Sexual Orientation

"An heir?" I inquire, fully aware that this aspect of my life would surface eventually. I am expected to bear the king's child or children, so the topic was inevitable. However, my issue isn't with providing him heirs, but rather with the ability to do so. My late husband desired a successor for his estate, deeming me unfit—a judgment that was correct, as it turned out, for I was unable to fulfill this role. And now, this matter has been raised again, not by the king, but by the very person who was more of a mother to him than his own. This will be a challenge for me.

"Yes, don't you want to have a family of your own? To raise your children as you see fit, teaching them the difference between good and evil, celebrating their first birthday, watching them grow—wouldn't that be a wonderful sight to behold?" she exclaims, perhaps dreaming of happy grandchildren. I know all of that would be enjoyable. If I had a child, I would ensure never to teach them to discriminate or to believe that their status gives them every right. But all this might never happen since I am unable to conceive a child. The only thing I can do now is to tell them myself or wait for them to find out. Either way, neither option works in my favor. "Saltanat?" she calls, her eyes searching mine for some truth. She places a hand on top of mine, her gaze unwavering. Maybe she's searching for the right words, or perhaps she already knows. "Don't you want to have children?" she asks, but it doesn't sound like a question at all. It feels more like a scolding, as if she finds it unbelievable that I could think otherwise.

"I do," I tell her in a whisper. It sounded more like telling her what she wanted to hear than actually wanting to have the king's heir. She removes her hands from mine as expected and carries the cup of water to take a sip. The room seemed to still as though I said some unwelcome answer. after some time, her eyes widened, a flash of surprise quickly overtaken by a narrowing glare. Deep furrows appeared between her brows; lines of frustration etched into her skin. Her lips pressed together into a thin, bloodless line, quivering at the edges as if holding back a storm of words. Her jaw clenched so tightly that her teeth ached, a telltale sign of her struggle to maintain composure. A flush of crimson swept across her cheeks, betraying the rising tide of anger and embarrassment. For a moment, she looked as though she might explode. "Are you perhaps afraid of the king, that you can't bear the thought of carrying his bloodline within you?" she asks, her face void of any detectable emotion. That wasn't what I expected.

"Of course not, I am just worried about the birthing process. I heard from a maid that it is quite unbearable and a life-or-death situation. I do not want my children growing up with the thought that they might have been responsible for my death," I ramble rapidly. I know most of what I said are lies, but I am still scared of that process. I have heard scary things about it. For now, Manta seems to have eased a little; all of the unwelcoming aura has disappeared as she turns to me with a silly smile. I never thought she could be this worked up with the idea of the king not possibly having a child to care for, or maybe she feels bored and wants babies near her.

"It seems you're the adventurous type, Saltanat. I thought you wanted a life free from the responsibility of raising a child. Eva made it clear she just wanted a peaceful life with the king, and ever since, I've been worried you might feel the same. But I'm glad you're different," she explains. It must have bothered her to be this upset at the thought of me not wanting to have...

"Eva?"

"Evalene de Wilmont, Princess of Wilmont, the king's latest wife," she answered, and I could sense the disgust in her tone as she described her. They might not have gotten along, and she must have been quite happy about her departure. "She was one of the Princesses of Spade. She married the king and made it her whole personality. She never interacted with others and only let her personal maid tend to her, accusing us of attempted murder. She changed a lot of rules, and many lost their jobs in the process. I almost did too, but the king is as wise as a hunter, so I was spared. Now, let's not talk about that darkness and focus on you."

"Me?" why would she suddenly worry about me

"Yes, you said you were scared of birthing, but the question is, have you ever bedded with the king? And there is a question I am forced to ask if you do not mind," she says, pausing as she drinks water, her iris moving to the side to eye me. I nod, feeling discomfort at her attitude. "Did you ever meet with any other man after your husband's passing away?" My eyes widen at the sudden question. This doesn't sound like Manta at all. Is it the sudden trust I gave her that makes it feel like she is abusing it, or is this just her way of making friends?

"Of course not," I tell her, trying to conceal the sudden emotion swelling in my heart. I knew she was a straightforward person, but for her to think I could be the type of woman to jump into another man's arms as soon as mine passes... Perhaps she just wants to make sure.

