to mention the training you'd received as a maiden taught you that you should never do that sort of thing with your husband, even once.
He'd like it, then he'd want you to do it again. And again. And again. Then, after you gave birth, he wouldn't properly come inside you when you were ready to bear your second child with him.
You definitely didn't want to risk that.
You watch his tented member bob again.
He hadn't asked you. He'd commanded you. Being obedient to your husband was certainly correct.
But, you wanted pleasure, too…!
You pout, but his eyes are shut. Looking forlorn and hoping he changes his mind isn't going to do it.
In that case…
>Raise your voice and ask to have proper sex with him instead, please.
It's… really a very hard thing to do.
You're about to disobey your husband. That's not right.
…But, it's in pursuit of a greater, more important propriety.
The kind that will let you be a good mother and encourage him to sire your future children when your womb is again empty.
That thought allows you to summon up the strength to speak.
You cough lightly.
You raise your voice and tell him… you won't do that.
His eyes flutter open.
"What–?" he asks, half-asleep still.
You tell him you want to be held and penetrated by him… please.
You want to say something about how that's the only proper thing to do, and that you really want to feel his arms around you and be close to him… but, the words just won't come.
Your heart already aches from saying this much.
Not just that you're refusing him, but that you even need to refuse him.
The situation itself is wrong.
"Edwys, I had a really long day yesterday… I'm tired…" he starts to say, letting the words hang there.
The emotions are too much.
It's not right…!
He shouldn't be asking this sort of thing from you!
You're his wife–!
This mouth… someday, you'll kiss your children with this mouth…
… He stirs further, attention on you, closer to being fully awake.
You're not yelling, your voice never rises above a hushed whisper.
–But you can't help the intensity of your tone.
Please. Don't ask you to do something so… wrong.
You want to be taken as a man takes his wife.
…You don't say that last part out loud.
It'd be an insult to him and yourself if you did.
Of course you had dignity. Sex with your husband was dignified. Him asking you to use your mouth hadn't been meant to rob you of any dignity.
…But, being your husband's sexual partner was far from your only role. Focusing too much on that may distract you from the others.
You had to remember that, always.
He sits up, lifting his sheets.
–Ah. He's not wearing night-clothes.
"Come closer, Edwys," he says, beckoning you.
… You nod, and step closer.
His hands reach out and start to undress you.
Fingers find the ties of your robe and let them loose.
You let it fall to the floor behind you, and he drinks in the sight of your nearly naked body.
Just being watched like this is enough to start to make your ladybits tingle.
"Will you do the rest for me, Edwys?"
You bare your breasts and expose your slit to the air for him, stepping out your feet from your slippers and fallen panties.
Tharja takes your arm and guides you to bed.
"I understand… I won't ask you to do something like that, ever again," he says.
… You murmur a grateful 'thank you'.
Despite being right, you feel a little guilty for being selfish enough to deny him to his face.
But… you shouldn't regret it.
Starting down that path was too much.
Tharja talked of 'corrupting' you… but you don't want that sort of corruption.
You're a good woman. You're a good wife. You'll be a good mother.
The old King will be satisfied. Tharja will be satisfied. You will be satisfied.
Your eyes fall to the outline of his lean, toned body and catch sight of his hard manhood, previously tented.
You can't help but smile.
You will be satisfied!
You roll onto your back on the bed.
He's thrown the covers off.
If anyone entered the room, they'd see you easily.
…But, no one will.
You're modest, but you don't need to be that modest.
He raises a hand to your cheek and strokes your flesh tenderly.
You close your eyes, letting him touch you.
His touch is soft, like he was appraising an apple's freshness before consuming it.
You feel the mattress move underneath you both as he shifts his weight.
Then, his lips are on yours.
He groans into you, licking your lips with his tongue.
You oblige him the kiss, parting your lips.
You barely have to open them at all before his tongue is inside your mouth.
Thrusting, licking, and coiling all over like an invader.
You can't help but arch your back.
You hold your breath as you raise your tongue up to meet his. Offering it to him.
He enthusiastically 'pounces' on it, wrapping around you until you can't help but let out a little muffled moan.
As quickly as it started, it's over.
Tharja separates, gasping for air, and you join him.
…But only for a moment.
His lips are soon on yours again.
He's showing you such passion…
You really were a selfish woman.
Sometimes you wished Tharja was a little stronger, a little taller, a little more muscular. He wasn't skinny, but his physique was subtle. The guards easily dwarfed him with their trained bodies and large figures.
…Of course, you never permitted yourself to fantasize about another man. That would be a disgusting sin of adultery in spirit.
But, there were times you wished his arms were a little stronger and his chest was a little thicker.
Now was not one of those times.
Submitting yourself to the strong muscle of his tongue was more than enough to drown those thoughts and chase them from your mind.
You're… definitely lubricating yourself for him, now.
… Unfortunately, pain suddenly intrudes on the moment.
… Tharja put his hands on your breasts and started kneading.
Before you knew what what happening you cried out in pain.
You whimper a bit as the jolt passes through your body.
Tharja's broken off your kiss, face concerned.
"Are you all right?" he asks.
Yes, but your breasts are sore.
They're sore… because they'll soon be filled with milk for your baby.
He gently reaches and strokes the underside of your left breast with one finger, flicking it up to the aerolae and your erect nipple.
Even that's too much!
He retracts it, grinning.
You fix him with a stare and pout, relentlessly.
He finally apologizes, and swears he'll be gentle.
He should be.
It's your baby's precious milk after all.
… This likely means he won't be able to hug you strongly anytime soon.
He mistakes your forlorn expression at that thought for further anguish and tries petting your midsection instead.
… That's a good substitute.
You gladly submit to the petting.
He traces his hands around your stomach in a circle, settling around your belly button.
That's his child's home.
That's where he'll spend the next eight or nine months.
He traces lower still.
His hands spill over your pubic hair into your slick center.
His fingers freely poke at your orifice. You can't help but quiver.
He brings his fingers to his mouth.
You can see they're stained with your aroused fluids.
You turn your head away.
You don't want to watch him lick his fingers.
He's done it before, and you tried to tell him that's… too obscene.
It's meant to guide his manhood.
But he laughed and denied actually tasting it. Saying he only acted as if to do it.
…You're not sure if he lied.
He laughs now too at seeing you fret, and says he was just making sure you were ready, again denying putting it to his mouth.
"How would you like it, Edwys?" he asks.
You want to be mounted.
You want to feel his hips between your thighs and grip your legs around his waist.
He gives you a hungry little smile.
"Well then…" he starts, prompting you.
He needn't say anything more.
You gladly spread your legs, feet flat against the mattress.
Tharja draws up and climbs on top of you, arms on both sides of you. You feel him settle into position, his upper body on yours.
You realize, with some sadness, you won't be able to have sex in this position much more soon.
Your belly will swell and prevent him from properly mounting you like this. You soon won't be able to know the feel of being under him.
But, it's a small price to pay for the sake of your children.
His manhood is between your legs.
It's probing along your lower lips in search of your opening.
You arch your back and bend your knees, trying to angle yourself to make it easier for him.
He grunts, and finds his mark.
You're being penetrated.
You can't hide your happiness.
He settles down on top of you, letting gravity pull himself inside you.
You shift with him, turning your hips from jutting outward to meet him to reclining back to envelope him.
Your vaginal muscles coax him further inside you.
His… penis… feels… so… good!
His pelvis meets yours as he reaches the full length of his manhood inside you.
The stroke stirring your womanhood and making you shudder.
You reach to wrap your arms around him. You can't pull him too close but…
You need to brace yourself with him to get your legs up.
You learned from sex with your husband that the actual act of getting your legs wrapped around his waist is rather difficult.
You couldn't shift your hips because he's penetrated you with his stalk like a flower with a pin.
You reach out with your legs and wrap for all you're worth.
You get your ankles crossed behind him. Nestled firmly on his rump.
You're so proud of yourself you almost don't realize Tharja's been patiently waiting for you to get settled.
You blink up at his face and see a wicked twinkle in his eye.
He starts thrusting his hips.
Of course, with you wrapped around him, he doesn't have much choice but to drag you along for the ride.
Your entire body ripples with the force of his slow movements.
Though the thrusts don't remain slow for long.
You struggle on keeping your legs wrapped tight as you savor the feeling of sex with your husband.
The rhythmic meeting of your crotches and the accompanying sounds of your folds squelching around his member.
The symphony of little moans, grunts, and gasps you share.
The feeling of being filled… of knowing you're whole… of fulfilling your role.
You were sheath to his sword.
His other half.
Mother to his future children.
You were born for this…!
…Your brain must have sent your happy thoughts to your love-canal.
Tharja suddenly lets out a moan that you suddenly feel tighter.
You're trying desperately to keep your legs bound, but you understand…
Tighter is better for him. You can't be a virgin for him anymore… but you can try to pleasure him with your body and mind.
You try to conjure up those happy feelings and focus on them as his thrusts get even more erratic and frenzied.
You think this would normally be the time he starts whispering arousing nothings to you…
…but he doesn't have the wits for that.
You've caught him off-guard in the early morning, after-all.
His body starts to twitch.
He's about to come, you realize.
You try to push your mind back to a time you hadn't realized you were pregnant.
