Chapter XXV: Bliss

Isabella savored the moment in the warm embrace of his strong arms. Their sexes still joint, she laid her head on his chest in the most serene tranquility. "Are you feeling alright, Isabella?" he inquired, caressing her head.

She nodded, lifting her head, her gaze meeting his eyes as she replied softly, "Yes, Your Majesty. I feel... different."
Sensing her hesitation, the king gently prodded, "Different how?"

Isabella bit her lip and briefly looked away, before finally voicing her question, a mix of uncertainty and curiosity in her eyes. "Is this… Is this what’s supposed to happen on a wedding night? Did you... make me a woman?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The king's expression softened, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, Isabella," he confirmed, his voice gentle yet firm. "I made you a woman. My woman."

Isabella's brows furrowed slightly, her thoughts evident in the furrow of her brow. "But... is it supposed to feel good? Is it normal… To feel pleasure?" she ventured, her voice tinged with a little embarrassment and genuine concern.

With a warm chuckle, the king reached out to cup her cheek, his touch tender. Her innocence and curiosity were absolutely adorable to him. "Yes, my dear," he reassured her. "It's natural to feel pleasure. It means you wanted it. It means you wanted me."

Isabella's eyes widened in realization, a hint of color rising to her cheeks as she absorbed his words. "I... I didn't know I wanted it… I didn’t know I wanted you until..." she trailed off, her words faltering.

The king's smile softened, his gaze filled with understanding. "Until I took you," he finished for her, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of desire.

As the king announced his imminent departure, Isabella's heart sank, a mixture of disappointment and longing washing over her. She watched in silence, hunched over the edge of the bathtub, as the maids came back at his request and he got out of the water. With practiced hands, the maids dried the king's glistening skin, the soft touch of the towels against his body made Isabella strangely irritated—she didn’t want anyone else touching his skin or even looking at his naked body like that.

The king stood tall and resolute, his figure imposing in the flickering candlelight. Isabella couldn't tear her gaze away, her eyes drinking in every detail—the graceful sweep of his silk robe over his shoulders, the strength evident in his stance, the air of authority that surrounded him.

The king sent for Lady Belet. In a matter of seconds she was standing before him and he issued his instructions. "Take Lady Isabella to my private chambers," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Assign a maid to attend to her needs during the day."

Lady Belet nodded in acknowledgment, her expression neutral as she accepted the king's orders without hesitation. Isabella, still perched on the edge of the bathtub, felt a pang of longing as she watched the king depart. She met his gaze with an expression of silent yearning, her doe eyes pleading him to stay. He chuckled with tenderness, as if to entice her at the same time he reassured her they would be together soon.

As Isabella submerged in the warm waters of the bathtub, the distant echoes of the other concubines greeting the king filtered through the harem walls. A soft smile graced her lips as she recalled the tender moments shared with him earlier that morning. She ran her fingers through the water, lost in the sweet reverie of their intimacy.

As the maids finished bathing her, Isabella felt a sense of serenity wash over her. They gently dried her, moisturized her body and began to meticulously tend to her hair, their movements fluid and precise. Lady Belet approached with an air of solemnity, her keen gaze assessing Isabella's demeanor.

"How are you feeling, Lady Isabella?" Lady Belet inquired, her tone measured and compassionate.

Isabella's response was simple but sincere. "Lovely," she said, a faint blush gracing her cheeks as she recalled the intimacy shared with the king.

Lady Belet's brow furrowed slightly at Isabella's response and she chuckled. "I meant physically," she clarified.

Isabella's smile faltered slightly as she considered the question. "Oh, well... I'm feeling quite sore, to be honest," she admitted, a little embarrassed.

Lady Belet's expression softened with understanding. "Don't worry, my dear," she reassured Isabella, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This will be taken care of."

The maids worked diligently to style Isabella's hair, weaving delicate braids adorned with golden threads. Once her hair was artfully arranged, the maids helped Isabella into a stunning dark green dress, its intricate golden embroidery sparkling in the ambient light. She stood before the mirror, her reflection radiating a quiet elegance that seemed to match her new-acquired maturity.

As Isabella made her way through the bustling main hall of the harem, she couldn't help but notice the furtive glances and murmurs that followed her as she walked. The other concubines whispered amongst themselves, their eyes filled with curiosity and perhaps a hint of jealousy. The air was thick with a palpable tension, exacerbated by the anguished cries emanating from Lady Dara's bed.

Turning towards the source of the commotion, Isabella met Dara's gaze, her eyes alight with a mixture of pure rage and despair. Despite the tumultuous emotions swirling around her, Isabella realized there was nothing she could do, so she calmly continued on her journey towards the king's quarters.

Isabella stepped into the king's private chambers, her heart fluttering with anticipation. This time, for the first time, she wasn’t there fearing for her life or crying in despair as she was punished. She was happy to be there, happy to wait for the king.

As they settled into the room, Lady Belet approached Isabella with a warm smile. "Lady Isabella, I will arrange for a massage to relieve the soreness in your body," she announced gently. "And I’ll request an oil that will help with any discomfort you may be feeling in your womanhood."

Isabella nodded eagerly, a grateful smile lighting up her features. "Thank you, Lady Belet. That sounds wonderful," she replied, her voice tinged with relief.

Lady Belet continued, her tone becoming more businesslike. "I will also ask for you to be served with plenty of fortified wine and a nourishing meal with liver and fruits to aid your fertility," she added.

At the mention of fertility, Isabella's curiosity was piqued. "Lady Belet, may I ask you something?" she ventured, her eyes searching Lady Belet's face.

Lady Belet nodded, her expression encouraging. "Of course, my dear. What is it?" she replied, motioning for Isabella to sit with her on the couch. Isabella's voice trembled as she struggled to articulate her question, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"After my first encounter with the king this morning," she began hesitantly, "I felt something... different. It was something warm and liquid in... in my womanhood. I thought it was blood at first, but it wasn't."

The matron listened attentively, her expression calm yet curious. “What color was it?” she asked, serious.

"It was... it was white. White and sticky," Isabella continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “Well, that seems right,” Lady Belet mumbled.

"I'm sorry, but... was that... was that the king's seed?" Isabella asked, genuinely concerned and confused. Lady Belet's serene demeanor remained unchanged as she nodded gently. "Yes, dear. It likely was."

Isabella nodded, her eyes wide with uncertainty. "Right, I see," she whispered to herself. "And even if it... dripped, it's still inside me, isn't it?"

“Apparently yes, based on what you’re telling me,” Lady Belet said. Isabella's cheeks reddened even further at the confirmation, but she pressed on, her voice trembling slightly. "So... That means... I will conceive? I will bear a child from the king?"

Lady Belet offered her a gentle smile, her eyes filled with empathy. "We must hope so," she said softly, her words carrying a sense of optimism. "It's like planting an actual seed in an actual garden. You prepare the soil, water it, and hope for the best. Sometimes it takes root, and sometimes it doesn't. But the spawning it’s well expected."