"Oh right, I just want us to avoid having to raise a child out of wedlock. We shouldn't create any inconvenience for the king, especially since he has so many responsibilities. For you to carry someone else's child would be problematic. Anyway, I now know you are not the type to have undignified desires, so we are safe." She says and I can't help but wonder if it's been on her mind ever since I came here, worrying if I could be of help with the king's idea of reproduction perhaps it's his doing all along, he wants to know when I would be ready to consummate our already crumbling marriage. She never behaved this way with me before and this leaves me with no doubt that the king might be pressuring her but then I remember I was the one who initiated getting to know each other, and to this day, I've never regretted that decision why the sudden feeling of resentment. "So how do you want us to start, you do know how to please a man don't you" she asks shamelessly but I guess she knows better than I do she actually has three children so she might be experienced in this. I shake my head, but she doesn't look surprised. She just stands and gets the cup of water with a face full of annoyance. "I will need you to wait for me for a slight moment," she says, then turns and leaves the room, letting Bluebell enter with a tray in hand.

"My lady, this is yours. Please eat with a heart full of love, as I prepared this with hands full of joy," she beams, excited at her own words. I take the tray, and it never a disappointment. It's just soup but contains so much of meat eggs and vegetables that just by looking wone can be full, Manta told her to make something light since I will be having dinner soon, but it seems it enters one ear and left through the other. I try to dig into the food, but Manta's words from earlier keep echoing in my heart and mind. I never thought she could see me as a woman who would find refuge in another man's arms after her husband passed. True, it has been a long time since he died, and I won't deny that I was offered the proposition of a possible remarriage every once and then. However, I never accepted or even gave them hope of a chance with me, as I believed it wasn't the right time or perhaps, I truly never wanted another man in my life, not because I loved my spouse to death, but he was not the kind of man who gives you the impression that every man is different. "My lady, are you alright?" I hear Bluebell's soft voice. I hadn't even realized she had come to sit closer to me. I stare at her shining eyes staring at me in worry I haven't even utter a word but there she is worrying. I want to tell her what just happened with Manta, but if Manta overhears us and thinks I misunderstood her intentions, I will be the one people will feel sorry for.

"No, I just had something in mind. I'll explain later. For now, let's try to eat before I pass out again," I jest, knowing my answer wasn't to her satisfaction. She'll have to deal with it for now. Manta is the only and last of them all we should consider as an enemy now.I start and try my hardest to eat the food, and after some time, my morning appetite returns like a lost voice. I dig in to my fullest until my door opens once again, and Manta walks in with a face full of confusion and embarrassment. She walks towards me, trying to hide her face. It seems like she is in a dilemma or that I have asked the most outrageous request she could possibly think of. A mortified blush spreads across her cheeks, reaching the very tips of her ears. In the oppressive silence that follows, she dares not lift her gaze, her eyes glued to the ornate carpet beneath her feet. Her lips press together in a thin, bloodless line, quivering as she fights the urge to stammer perhaps an apology? but why? Her eyebrows furrow in a mix of horror and regret, and a bead of sweat forms at her temple. Standing before me, I can feel the weight of a thousand eyes upon her, each one amplifying her sense of humiliation. Her posture grows rigid, every muscle tense, as if she somehow will herself to disappear from my royal presence. I stare at her, waiting for her to start with her strange behaviors and attitude, but it has yet to come. I look down at what she is hiding and spot not one or two, but piles of books in her hands. I motion for Bluebell to help her out, but she is already walking towards me and hands me the books before taking a seat, this time on my bed.

"This is..." Bluebell, who started analyzing each book one by one, also began to profoundly blush. I, on the other hand, could not help but wonder what could make Manta, this younger, so shy. Ever since I came here, I never noticed an ounce of embarrassment in her, and now she was acting all shy and timid. Was it because Bluebell was present in the room?

"Saltanat, I never once noticed you could be interested in such things," she says after recollecting herself. Me? What things? I immediately turn to the source of Bluebell and her strange comportment to take a look at the book. 'Act of Reunion?' it reads, I turn the book over to quickly flip it back to the front when I notice the captivating image behind the cover: a woman reclining gracefully on a velvet chaise. Her body, a study in curves and elegance, is bathed in the soft, golden glow of ambient light that highlights the smooth, porcelain texture of her skin. Her pose is both relaxed and deliberate, one leg slightly bent at the knee with a man atop her while the other extends elegantly rounding his waist, her back arching just enough to emphasize her natural lines. Her eyes, half-lidded and smoldering, draw the viewer in with a gaze that promises both mystery and intimacy. A playful, enigmatic smile curves her lips, suggesting secrets and temptations. Cascading waves of dark, lustrous hair tumble over one shoulder, catching the light and adding to the overall allure.