When every ejaculation you took had the potential to fertilize you.
Oh, you loved those days!
You let your mind retreat to that happy place as your body starts moving on it's own.
Your legs exhaust themselves tightening around his waist. Your hands grope at his back.
…Yor pussy positively throbs with pleasure.
Constricting hard as you pass your peak and coo with the excitement of your orgasm.
Your back and chin arch desperately as Tharja hilts himself inside you and stops moving.
He's coming inside you.
His virile seed spilling forth into your wet, pulsating crevasse.
You'd give anything to know it could take root a second time, make it so you were carrying twins.
You wouldn't stop your sex with him then, even if you became swollen with a hundred babies.
The thought is enough to make you shudder even more as you surrender to the ecstasy.
Tharja remembers your chest is sore and sinks in a way to avoid putting pressure on it.
…You reluctantly let your legs fall apart.
Your legs feel so sore…
You don't doubt you'll be walking bowlegged all day.
The castle will be full of the rumors of the rutting you shared with Tharja. And when you're already known to be pregnant, at that.
"Ah… that was… worth waking up early for, my Edwys…" you hear him say.
… Let them talk, you think to yourself.
You tell Tharja hearing that makes you so happy…
You thank him profusely for his seed.
You always want to encourage him to sow it properly inside you.
You must thank him
You feel his hand trace along your face.
It's not the hand he touched your opening with.
You can tell by the masculine scent.
You shut your eyes and let him touch.
…He suddenly stops, then rolls to the side, off of you.
You open your head and turn your head to watch him.
He's letting himself fall back asleep.
You're sad, but you can't let yourself fall asleep with him.
He has his own responsibilities during the day. He's the prince and his heir is on the way.
You should feel thankful he made time for you, indulged your desire, and gave you pleasure.
Better still he thought you very pleasurable. He'd be likely to do it again.
You smile at that thought and gently roll to the side of the bed.
You move to put your underthings, robe, and slippers back on.
You… gingerly try to position yourself to hold as much of his seed as possible.
You don't want to wipe it out.
But neither can you drip it down the halls in a trail back to your room.
Hopefully it won't get farther than your thighs.
You start to stand yourself up… and nearly topple.
Your legs really are feeling sore. You'll have no choice but to walk with a wider gait.
You… discreetly move an arm up your sleeve, leaving it empty.
You move to hold your hand over your crevasse, clothed by a moistening stretch of fabric.
… You'll have to move while holding it inside you.
You start to shuffle toward the door and, as quietly as you can, let yourself out.
There's an old man in the treasury.
You vaguely remember him.
You think he was there when the mercenaries brought you to the castle gates.
But, there was some sort of disagreement about the coin and you were so scared out of your wits you ran into the castle until you were out of breath.
…Thankfully a maid gave you your things back from them later.
At any rate, he recognizes you.
He gives you a pleasant greeting and asks what he can do for you.
…He's the treasurer, right?
"Yes, Your Highness, I'm the master of coin."
You don't see any jewels.
You tell him the King said you could pick out some jewelry.
He nods, and directs you to a door to a back room.
…You're a little nervous at the thought of being alone with an older man.
You tell him you want the jewelry brought to you.
"Your Highness, the room is full of it. More than my brittle bones can carry."
Hearing him describe himself as feeble helps your courage, as does hearing the room is full of jewels for you to peruse.
…You glance at his left hand. You don't see a wedding ring.
Being alone with an old bachelor feels distasteful. Even if he is no threat to you.
He seems to have picked up on your reluctance.
"Your Highness, I swear. I am a simple servant of the Crown. No more, no less. You have nothing to fear from me."
… You suppose he means to say if he at all made to lay his hands on you, the King and Tharja would roast him alive.
You still hesitate.
Being alone in private with another man… it's just not done.
With the mercenaries you were in the wilderness away from civilization, but you have no excuse here.
"How about this, Your Highness? Go fetch a guard and tell him Ricardo needs his presence in the treasury. He will follow you. Then, you won't be alone. Is that acceptable?"
… You suppose it sounds so.
He nods back, and says he will arrange the back room a little more so you can select what you want and leave, quickly.
He rises from his chair, bows, and goes into the back room.
Once he's gone, you start to reconsider.
A soldier would be another man. You doubt you'll find a woman soldier. Wasn't that just as bad as being alone with one man?
Maybe you should bring a maid with you instead.
Daniella. She would be perfect, if you could find her.
Then again, maybe you are being silly.
It was by the King's order you were allowed down here. That must mean he trusted this old man to be alone with you.
Maybe telling someone about it would just draw more attention to it.
You'd really like to find Tharja to escort you, but you doubt you'd find him no matter how hard you looked, so you rule that out.
>Find Daniella to accompany you.
You decide to go searching for Daniella.
She'll understand. She'll surely help you.
You climb up the stairs to the treasury and look around.
A noblewoman does not run, but you do step a little quicker in the direction of the servants' quarters.
You find a maid who tells you where Daniella is.
You find her wiping a table in one of the sitting rooms.
She stops what she's doing and curtsys.
"Do you require something, Your Highness?"
You explain your situation to Daniella.
She heard the King give his promise to allow you in the treasury.
She's happy to assist you.
She puts her rag in her apron and invites you to follow her.
You feel better already.
There's a spring in your step as you return to the treasury.
Yes, you were a good wife. A proper wife who wouldn't allow herself to be alone with a man who wasn't a family member or her husband.
You deserved good things for being so dutiful.
That was why you were getting jewelry to wear.
Thoughts like that occupy you as you proceed back down the treasury steps, following Daniella.
You reach the bottom of the stairs.
The old man isn't here. He must still be in the back.
Daniella says she will knock on that door, and does so.
You watch the old man pull the door open.
You then witness a peculiar sight.
As the old man recognizes that he's facing Daniella, a maid, and not a guard, his face twists in… some sort of negative emotion.
It's not quite 'anger', but you're not sure you could name it.
You'd maybe call it a combination of 'disgust' and 'fear'.
… But that didn't make any sense.
How could someone fear Daniella?
Before you can think too much about it, his expression is replaced with a neutral one.
He turns to you.
"…You have a strange idea of what a guard looks like, Your Highness."
You don't need to explain yourself to him.
You'd like to please select what you're entitled to, you say.
His nostrils flare and he ushers you and Daniella inside.
He's careful to keep his hands nowhere near you or Daniella.
You see stacks of parchments in many numerous barrels.
…You then instantly disregard them when you spy the boxes full of bracelets, necklaces, precious gems, rings, pins, and more and more and more!!
You almost lose your composure at seeing all the beautiful things in front of you.
This… this is all yours to choose from??
The old man nods.
"…Yes, Your Highness. Take what you like, return it when you like," he says.
There's so much of it…
The room isn't very well lit. Only a few candles.
But the shiny metal is undeniably attractive.
Your eyes are drawn to a beautiful gold ring.
Why wasn't that your wedding ring??
That… that thought was sinful.
You take a deep breath, and push it from your mind. You're glad you recognized the sin before it took too strong a hold of you.
Your silver ring was your bond of matrimony. There would never be anything like it.
You let out your breath. The excitement you had was killed by that disgusting thought, and rightly so.
It was only jewelry.
You couldn't take the entire room with you. You'd look like some rich commoner's wife obsessed with opulence. You'd better limit what you take.
… Until you wanted more.
…but what to take now…
It all looks so nice.
You pick up some bracelets, then set them down.
You pick up some pins.
These look nice, but you're used to wearing your hair loose.
You set them back down.
You pick up some necklaces, then set them down.
It's hard because none of it is organized.
You're not seeing any cohesive style in them. They all look like they were made for a variety of different outfits and thrown together. Sloppy organization.
… You can't help but be conscious of that old man watching you.
Can't he leave?
… You don't phrase the question to him that way, of course.
You ask if he would please allow you to select what you want without watching you, in peace.
He bows his head, but refuses.
"I need to keep track of what you take for the records, Your Highness," he says.
Oh… then why can't you tell him after you pick it out?
He doesn't have an answer.
Daniella speaks up.
"The princess will gladly tell you what she removes afterward," she says.
There's a palpable pause before he turns and leaves the room, leaving you and Daniella alone.
That lets you pick out things easier.
In the end, you pick out a very nice silver necklace, bracelet, and an elegant fan, studded with emeralds.
You'll need it with the warm summer months coming soon.
"That's a very lovely set you've chosen, Your Highness," compliments Daniella.
That's why you like Daniella.
You step out with Daniella and show the old man what you're taking.
He doesn't even bother to look interested, he stays at his desk with his quill and parchment.
Still, you are polite, so you thank him for his help. You inform him you'll come back if you feel the need.
"Yes, Your Highness… any time," he says.
You depart with Daniella.
Before you let her go, you have her show you to the throne room.
You want to get a closer look at the royal circlet.
She does, retrieving it from its crystal case for you.
No, you think not.
It's gold. Even if it didn't clash with your silver things, it wouldn't look right with your hair color. That, and it looks uncomfortable.
Maybe a daughter of yours can one day wear it.
You thank Daniella for her help, dismissing her.
She returns the circlet to the case and wishes you a pleasant day.
You do feel confident and attractive in your new jewelry, but it doesn't last.
Tharja misses lunch.
It's enough to make you want to cry.
