Chapter L: Birthday
Isabella wandered through the palace corridors, her steps purposeful yet tinged with uncertainty. She scanned the faces of the servants, noting the colors of their attire. White and blue for the harem maids, gray and raw linen for the kitchen staff, and green for the royal chamber servants. No one wore brown, the color of the mysterious dress she had glimpsed when that dangerous envelope was left at her door.
With each passing moment, Isabella's frustration grew. The possibility that it was all a prank, perhaps orchestrated by Dara or other jealous concubines, seemed increasingly plausible. Yet, doubts lingered, nagging at the edges of her mind. She knew, for her own good, that it was better to forget about it.
Isabella was the only concubine granted the freedom to roam the palace at will, a privilege she cherished despite knowing it could be revoked at any moment. She savored her liberty while remaining ever cautious, aware of the thin ice she tread upon.
With her son, Prince Ikkar, cradled in her arms, Isabella often strolled through the lush gardens, the vibrant colors and fragrant blooms offering a temporary escape from her burdens. She would also walk the grand hallways, pointing out the regal portraits of Ikkar’s ancestors lining the walls, though he was only four months old and too young to understand.
One day, as they passed a particularly striking painting of a past queen, a sudden realization struck her—it was her birthday. A whole year passed since the king laid with her. A whole year since they conceived their beloved son. Isabella's grip on Ikkar tightened slightly, a bittersweet smile forming on her lips. She continued her walk, the weight of the day adding a subtle gravity to her steps. She wondered if anyone in the palace, even the king, remembered or cared about her birthday. For now, she would find solace in the simple moments she could share with her son.
The king decided to visit the harem’s bathing house for the first time in a long while. All his concubines, hearing the news, were excited and eager to please him. They prepared themselves meticulously, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. Perhaps, he thought, this was what he needed to forget about Isabella at once.
Now that he had an heir, for better or worse, it was less of an issue if he ended up conceiving with any of the other women. As he entered the bathing house, the scent of exotic oils and perfumes filled the air, mingling with the soft steam rising from the hot waters.
The concubines were already there, naked and waiting for him, their bodies glistening with water and oil. Their eyes followed his every move, each one hoping to catch his attention. The king tried to immerse himself in the scene, to let their beauty and eagerness distract him from his turmoil.
But as he moved among them, accepting their touches and caresses, his mind kept drifting back to Isabella. Her defiance, her beauty, and the complex emotions she stirred in him were a stark contrast to the simplicity of the desire he saw in his other women. He forced a smile, trying to push those thoughts away and focus on the pleasures at hand. The girls massaged his back and cleaned his skin gently with soft pieces of cloth. But deep inside, he knew that no matter how many women surrounded him, the shadow of Isabella would linger, refusing to be forgotten.
The king took a good look at Jia, one of the most beautiful girls in his harem. She was the daughter of a Duke who tried to proclaim himself king during the war, but failed. When the Dragon King's army invaded her father's castle, the Duke offered his daughter to him in order to have his life spared; the king did not spare the Duke's life, but kept his daughter. She wasn't a legitimate princess, nor a virgin, but she was pretty and knew how to use her body, which was enough for the king to open an exception and have her at his harem. Her porcelain skin and delicate features were striking, and her presence exuded a calm grace. Although he had never felt anything particularly special for her, he knew how skilled she was in bed. Jia knelt before him, massaging his feet with expert hands, her touch both soothing and relaxing.
As he leaned back, allowing himself to momentarily forget his troubles, he decided to act on impulse. He called for Lady Belet, who was always nearby, overseeing the harem with her watchful eyes.
"Lady Belet," he said, his voice firm but calm, "bring Jia to my chambers later tonight."
Jia's eyes flickered with a hint of excitement, but she continued her massage serene, her hands steady and gentle. The king closed his eyes, trying to savor the tranquility of the moment, hoping that tonight's encounter might bring him the distraction and solace he desperately needed.
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