"I... you... what..." I try to explain myself, but the stammering won't stop. She was the one who decided to help me with the king, so why does she act like it was my idea?

Bluebell mimics, "What... I..." while holding a different book. This one doesn't hide anything in the picture; both the front and back images show a blonde woman with her head deep between a man's legs, whose head isn't visible due to the book's small size. The background is a rich tapestry of deep reds and golds, creating a warm and opulent atmosphere that complements the sensuality of the central figure. Luxurious fabrics and dim lighting enhance the intimate, seductive mood of the cover. The title, written in elegant, flowing script, arcs gracefully across the top, its golden letters shimmering against the dark backdrop. The author's name, in a bold yet sophisticated font, is positioned at the bottom, standing out without detracting from the image. The overall layout is balanced and harmonious, with each element carefully placed to draw the viewer's eye and evoke a sense of intrigue and desire and I can't help but press my legs together.

"Why would I ask you for such books when you were the one who suggested helping me and then left?" I say, and Bluebell turns to Manta, who stares back at me. A few moments later, Bluebell laughter rings out, a bright, melodious sound that fills the room with warmth. Her eyes crinkle at the corners, sparkling with delight as she throws her head back, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. Her mouth opens wide, revealing a set of perfect, pearly teeth, and her cheeks flush with a rosy hue. She clutched her stomach, doubling over as peals of laughter shook her slender frame. Each giggle was like a musical note, cascading into the air and wrapping everyone around her in a bubble of infectious joy. Her laughter was so genuine, so uninhibited, that it was impossible not to be caught up in its spell. The sound of her mirth echoed in the room, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as we paused to soak in the pure, unadulterated happiness she radiated even if the source of her laughter was not what I expected, it still made her very happy. 

"I was out when I remembered you needed something from me, so I picked it up. I don't even remember how I got outside," she says, trying her best to recall. Is she not serious about forgetting what happened between us, or does she have memory loss? "I got these books three days after entering the Tower of Mages as an apprentice. One of my roommates at the time had plenty and said I might need them in the future," she explains. The room seemed to breathe with her memories, the air thick with the past. Her gaze shifted to the photograph on the book, her eyes misting over. "Life was different then," she said, her voice a mix of sadness and gratitude. "Simpler, in many ways. But those were good times, the best times."

"What gave her the thought that you might need such things in the future, and did you actually use it?" Bluebell questioned, making Manta blush profusely, making her look much younger than she was. The blush started as a faint pink tint, barely noticeable at first, but quickly deepened into a vivid crimson that spread across her face, reaching the tips of her ears. Her heart raced, and she could feel the heat radiating from her skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.

"This is not a conversation I should be having with you but I was not as experience as most of you are and my husband was my first lover and man so I did used those at some point I know Saltanat was already in a relationship before the king but with what I noticed she still looks inexperienced so just use the books and stop asking questions" She tries to dismiss the interrogations, but I know Bluebell too well, she isn't the type to leave things be without attempting some other strategy to pull out the truth. But for me all I want is to understand why she seemed so different from earlier. Was I still sleeping and dreaming? wasn't she the one who claimed I might be carrying someone's baby? or called me a crave for desire? And why can't I sense any sign of deceit around her like she is actually telling the truth that I did commission her.

"So... did your husband know about the contents of these wonderful lands of yours, Miss Manta? You know, it will be so difficult for me to keep my head at work after this." Bluebell leaned in closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Manta rolled her eyes. Bluebell laughed, a light, musical sound that filled the room, while still flipping through the book, her fingers skimming over pages filled with intricate diagrams and dense paragraphs. "Do you actually read these, or do you just keep them around to impress people?"

Setting another book aside, which was not visible to us at first, she said, "Some of us like to expand our minds beyond fairy tales and romance novels, you know."

"Fairy tales and romance novels!" Bluebell exclaimed, feigning shock. "I'll have you know; those books are full of wisdom and adventure. Besides," she added with a playful wink, "they're much more exciting than..." She paused, running towards Manta, who, thinking she was about to be attacked, covered her face in reaction. This only made Bluebell laugh more. After grabbing the book Manta had tried so hard to keep from them, she ran back, this time heading to the door leading to my dressing room. "So, Umm... fairy tales, huh? 'Erotic's Arcane'? Whoa, Manta, what is this fairy tale all about?" Manta stands and walks to Bluebell, attempting to reclaim what was taken from her. Unfortunately for all of us, the door suddenly opens without any announcement. The king, as glorious as ever, enters and meets Manta halfway. And for the first time, I sense her willingness to be four feet deep in the castle.