Worse still, the maids have no idea where he is.
You take two bites of your meal and then declare yourself full.
You go back to your room to reflect.
You sit yourself on your bed, staring at the ceiling.
You did feel more like a princess…
And dealing with your husband being away was just another part of being his wife.
You remind yourself that.
You turn upright in the bed, and see the chamber pot set out for you.
… You feel your stomach churn.
You immediately drop to the floor, overcome with 'any-time-of-the-day sickness'.
It's not pleasant; you've lost the little bit of the meal you ate.
You curse yourself and vow never to look at a chamber pot ever again.
You while away the rest of the day alternating between feeling sick, pining for your husband, and posing with your new jewelry in the mirror. You also say a few prayers asking forgiveness for the various wrongs you did recently.
You have a maid help remove your clothes and braid your hair and so you can bed down for the night.
Tharja never does visit you. You suppose that's too bad.
Tomorrow's another day though… another day you become closer to being a mother.
Despite it all, the thought excites you and cheers you up.
You wake up the next morning.
You startle yourself awake by rolling on to your chest.
You try to will yourself back to bed, but it;s not soon before a maid comes.
You have her fit you into your dress and let down your hair.
You'll be joining Tharja soon for breakfast.
You're eager to see him again.
But, you wonder what you should plan for the day.
Tharja will probably have his own things to do, after all.
You rule out picking out more jewelry, yet.
You think that old man was probably annoyed with your visit, and the things you have are very nice. You'll wait a week at least before possibly rotating it.
>Plan to explore Tharja's library.
You are curious about your husband's library…
You decide you'll focus on that today.
You leave your fan and hat behind, you won't need them if you're staying inside.
…But you do take your jewelry. You'll need that.
You depart for the sitting room.
To your delight, Tharja is there to answer the door when you knock.
You say hello, putting an almost flirtatious tone in your greeting.
He laughs, and asks if you're enjoying your new 'toys'.
You can't deny they do help you feel a little prettier.
You sit down and eat breakfast together. Tharja gets toast with egg, you get toast with delicious blackberries.
You talk about the old man in the treasury a little bit who gave you your jewelry and how nervous you were.
"Thst's Ricardo. You needn't worry about him, dear. –Was he rude to you?" Tharja asks.
…Well, no, not exactly.
He didn't say anything rude, technically.
He seemed a little impatient but that was it.
"Good. The King keeps him on a tight leash. …The King keeps everyone on a tight leash, in fact."
You can feel it, the bitterness in his voice.
You decide to just eat.
There's a pause before Tharja asks if you're feeling better.
…Your heart can't help but melt a little at him asking about you.
You tell him knowing you're carrying his child is more than enough to make you feel better.
He smiles happily.
"Me too. When I'm feeling run down, I just think of you, my wife, with my child growing in her belly."
He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his.
You almost feel like swooning.
The attention makes you feel prettier than any jewelry could.
It's too soon before he lets go.
Tharja encourages you to eat more, to maintain your strength.
You have been skimping on eating recently. You find a bit of an appetite enough to finish your fruit and toast.
You ask Tharja if he had any plans for the day.
You had given thought to exploring his library.
"It's always open to you, Edwys. But unfortunately I have something I need to do today."
That's that, then.
If he wanted you to know, he would've told you.
You dare not show any brashness by asking.
Tharja does, however, stay long enough to help you to your feet, and open the door for you.
Your husband is a true gentleman.
"I will hope to see you at lunch, Edwys," he says.
You smile, though inwardly you know he's just saying that. He could easily have something to do.
You'd best not get your hopes up.
You start to take short steps in the direction of Tharja's wing.
You have to stop and ask a maid on the way for a candle, but you manage finding it well enough after finding your way there in the early morning yesterday.
Tharja's wing truly is dark.
The corridor barely allows any light, and the second passage doesn't have any windows at all.
You pull open the door to the library and step inside.
Tharja's library is impressive… as far as libraries go.
There's a great many books here.
You're not much of a reader, but you do need more ways to pass the time.
You carefully guide yourself around by candle-light.
You know it's impossible, but you feel like one moment of clumsiness could burn the entire room.
You're not sure where you should look first.
You have no idea how the library is actually organized.
You could search for a specific type of book, or just take one randomly.
But what sort of subject might interest you…? You're not even sure where to start there.
You could look for something regarding maternity, you suppose.
But then, your friend the midwife would hopefully have lots to tell you about that.
Maybe you could find some book of etiquette to read.
You pride yourself on your manners and decorum, but perhaps there's some Ruhemanian custom you don't know about. It might impress the King if you were to know it.
>Leave it to random chance and take a random book to read until you find one that interests you.
>Look for a book that would have information on maternity.
>Look for a book that would have information on etiquette.
Honestly, option 3 is probably the most useful choice for the near term future. We have months before the maternity book is needs to be finished (assuming that it's there at all)
Option 3! I'm with the anon before me…
I will also vote for Option 3!
>2 votes for option two, look for a book that would have information on maternity.
>4 votes for option three, look for a book that would have information on etiquette.
Look for an etiquette book.
Poll closed. Update soon.
You decide to look for a book on propriety and etiquette.
You do want to impress the King. That, and your new friend will certainly be pleased if you know the proper manners for socializing with other aristocrats.
You trail along the book cases, looking for any peculiar books.
You do manage to find one book that catches your eye. 'How to select the best handmaiden.'
The other books look more like they're written for men on how to be proper servants to the King.
This was much more practical for you.
You gently pull it free from the shelf and take it with you.
You had passed on the opportunity to receive any personal servants, but…
Someday, Tharja would be King.
You could have as many servants as you liked then.
It would be imperative that you know how to select the best.
You have a seat at one of the desks in the library.
You flip open the pages and start reading.
It is rather fascinating.
It talks about how more than skill or technique, what matters most in selecting the best handmaiden is personality.
Skill could be learned. Technique would be acquired. Personality was innate.
You read over the various ones.
First there was the handmaiden who was dull of mind and slow of manner. Although unsuitable for complicated tasks, such a handmaiden could no doubt be trusted with the daily drudgery of work. Her simple mind would keep her loyal, her lack of imagination would keep her from becoming bored.
It's an interesting take on the subject. You were bored with the older, taciturn maids, but you can't deny the book's logic.
Second is the handmaiden who is excitable in manner and hasty in deed. This handmaiden will freely take any opportunity to talk, and talk, and talk. Although the babble may prove distracting, this was the sort of handmaiden well-suited for personal tasks that require her being close to the noblewoman. Such as brushing one's hair. The talk will make the time seem to pass quicker, and such handmaidens are usually very grateful for the ear.
You're not sure about that take on the subject. A servant who talked too much would just be irritating.
There is one type of handmaiden who is outright dangerous. This is the handmaiden who possesses a golden ear and a silver tongue. This handmaiden may or may not be dutiful, but she happily sits and listens to any and all manner of talk that the noblewoman may have to say, only speaking up to deliver a compliment to the lady's judgment, taste, or beauty. She rarely if ever initiates conversation, and could certainly never be called 'gabby', but is all-too-happy to be a good listener.
–That passage describes Daniella almost perfectly.
You blink, your breath catching in your throat.
How could that be dangerous…?
You read on.
This handmaiden hears, and remembers. She keeps a mental record of your every utterance for future reference. If she is not a spy reporting your secrets to someone else, she will someday become one.
Could it be true?
Compliments from a servant are like honey. Sweet, but too much leaves one sick. Beware any servant who seems too keen to listen to your daily troubles and provide a tender comment which puts you in a good mood. It may be comforting, and their words flattering, but a proper servant knows it is not their rightful place. A servant who acts too pleasant secretly believes herself to be your true master.
You shut the book.
Your head is spinning.
Was Daniella's kindness all a ruse?
–You can't help but think it would make some sort of sense that she were repeating things you said to the King.
He was her master, not you.
But Daniella had always been so sweet…
You don't want to think there was any purpose behind it other than kind consideration.
Besides… you were just some silly spoiled foreign princess.
What would anything from your lips tell the King?
You think you've lost track of the time.
You decide to leave the book at the desk.
It might have more interesting things to tell you, but you don't want to take it with you.
You'll decide later to come back and read it or not.
But more than that, you had to decide what to do.
Daniella isn't your servant, but you do encounter her a fair bit.
Should you take what you read to heart, or not?
>The book is wrong. She's the closest you have to a friend. Push it out of your mind and don't alter your interactions with Daniella.
>The book is right. She's obviously been spying. Avoid speaking with Daniella any more and shut your ears to her compliments.
>… You're not sure if the book is right or not, but you could stand not to speak so freely with Daniella, at least. Just in case.
Option 3. Metagaming, we could guess that this Daniella is making sure we're not a witch, but Edwys knows nothing of that.
Option one. We have no reason to suspect that Daniella is our or Tharja's enemy. And I for one hope that at least in this universe we get a sex scene with her.
Oh? What's this? My mortal enemy appears to have survived and is up to her old tricks. I see now that leaving you to rot at the bottom of that pit was too merciful a punishment for your fanaticism, witch-hunter.
And now you're seeking to terrorize yet another being simply because you assume she's already ascended? Let's hope you aren't foolish enough to make the same mistakes here in this universe, Ahahahahahahaha!
Well, so long, for now. We'll reunite sweet and soon. I promise, Ahaha!
Option 3. Let's take it with a grain of salt. We can watch and pay attention to see if there's anything that might seem suspicious.
Trying very hard not to metagame… it's probably unwise to be completely open with Daniella (or any non-royal).
Daniella's a friend but we can be friendly without being indiscreet about sensitive matters.
Guarding secrets is part of a queen's job, and we need to develop it, like any skill - Our Guile Level is definitely 0 right now. Edwys would surely be mortified if anything she said was later used against Tharja, so being more careful is a smart idea.
Option 4; ask Tharja. In the meanwhile, Option 3.
>1 vote for option one, ignore the book's advice and engage Daniella how you have been.
>7 votes for option three, be a little more guarded in your words to Daniella.
>1 vote for write-in, ask Tharja for his opinion.
Guard your words to Daniella a little more carefully.
Poll closed. Update soon.
You can't help but think it's a little presumptuous to judge a person by what you read in a book about their 'type'.
Even a servant like Daniella.
Even if she wasn't intentionally spying, things you say to her might be repeated somewhere else. At some future time.
You'll be a little more careful with your words to her.
Surely that couldn't hurt…
You depart the library feeling a little more burdened than when you entered it.
Over the next few days, you experiment with your plan regarding Daniella.
You hold back on being so chatty.
You still answer her direct questions and talk pleasantly about the day, but you stop yourself from babbling mindlessly about whatever pops into your head.
…It does take some effort on your part.
Tharja continues to miss meals and you don't have anyone else to talk to.
You try to tell yourself it's just practice for appearing more stately, like a princess.
Daniella for her part doesn't seem to notice, or so you think.
But one day…
Your tailor is coming soon. You definitely don't want to put greasy hair on new clothes. You want your hair to be clean and beautiful.
You decide to wash your hair and ask Daniella if she will help you, which she does.
It started out normally enough.
She prepared a room with a basin of water and gathered some linen and combs. A bit of oil and herbs too.
You slip out of your clothes and have a sit with your head back.
It does feel nice to let yourself into the water and let a little of the weight off of you.
You lie back and let Daniella do the hard work.
It's at some point after when you're alone and naked with Daniella that she asks, suddenly.
"Your Highness… did something happen?"
You chance to turn your head to glance at her.
What did she mean, you ask?
You do your best to feign innocence and ignorance.
Daniella's hands run through the water and your hair.
"Apologies, but your mood has taken a turn as of late. Have you been feeling any… unpleasantness?"
You can't help but hold your breath.
It was just a little question, but it had the potential to turn many different ways.
You can't just say you read a book and think Daniella might be a spy.
You can't bring yourself to get worked up and screech at her to mind her own business when you're so… naked.
You decide you'll tell her a half-truth, at least.
You owe Daniella that much.
>Well, you are pregnant, after all! Claim you're feeling sickness from your pregnancy as an excuse for not being talkative.
>You miss Tharja when he's not there. Claim being separated from your husband is affecting your mood.
>You're homesick. Claim being removed from your native Virilia for so long is making you sad.
Hey, this thing is still alive. Let's go with Option 2, though I wonder if maybe we were being paranoid before.
>2 votes for option one, claim the changes of pregnancy has affected your mood.
>2 votes for option two, claim being separated from Tharja has affected your mood.
We have a tie.
I will leave the vote up a little longer and come back to it later. If there is still a tie, I will flip a coin to decide the result.
Please do not feel any pressure to change your vote. Changing your vote will not make the update come faster.
Totally forgot to vote DX
>3 votes for option one, claim the changes of pregnancy has affected your mood.
>2 votes for option two, claim being separated from Tharja has affected your mood.
Claim the changes of pregnancy have altered your mood.
Tie broken. Poll closed. Update soon.
You don't need to fret.
You have the perfect excuse.
You feign letting out a sigh and confess to Daniella that it must be the toll of your pregnancy that is affecting your mood.
Daniella says nothing for a moment, and when she does, her voice is soft.
"I see. I apologize for speaking out of turn, Your Highness."
It was really the best excuse, wasn't it?
You slept too late? Pregnancy.
You slept too little? Pregnancy.
You wanted to eat too much? Pregnancy.
You wanted to eat too little? Pregnancy.
It could be used for anything. You wouldn't have to ever invent some other reason for your behavior.
Feeling very clever, you relax yourself and let Daniella wash your hair.
You can't help smiling at having maneuvered out of that dilemma.
If Daniella is a spy, the King won't hear anything of you from her other than your pregnancy is progressing.
Though it does leave the time you have to spend with her… rather boring.
You have nothing to do but to wait as Daniella works.
At least you won't have to be disappointed at not seeing Tharja today.
By the time you're done, sunset is approaching.
You can't help asking Daniella at least if she thinks your bump is developing yet.
"I'm sure your belly will develop into a spectacular bump, Your Highness."
It's so nice a comment you actually feel guilty for being so close-lipped.
You have your hair put in a cap and go to take your rest.
A week passes. The tailor does eventually arrive. He's an older man, and you're nervous at first meeting. You hardly want a repeat at the upheaval of emotion you felt when you had to spend time alone with the master of coin. The prospect of being touched by him when you're being fitted gives you an appropriate amount of nerves.
Fortunately, it's soon clear you don't have to be handled by him directly. Two older maids are present who actually do the measuring and fitting.
Having a person so dedicated to helping you look good does help you feel like a real princess.
Though you're disappointed when he explains making new clothes will take time.
Meanwhile, he asks what sort of alterations or additions you would like to the clothes you already have.
This was your chance to finally have any jewels you like embroidered.
Your chest… has been feeling sore lately.
You knew it was a sign your breasts were getting ready to be full of milk for your pregnancy. It filled you with pride and joy, but made your clothes feel constricting none-the-less.
You had solved the problem by not having your bodice laced quite so tight, but it provided little relief.
Maybe you should ask for that, first?
Of course you'll have him do both eventually, but you should pick one to bring up first.
>You want to look better first. Request the tailor to add more jewels to your clothes.
>You want to feel better first. Request the tailor to alter your dresses to accommodate your expanding bosom.
I vote for option 1. Great side story Aristo!
Option 1 because it's more in line with edwina's character so far.
Will see how tight the clothes are after she wears them~
Option 2. All the gems in the world won't be worth anything if she can't wear the clothes. Plus, let's be honest, King Vlad is going to get a report about all this, and I think he'd prefer to hear that Edwina is being sensible.
Option two. Just because I hope for much more growth to come :)
Option 2. And maybe it can show a little. XD
>4 votes for option one, ask the tailor to add jewels to your clothes.
>4 votes for option two, ask the tailor to loosen your clothes to account for your expanding chest.
We have a tie.
I will leave the vote up a little longer and come back to it later. If there is still a tie, I will flip a coin to decide the result.
Please do not feel any pressure to change your vote. Changing your vote will not make the update come faster.
I have flipped a coin. The result is:
>Option one, ask the tailor to add jewels to your clothes.
Poll closed. Update soon.
… You mustn't get ahead of yourself.
Your breasts weren't that swollen yet. It would be a waste for the tailor to alter your clothes every week.
That could be put off easily.
In the meantime…
…You want to look pretty.
The aristocrat summoned to be your midwife will be here in a week.
You're sure you'll make a good impression if you look the part of being a princess.
She'll be happier to serve you if you look like someone worth serving.
With that in mind…
… You still can't help hesitating.
You know the King gave you permission, but you hope you don't sound too greedy.
Anxiety wells in your chest until you finally find the inner strength to push it aside.
You tell the tailor you would like some jewels from the treasury embroidered to your clothes… please.
He nods, not at all acting like you've made an outlandish request.
He even suggests you both go to the treasury to pick what you would like out, immediately.
The two other maids are present, so you don't feel nearly as uncomfortable as you did on your first visit to the treasury.
The treasurer, however, seems uncomfortable with your presence.
Though he does allow you in to select what you want, he doesn't leave the room while you do the selecting.
It really is too bad Daniella isn't with you to chase him off.
You just want to look at all the jewelry in peace.
Finally you select some lovely little stones. Nothing quite too precious, but enough to make your dress be set apart.
No one, even from a distance, will doubt you are a princess once your clothes look like this.
You exchange pleasantries with the old man and leave him to his work.
You're so happy, you feel almost in a mind to sing.
Of course, it will take some time before the tailor's work is done.
You decide to go see how the construction on your garden is coming.
So you return to your room to get dressed in your outside clothes.
The weather is brisk, but warm.
It takes you a little direction to find out just where the plot of your future flower garden will be.
When you do see it, you can scarcely believe your eyes.
You imagined just a little plot… a bench to read, and perhaps some colorful little areas to look at. Perhaps enough to walk around and admire.
But what you see is a collection of peasants working on raising a large structure around the outside of the castle.
They have tools you recognize as being used for gardening, and digging.
This was going to be a grand project!
It's enough to make you tremble with nervousness and wonder if you made the right choice.
You don't doubt it will be beautiful, but… all for you?
You'd rather not try to approach the peasants.
You might distract them… or be overcome with weakness and become a burden to them.
Instead, you wish them a prayer of gratitude from the bottom of your heart.
This garden was going to be grand!
Unfortunately, the good mood that came from your interactions with the tailor and seeing the flower garden doesn't last long.
Tharja doesn't join you for lunch.
The maid however says he sends his message that he is thinking fondly of you while he fulfills his royal obligations.
…Ones that don't involve you, you can't help but think.
You feel rather melancholy.
When the maid reveals your lunch, you can't help but not feel hungry.
You force yourself to eat a few bites, and declare yourself full.
Hopefully he'll be the first to admire your new dress.
You want him to at least think of you as a suitable wife.
One who will stand by him when he is King and be regal.
Yes, that was your role. What you were always meant to be…
You sigh and go to bed early that night.
You wake up long after sunset.
After lying back on your bed with your eyes shut, you finally give in and sit up.
You're… not feeling satisfied.
You take out your tinderbox and light a candle by your bed.
You use the light to guide you while you put on your robe and slippers.
What were you hungry for, most?
>The lunch wasn't satisfying. Go to the kitchen and see if you can have something prepared for you to eat.
>Going so long without seeing Tharja wasn't satisfying. Find your way to his quarters and… visit.
Option two. I'm betting there is a secret to be revealed in this universe too :)
Feels like seeing tharja will help mc feel better, allowing her to eat normally
Option 2, because snooping can be very informative. Or we get lucky. XD
Option two, for sure.
>4 votes for option two, visit Tharja.
That's who you were missing.
You decide to dare a repeat of your previous adventure.
You pick up the candle and step out into the halls, your slippers muffling your steps.
You can hear your heart beating in your chest.
Perhaps Tharja will awaken and embrace you like you prefer to be held…
The idea makes tempts you to think very unchaste thoughts as you find your way to his wing.
You slowly creep toward his room.
You know at least he won't be upset with you visiting him like this.
At the very least… he'll perhaps tell you he's tired.
Even then, perhaps you could venture to sleep with him? Literally if not euphemistically.
You push open the door to his room…
The candle doesn't give much light, so you're forced to get closer to see him.
Your heart has moved on from your chest and practically wants to jump out of your mouth with how excited you are to see your husband again.
You blink your eyes.
Once, twice. But the picture doesn't change.
Tharja's bed is empty.
It's unmade, but…
You put your hand on the sheets.
Was it possible he just got up, perhaps to go to the pantry to snack?
If so, the bed would be warm.
The sheets are… cold.
Either he left the room some time ago, or…
He never came back to his room to sleep for the night.
But if that's the case, where is he?!
Was he even in the castle?
You can't help but sniff your nose, feeling so very disappointed… and lonely.
You had more than half-convinced yourself Tharja would be paying attention to you soon.
You can feel your ladybits still tingling from your naughty expectations.
Maybe… maybe he really had gotten up for some reason?
Maybe he would soon be back.
Would it be terrible to wait in his bed for him?
He'd be glad to see you.
At least… you'd like to think so.
Not to mention the idea of being able to relax where Tharja sleeps… it does sound romantic.
Though you may just end up wasting the night away. You wouldn't mind falling asleep in here, but…
…It'd be embarrassing if you were overcome with morning sickness while you were in Tharja's room.
You look back at the door, then back at the bed, making your decision.
>Lie down in Tharja's bed and wait for him.
>Return back to your room.
Option one. Only advantage I see to option 2 is that Edwys might run into him (or someone else) on the way back to her room. He'll probably have to come back at some point in the night.
Option 1. We either get to snuggle, or we find out that he's not in bed for some reason.
Let's go with option 1
>3 votes for option one, lie down in Tharja's bed and wait for him.
Wait for Tharja to come back and lie in his bed in 'preparation'.
Poll closed. Update soon.
It's too much for you to bear.
Your husband being so close, yet so far away is more than your little heart can bear.
You take off your robe, letting it fall to the floor.
You follow up by stepping out of your slippers, sliding gently into the bed.
His scent surrounds you, penetrating your senses with its masculine scent.
This is where he sleeps…
You can't help but make out a satisfied little mewl as you curl up on the bedding, wrapping the sheets around your naked body.
You lie there motionless for several minutes, but…
Your ladybits are still tingling.
They won't stop.
You contemplate your hand.
It was… a sin… to pleasure oneself…
Were to Tharja to come back, you would merely be preparing yourself to fulfill your wifely duties for him.
That would make it all right… wouldn't it?
You bite your lip in contemplation…
By now you're no longer still, but squirming your legs and hips under the covers.
Yes… you were preparing yourself for Tharja…
And if you end up sinning for that…
Well, you've already committed a sin by contemplating it.
You shut your eyes, focusing on the smell of Tharja's scent and the softness of the sheets.
Then, you slowly lower your hand to your crotch…
You let out a shudder as your fingers touch yourself.
You're already getting wet…
It is truly a shame Tharja isn't here.
You would be able to provide him a fine penetration.
You rock yourself in bed, holding your hand still as you move your hips.
Yes, that's how you'll do it. It'll train you to actively help Tharja release his seed.
Your fingers rub up and down your feminine slit, providing you some very desire friction.
If only it were Tharja's cock…
You reach your other hand down and use two fingers to spread your labial lips a little more.
To stroke more than the bare outer-side of your lips, to reach the more sensitive inner labia.
You curl your knees a little more as you slide your pussy against your hand.
You're definitely leaking now, you can feel it coating your hand.
You dare to press on, rubbing yourself harder, and you can feel the hood of your clitoris…
The center and symbol of your femininity.
The hood is retracted a bit, your clit poking itself out from its hiding place, just a little.
You chance to rub it against the edge of your fingertips and let out a moan.
Of course, it wouldn't do to penetrate your opening by yourself.
That was reserved for your husband.
But this was very pleasant… yes, in fact it's very pleasant.
Your soft thighs close around your hand as you find a perfect place to rub yourself against.
With your hips making little rocking motions, you stroke yourself to deeper and deeper depths of pleasure.
Until the sounds of you rubbing your skin would be clearly audible if anyone else was in the room.
Ah… you really are… sinful…
But you can't stop.
You're getting too close.
Your clit isn't just puffy, it's hard and erect.
Your lips aren't just moist, they're swollen and wet.
All you can do is hope for Tharja to come in right now… to offer to fill you with his essence and make you his.
Your breathing becomes panting, your rocking hips becomes a full-body dance of lust.
Your chest is heaving, rising and falling with the shallow breaths you take.
Tears cloud your eyes and your face burns hot and red, along with the warmth between your legs.
You're so close!!
You bite your lower lip until you feel your jaw muscles ache.
You stop holding your hand still and openly rub it against your clit as hard as you can without it being uncomfortable.
You're so close to be satisfied… you can't stop now.
You try to hold in your cries, but little whines still manage to slip out.
Finally you feel your orgasm approaching.
Your palm grinds your pubic mound as you desperately try to get more contact.
You can feel it… your clitoris igniting under the heat of your hand and fingers.
It's building to a spark that will give you the release you so desperately seek… and need.
Aah.. aah… aah… mmm!!
You remember at the last moment to muffle yourself as your mind goes blank. The pleasure from your rubbing reaching its peak.
You can feel your toes curl against the bedding as ecstasy spreads throughout your body, from your crotch to your thighs, chest, and all the rest.
You arch your back against the bed as the spasms take control of your body, making you flex and tighten your feminine little muscles…
Aah… hah… haaah…
Your pants fill the room as you lie on your back, hair somewhat tangled behind you, but that's fine.
You spread your legs out in victory as your pussy finishes contracting… as if to milk a cock for its seed that isn't there.
A few more seconds and the intensity of the pleasure fades.
Leaving you with… loneliness.
Tharja isn't here… and… you just pleasured yourself, knowing he wasn't here.
You're a… terrible girl.
You huddle yourself under the covers, regretful of indulging your lust.
You can only hope no one learns of this shame.
…Yes, you must confess this and take the penance the Priest gives you.
You'll feel embarrassed to the extreme admitting your deed to him, but… perhaps then you can salvage some redemption.
You continue to lie waiting for Tharja.
Even if you were to give up on him returning, you don't want to risk exerting your muscles standing up and walking back after all that… exercise.
It's not long before you're simply too comfortable and you fall asleep.
>No choice yet. Further update coming soon.
You lie there in the quiet darkness of Tharja's room.
The candle you brought has long burned itself out. Some time must have passed.
You actually are confused as to the time and whether it's appropriate to get up.
You wonder how Tharja manages to sleep with a room like this.
… But then, that means he never came back?
Or perhaps he saw you sleeping in his bed, and decided not to disturb you?
You're pondering over those possibilities in your mind when you hear footsteps from out in the hall.
Your heart pounds in your chest as excitement overtakes you.
Tharja was finally coming back!
No, there was definitely more than one pair of footsteps.
Before you can think of anything more, the door bursts open.
You shriek as you realize it's castle guards, carrying torches.
You aren't dressed, you yell!
There's a bit of awkwardness where the guards have to avert your eyes, but hand you your discarded robe.
They explain it's well past morning, and it was discovered you weren't in your bedroom.
The entire castle was locked down to search for you.
… Oh dear.
The entire castle?
You aren't sure if you should take them seriously, but then you're led outside the halls leading to Tharja's room into the regular castle and you get the impression it must be true.
There aren't nearly as many maids bustling around, and the castle feels queer because of the absence.
At least there's no one to see you looking borderline indecent as you're lead to…
The throne room?
Your stomach quivers.
Was the King waiting to punish you there?
The soldiers 'escorting' you exchange some sort of weird gesture and a few words about having located you.
You don't want to go in the throne room and face the King…
The emotions are simply too much. You start to cry.
It doesn't matter, the door is opened and you're ushered inside.
You take one glance and realize there's no one else there.
One of the guards tells you that you must wait there, do not try to leave.
The doors to the room shut, keeping you inside with no one to watch you.
Were they thinking up a punishment?
Time passes, in which you can do little more than stand, awkwardly.
It's beginning to hurt your feet to stand in one place, so you pace a little…
The only place to sit is on the King's throne, and you would never dare.
You feel rather miserable.
You almost want to knock on the door and beg for at least… a cushion.
Before you can gather up your nerve, the door opens.
It's Daniella, flanked by guards holding the door open.
They allow her inside and then shut the door behind her.
She gives you a straightforward bow, the kind a servant might use if they were in a hurry and needed to do something but still had to show their courtesies.
…She looks perfectly well-dressed, as always.
"Your Highness," she starts to say. Her tone is soft, and not the harsh, judgemental rebuke you were expecting.
"Your Highness, would you please explain what happened last night?" she asks.
You think you understand.
Daniella… was interrogating you.
No question about it. What you told her would definitely be repeated… if not directly to the King, then at least whatever soldiers had to organize whatever the castle went through to find you.
… Yes, they think you'll confess more easily to a feminine ear.
You break out into another sob.
Despite your noble background, and even that you're royalty, you feel less than Daniella at that moment.
You beg her pardon and ask for a moment to compose yourself.
She waits, and you finally start speaking.
You were lonely and couldn't sleep. You wanted the companionship of your husband… so you took your candle and sought it out.
Tharja wasn't in his bed, but…
It's… indecent to have to say out loud what your intentions were.
Even if Tharja is your husband, it reflected your lustful thoughts.
Daniella notices your hesitation.
She makes a little sound of a sigh.
You aren't sure if she's impatient, judging you, or possibly sympathetic.
"You were seeking… sexual… satisfaction?"
You can feel your face light up in a blush.
It's enough it must extend all the way to your toes.
You… you have to answer her.
You can't just leave it at that.
But what were you really wanting… and what would she believe?
She's not a Priest or even a nun. What you say is likely going to be repeated, but…
Perhaps she would understand, as a woman to a woman?
You realize you're holding your hands to your cheeks, and slowly let go, before speaking your answer.
>You wanted Tharja's attention. You just wanted to see him… Why wasn't he there?
>Confess to having a sexual… craving. Blame your pregnancy if you have to.
No need to admit to being lewd. Option one, we wanted Tharja's attention.
Option 1 feels more like what Edwys would say, especially since she doesn't know about Daniella being a witch hunter.
We're ladylike, so option 1 and they can take it as they will.
Edwys and Tharja are married. Even in a medieval setting, sexuality within a marriage is absolutely okay and nothing the be ashamed of. She doesn't need to admit to masturbating, but missing intimacy with her husband is surely nothing anyone can hold against her.
Option one is very much the only way to go here. Plus, when Tharja hears, he'll probably be more attentive and visit more, so Win-Win.
>6 votes for option one, you wanted to see Tharja.
>1 vote for option two, you wanted sexual satisfaction more than anything.
Emphasize your desire for your husband.
You… wanted Tharja…
More than anything.
If he had sent you back to your room without so much as a caress, you could have dealt with that.
Instead, he wasn't there, and you decided to keep his bed warm for him in hopes he'd return.
Then… yes, you became overwhelmed with his smell.
You, very quietly, confess the other details of last night to Daniella, including your… sin.
It shames you to think about, let alone speak out loud, but it's better than Daniella possibly thinking you were meeting some lover in your husband's bed, of all things.
She listens, not interrupting, then… you have nothing left to explain.
Why wasn't Tharja in his own bed?
Was he away?
… You know it's selfish, but your heart… wanted your husband.
Is that wrong, you ask?
Daniella flinches with the smallest hint of a sad frown.
"It's not wrong, Your Highness."
Her words help you calm down and your panic subsides.
…You were sorry for causing a fuss.
But you never thought it would turn in to this.
Daniella nods, eyes downcast.
"Thank you for explaining the situation to me, Your Highness."
Daniella starts to turn to leave.
What are you to do now? Are you to wait?
Daniella turns back.
"Not at all. You are free to return to your room."
You're tired of walking around undressed. It's long past an acceptable time to wear such things.
You thank Daniella… you thought you would be facing the King.
… You're careful to call him His Majesty in front of Daniella.
Daniella shakes her head.
"His Majesty, King Vlad, has more important matters to commit himself to, Your Highness."
You can't help but let out a startled little squeak.
It's a relief when the doors open and the soldiers allow you and Daniella to pass.
You can barely look at them before scurrying away.
You can only hope they'll forget about you, but you know better.
You'll be the object of their gossip for some time.
The thought is enough to almost make you start sobbing again.
Daniella isn't with you, she walks in a different direction leaving you alone.
You return to your room to find two maids waiting to help you get dressed.
You're still feeling mortified, but they don't mention anything about not finding you in your bed when you awoke.
Hopefully no one knows beyond the maids and the guards who were looking for you.
>No choice yet. Further update coming soon.
After getting dressed, it's time for your breakfast. The maids escort you to the room and you can't help but feel like you're being watched, now.
Of course you sit down alone to an empty table.
It's a tiresome affair and you poke and play with your food like a child.
You can't help feeling sorry for yourself. At the same time, you feel sorry that you're feeling sorry for yourself.
It's only when you remember you must take care of yourself for the child inside you as well that you finally find the strength to eat. It's a slow, cumbersome affair.
You're a few bites in to your plate of cooked eggs and berries when the hinges of the door squeak and it begins to push open.
You've eaten enough to know the maids never interrupt meals.
You actually feel a tinge of fear before you see…
…Tharja's face emerging behind the door.
He gives you a pleasant smile.
"Edwys, my dear… how are you holding up?"
You can't help but blush, recalling the events that started your day for you.
It's… been an interesting morning, you finally reply.
Tharja's not alone, a maid comes in behind him and carries a plate of food for him. She sets it down in front of him at the table before excusing herself, the door shutting behind her.
"Apologies for just arriving now, my dear wife. Were you missing me?"
It went without saying, so you just nod, demurely.
You watch him take up his fork and cut at a bit of egg. He nods back.
"Me as well… it's unfortunate the King has tasked me with… certain obligations recently."
This is too good to be true. You know Tharja must be here because of what happened today.
He finishes swallowing the bite of egg he took.
"I'm very sorry, Edwys. There would be times the King would require me to be away, day or even night… and I may have to leave the castle."
Yes, you say.
You remember him explaining that.
You leave out that you were suspicious it came so soon after you revealed you were pregnant.
But, you can't help but add, Tharja did give you permission to enter his quarters at any time.
His expression turns into a mischievous grin.
"I did appreciate you taking advantage of that."
… You should feel happier about Tharja's comment, but you can't.
He's being kind and not specifically raising the subject of your sin, but you know that's the purpose of this conversation.
You mustn't argue… you mustn't be contentious… you had to be a perfect wife, like your father had made sure you were raised to be.
But the question looms over your head… what sort of obligation from the King requires Tharja not sleep in his own bed at night?
… No, you won't think of Tharja as a liar. Neither will you ask and imply it.
There must be some reason. It is all right if you don't know.
–And if it was just an opportunity for Tharja to spread his seed…
You needed to accept that. It would be wrong, even as his wife, to confront him about his… urges. And you certainly don't want to ask about it and risk hearing an answer.
You hadn't realized it, but you'd screwed your eyes shut in your emotions.
You feign a light laugh and make an excuse that you were just… embarrassed at recalling being so selfish.
Tharja leans forward, reaching his hand across the table.
"You can be selfish, Edwys."
You look up into Tharja's eyes and see only kindness there.
You reach out and let him take your hand.
Your vision blurs as you blink away tears.
Thank you… thank you so much!
Your mood clears and you finally feel at peace with your emotions.
You want to just embrace him right now!
He gives your soft fingers a little rub, and then lets go.
His hands feel rougher than you remember…
Well, whatever. He was likely busy with some masculine activity.
You smile and finally point out your dress is newly embroidered with jewels to make you look more regal, and does he like it?
Before long you're talking and catching up and eating your meal together.
It doesn't end there, Tharja invites you for a walk around the castle. He wants to see the new garden being built. You happily agree.
Unfortunately, you don't end up admiring the garden so much as each other.
Tharja holds your hand and whispers you are the prettiest flower in the castle.
Your head is full of romantic little nothings by the time the sun reaches midday.
After you share another lunch, Tharja invite you back to his room saying he wants to spend time being even more intimate.
It's the perfect finish to your day together.
But it also reminds you of how you woke up this morning, which you'd been able to forget until then.
Twice in consecutive nights? You'll surely get a reputation of being some shameless sex-starved… beast.
…But you dare not turn him down.
You can only nod demurely as Tharja wraps his arms around your waist and places his hand on your rump.
Your heart is pounding and your ladybits are tingling as he leads you back to his wing.
You hope your dress is easy to iron. You don't have the nerve to tell Tharja you need to hang it up properly.
It's surely going to be left in a crumpled heap on his floor before too long.
>No choice yet, further update coming soon.
You step lightly down the hallway to Tharja's room. Tharja gallantly leads the way with a torch.
You're thankful he's here to carry it. You always become frightened when you must be around flame bigger than a candle.
You can't help but worry it will somehow catch your long hair alight and the fire would engulf you like lightning striking a tree. You aren't sure if that's a reasonable fear to have, but you can't deny the terror it makes you feel. The very thought makes you shiver from head to toe.
Tharja pushes open the door to his room, stepping inside with you.
He places the torch on its holder and immediately embraces you.
Strong arms wrap around your body, strong hands find your curves.
His warm lips press against yours as he claims what's his. Of course, you offer it freely. And after all the attention you've received from him today… you desire it. You need it so much.
Tharja teases your lips with his tongue and you part them for him, he wastes no time invading your mouth with his red muscle. It's all you can do to tilt your head back as you're overcome with the sensation. You do your best to coil your own around him.
You let out a gasp, breaking the kiss for air, as you feel Tharja's hand grope your sensitive breast. You murmur a soft protest, reminding him your breasts feel sore.
"Mm… my apologies, Edwys…"
He presses another kiss to your lips, then pulls back completely, his hands going to his undo his clothes, starting with his belt.
"I think we would do well to move this to the bed," he whispers, voice lustful and husky.
You nod, watching him reveal more of his lean masculine body in the torchlight, and you can feel your canal lubricating itself… your pussy ready to invite him inside you.
You say a silent prayer of apology to the poor tailor who made your dress so pretty as you start to undo the laces of your bodice and slip out of it. You pull it over your head and drop it in a mess on the floor, soft clinking of jewels striking stone heard as you do so.
Tharja has himself naked by that point and spares no time freeing you of your undergarments, until your flesh is completely exposed from head to toe.
You actually can't help but squeak in fear as Tharja settles his hands on your curves, forgetting you're exposed in a way that only Tharja will see. Yes– that only Tharja should see.
You let out an excited moan as Tharja's hands swirl over your belly.
"Have you developed a bump her yet, my dear Edwys…?" he asks, softly.
Your lips turn in a frown and you admit you haven't… just yet.
But you know his son is there, waiting to show himself.
"Hm… I understand." He smacks his lips. "In the meantime… there are other areas of you to touch…"
He curves his hands around your backside and grabs a healthy pinch of your ample ass in his hands, cupping both cheeks in his embrace.
You let out another little sound as he provokes a jump from you. You reach your hands up to wrap your soft arms around the back of his neck.
He's… intent on making you cry out, isn't he? You can't help but whisper the accusation to him.
He doesn't hide his grin.
"Maybe a little…"
The next instant, he's picking you up. He lets out a small grunt as he pulls you up. It has the desired effect of making you squeak in surprise again. His arms move, one to your thighs and the other up your back, just under your hair, as he suspends you completely in the air. One hand under your knees, the other supporting your back.
You blink up at him, speechless… and a little frightened. You're not terribly heavy, but was this too strenuous for him? You start to ask, but then think twice about it. You don't want to perhaps deliver some indirect insult by questioning his ability to lift you.
Tharja stares down at you, licking his lips.
"I hope you're ready, Edwys… I've been desiring you for some time."
–Oh. It hadn't occurred to you that Tharja may actually be needing an outlet as much as you have.
You arch your back in his embrace, doing your best to put your breasts on display for him.
You're feeling genuinely romantic as he steps over to his bed and sets you down.
You look up at him with excited, anxious eyes, arms sliding to your sides to let him get a full look at you.
You look at him, at least until…
You can't bear holding back, you turn your head to gaze at Tharja's member.
As you expect, it's hard and pointed directly at you, head beginning to poke through his foreskin.
It… looks so swollen…
Your thoughts are interrupted by Tharja putting a firm hand on your thigh.
He lowers his hand to your feet, ushering you to bend your legs.
"Turn over, Edwys. I desire to take you on your hands and knees."
You prefer to have sex with you both facing each other, but you won't deny his request. It gives you a shiver as you do as he says, turning yourself on your front and propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You feel like some beast presenting itself in hopes it will be mounted… impregnated… bred. Tharja has already done that, of course, but you can certainly dream.
Tharja wastes no time, he climbs up on the bed and positions himself behind you. You feel his hands grip your waist as he adjusts your position, forcing you to spread your knees a little wider and arch your back to his liking. Your breasts hang freely, your erect nipples pointing at the floor.
The suspense and not knowing when the penetration will come fills you with trepidation and fear. Tharja can set any pace he likes with you barely able to do more than moan and speak back at him…
You wait for his cock to touch your lips, but it doesn't come. You realize he must be teasing you… you can't help but let out a disappointed little moan.
You feel one of his hands lift up from your body, then–
You give a sudden surprised gasp as you feel your head pulled back. Your neck arching, thrusting your chin out. What's he… doing?
You realize after a split second of fear that he's reached down and grabbed your long hair, enough to pull back at your head.
"Heh… sorry, Edwys. I just realized… you've sort of grown the perfect set of reins to hold on to, with you posed this way."
…No. It's… it's the symbol of your femininity, your fecundity…
He continues on.
"So, let's do it… just like this."
You can feel your hair being brushed by his hands as he starts to rub his cock along your outer labia lips. You can feel the pressure on your scalp as he pulls it taut enough for you to be aware he's holding it.
Your long hair is your symbol of who you are… it annoyed you at times with how hard it was to maintain and care for, but letting Tharja pull it…
It felt wrong. It is wrong. You don't want that. He might damage it.
How can you stop him?
He's your husband. He has a right to use you as he wants. If… if he prefers to manipulate your body, you'd have to accept that… is hair-pulling not part of that? Perhaps… perhaps you'll grow to like the pain.
…Tharja continues to rub himself against you. You know if you're going to voice an objection it had better be before he penetrates you.
There's no stopping a man's lust once he's inside you. You know from personal experience.
Your heads feels dizzy as you consider what to do. Tharja was kind… he'd listen, surely…
But… do you have the right to speak up?
>Stay silent and let Tharja do whatever he wants.
>You don't like this, but you'll put up with it for the sake of his desire. Permit him to pull it but speak up and ask Tharja to at least be gentle.
>It's too much. Beg him to release your hair.
Option one. She should give it a try. Maybe she'll like it rough after a while.
>3 votes for option one, be a good wife and let Tharja do as he pleases.
Stay silent, submit to the hair pulling.
Poll closed. Update soon.
…You say nothing.
It's his right to use you. It's his right to manipulate you. Even break you.
So are your thoughts before Tharja thrusts his hips forward and spears your delicate feminine folds with his virile, manly cock.
You can't help but jerk your body, arching your back and letting out a surprised gasp.
The feeling of Tharja holding your hair, giving you less freedom of motion, makes you twist and turn and stretch your neck out.
It's… not pleasant. Bolts of terror course through your body as you struggle to breathe.
Your lungs fill with panicked breaths as you deal with the fear that Tharja will pull your hair too hard, that you will spend so many years growing it again.
You become aware of a deep, satisfied moan from Tharja.
His grip relaxes somewhat, and you sigh in relief as your hair goes slack enough to lower your head.
"Damn, Edwys… you were really… tight…"
…Oh, that's right.
Tharja's cock is inside you. The feeling of your hair being pulled made you focus on your panic and not your sex.
You hear Tharja let out a lusty little sigh. There's a layer of hunger there you haven't heard before. You're not sure you'd heard Tharja swear before either.
"It's because I pulled your hair, isn't it…? It really gets you off?"
Before you have time to think about it, Tharja gives another tug and you let out another surprised yelp as your head is pulled back again, your vulnerable white throat exposed as you have no choice but to arch your neck back.
You hold back more fear as Tharja places his lips beside your ear.
"Squeal for me, Edwys."
He follows it up with a savage thrust, so much your body is shoved forward from the impact.
True to Tharja's command, from your lips emerges a pitiful shocked squeal.
You want to tell him 'no'… you don't want to be treated like an outright beast…
But instead of words, your voice only emits more and more hurried squealing.
It echoes off the walls in Tharja's confined little room, the sounds burning in your ears.
Mixed with Tharja's moans as he continues to thrust his cock into you, striking your ample rump with each thrust, creating a hard slap each time that mingles with your cries, with Tharja's labored panting.
You can feel your eyes burning, wet with tears as he mercilessly pounds away.
You want to slump down on your forearms, or at least wipe your eyes free of their tears, but you cannot even manage that.
Your head is too taut with Tharja's pulling. You have no choice but to keep your poor arms ramrod straight.
You body shakes with dread and pain as Tharja satisfies himself.
You can feel it, you can hear it.
The hard desperate thrusts and the satisfied groans from behind you.
Tharja's going to cum…
Drool drips freely from your orifice as you continue squealing.
You can't help but hold your mouth open in an attempt to relieve pressure on your scalp.
Tharja's crotch slams into your ass once, twice, thrice…
You feel your hair pulled even harder as his muscles tense and he orgasms. A loud masculine groan resounding through the room.
Until you hear him panting hard, feel the heat of his chest over your bare back as he lies on top of you, and his cum flows inside you.
He finally lets go of your hair.
But not before giving your back a fond kiss.
"F-Fuck… Edwys… that was the best sex I've ever had… I can still feel myself cumming…"
He runs his hands up and down the front of your belly, trailing up to massage your delicate breasts.
You… didn't come close to enjoying it. Your pussy feels wet and raw.
But, you can take a certain satisfaction in your sex. Hadn't Tharja praised you? Hadn't you done what he wanted?
–Though you're not sure if you should feel proud or indignant that he slipped and said: 'The best sex I've ever had,' instead of 'The best sex we've ever had.'
Meanwhile, you can't help your nerves.
You quickly move your hair away so he can't touch it anymore, then turn back to examine his fingers.
Tharja raises no objections; he's curled up beside you, body still vibrating with pleasure.
You indeed find one or two hairs curled in his fingers. Their length is truly impressive.
Not enough to become a patch of missing hair on your head, but even that little bit makes your heart race.
You can't lose your hair… you just can't.
You're tempted to run from the room and find a maid to help you wash it and oil it.
You're being silly.
This amount hardly matched what hair you lost in a normal brushing. It's trivial.
…But how could you know for sure it'd always be like that?
Tharja is a man, after all. He could underestimate his strength.
You sit on Tharja's bed, fretting, his sperm slipping down your thighs as you ponder your hair.
Tharja seemed to genuinely enjoy it all…
The panicked thoughts you had made your groin constrict and milk his cock, hard. Harder, you suppose, than you normally manage in your sex. Though you always made an effort to do that.
No doubt he'll be expecting and looking forward to experiencing that again.
Though having your husband looking forward to sex with you was… good, it wasn't as good a sex for you.
Your own desires are unfulfilled, in terms of raw pleasure. You can take satisfaction from the result, but… was it enough?
You turn and look at Tharja's face.
He's dozing, a contented grin on his face as he sleeps. Looking utterly relaxed.
You have a choice to make.
Your lips turn into a tight frown as you ponder what to do…
Let this continue? Or possibly… ask Tharja to stop?
>Stay with Tharja until he awakes with more of his senses. Explain you really don't want your hair pulled. He can do anything else.
>Cuddle with Tharja and, later, confide your fears and ask him to help you find a solution.
>Masturbate yourself to orgasm and then lay with Tharja, accepting the hair pulling forever, if it's what THarja wants.
Option 2. Marriage is a partnership. We want to make Tharja happy, but we don't want to live in constant fear of our hair. The sexytimes should be enjoyable for both.
I too vote for option two.
BTW: aristo, do you still have the beginning of the story? The thread on bbw-chan is gone and it's not in the wayback machine as far as I can tell.
You mean of Impregnated Princess? This is it. This is the entire story. The only thing that's missing is the choice prompts and the votes. (What was chosen is listed at least.)
I think I may still have a version with those prompts and the votes still saved, but is there some part you're looking for?
Oh. Then misremembered that some piece of the beginning was missing.
You may be thinking of the post where I teased the possibility of this sex scene back in the bbw-chan thread. It's identical to what is here, though.
Can't believe I managed to miss this last week.
>3 votes for option two, cuddle, then confide your fears with Tharja.
Share your misgivings about having your hair pulled with Tharja.
Poll closed. Update soon.
You curl up to Tharja's side, settling in next to him.
You let your fingers curl around his chest, feeling his muscles. The smell of his scent fills your senses as you close your eyes and cuddle close.
Tharja lies there breathing, and you become aware of how exhausted he must be; your hand rising and falling along with his chest as air fills his lungs.
You rest your own eyes, unaware if sleep claims you or not.
It's all you can do to hold back from needling him with your concerns.
Eventually you do feel him stir, rolling over.
You turn your fingers around his skin, hoping to rouse him.
It takes a few minutes, but he finally turns back to you.
He lets out a deep groan.
"Just speak up if you want something."
…He sounds approaching the borderline of being annoyed. You decide you must follow his command.
You would… prefer not to feel such extremes of emotion during your sex.
That is… fear.
You can't help but draw out your words with awkward pauses, worried you won't find the right words.
Tharja reaches up and tangles his hand in your hair.
"Is this about the baby in your belly, Edwys?"
No, but now that he's suggested it, you can't help but feel your request is more selfish than it seemed.
It's your… hair.
It's precious to you. If you lose it, it won't grow back.
That's why you can't lose it. You fear if Tharja makes a habit of being rough, then you just may.
Tharja listens, then lets out another sigh.
"We'll talk later."
… All right.
You let it go without saying anything more.
You're not sure if you did any more than sour Tharja's mood. You'll have to wait and see.
You go back to your room walking stiffly and sorely for the next two weeks.
Tharja continues to show you attention, even if he must be gone in the morning and can't have you sleeping in his bed overnight.
Though, his motions in bed are not as… intense.
You never do end up talking about your hair pulling again. He simply stops doing it.
You decide that's enough of a solution and never bring it up again.
One morning, like any other, you're awakened by the morning light and warmth.
You blink yourself awake and stretch out with a long yawn…
Your pregnancy makes your sleep difficult. You wake up feeling as tired and worn out as when you lay yourself down. You've asked the maids to stop coming to wake you, at least not without cause.
Unfortunately, it didn't help matters.
You continue to lie for a period of time before you roll yourself upright and move to swing your legs over.
You wonder what you should do today…
The tailor may have your new clothes completed by now.
You wonder if the peasants have raised enough of your garden yet, enough for you to walk and admire the view.
You take off your night gown and throw it over your modesty partition, moving to take up your underwear.
Of course, you don't even bother with the partition. At least not in the morning.
You slide your lower underwear up your thighs and then work on your bodice when you see it. You blink. Then you blink again. You smooth out your hand and run it over your mid-section.
Could it be…?
A sudden rush of energy fills you and you forget your weariness and rush over to the mirror.
… You have a bump.
It's small, barely noticeable, but it's undeniably there once spotted.
You have a bump.
You have an honest-to-goodness bump!
You can feel your face become hot, your eyes becoming wet.
You're stuck between wanting to dance and cry in joy.
This was it… the next stage to your pregnancy. Your future child with Tharja letting you know he's there.
You continue stroking your belly as the emotions wash through you.
It's most marvelous feeling in the world… and the scariest.
You'll have to work on being the best mother you can be.
–But, for now, you're the picture of delight.
You have a bump!
Your excitement is spoiled by a knock on the door.
You turn your head and call out.
Who is it, you ask?
You hear an older woman's voice call back and you recognize it as one of the maids.
You're still full of emotions to the extent you can barely make out what she actually says, beyond that she's come to visit you.
Half of your breasts are spilled from your loose bodice. You could do with having her help you into it.
But, maybe you should show off?
You do wish you had someone to share in the moment.
It couldn't hurt to invite her in to see your newly-pregnant belly, could it?
>Tell her to wait while you (attempt) to lace up your bodice and finish dressing yourself.
>You're too emotional to hide it, you may as well be proud. Invite her in and show off your bump.
>You mustn't be too personal with the maids. Call her in to help with the bodice and your dress, but don't call particular attention to your bump. …Or at least, try not to.
Mm… Option 1. While Edwys doesn't strike me as being one to rub her belly in her maid's face (though that's an interesting mental image), and she might want to subtly show off to the maid, I think she might want to save the baby bump reveal for Tharja.
>3 votes for option one, lace up your bodice and finish dressing. Don't show off your bump.
Dress yourself and have the maid wait.
Poll closed. Update soon.
You mustn't let your excitement run away with you.
You ask the maid to please wait. You're not presentable.
Your hands go to work tying your underclothes together.
All the while, you can't stop smiling. You close your eyes and rock from side to side, feeling immensely pleased with yourself.
You finish putting on your dress and have almost forgotten the maid is waiting when you open the door.
Not just a maid, but a blonde-haired woman are waiting for you.
She's dressed in very fashionable traveling clothes. A shortened skirt on her dress.
Her long blonde hair looks as if it could rival yours in length.
Her clothes bear a brooch with an intricate design, and she carries a book in her arms.
There's no doubt that this woman could be anything but an aristocrat.
The maid speaks up, introducing you as Her Royal Highness, Edwys of Ruhemania.
The stranger curtsies before you.
Ah. The etiquette falls to you.
You know who this person must be.
The maid goes on to introduce her as Beatrice, lady from Elbania.
You exchange pleasantries, a soft mutual 'how do you do,' then you offer your hand for her to shake.
You're the princess, you can set the level of formality, and you're too emotional for a stiff meeting.
You tell Beatrice you're very glad to make her acquaintance. You know she'll make a fine midwife.
She responds to your gesture by taking your hand for a soft shake, not shying away from full-hand contact. Her face meets your smile with her own.
"My, my. Thank you very much for the vote of confidence, Your Highness."
You think you're going to like Beatrice.
You almost want to tell her to call you 'Edwys,' but perhaps that's too informal.
The maid speaks up at that point and tells you breakfast is waiting for you. It was planned for Beatrice to join you.
"If that's to your liking, Your Highness."
Of course! It'll be a perfect opportunity to get to know each other.