Chapter LXXII: Refuse
Isabella heard a knock on her door and opened it to find a group of servants standing there, their arms laden with flowers and a velvet box. The head servant stepped forward and presented the box to her with a bow. Curiously, Isabella took it and opened the lid to reveal a stunning sapphire tiara nestled inside. She felt a flicker of surprise, thinking it was a gift from the king. But then she noticed the wax seal on the accompanying note, bearing the symbol of Prince Damian.
Confused and uneasy, she turned to Alicent, who had followed her to the door. "Why would Prince Damian send me such gifts? It’s as if he’s courting me."
Alicent's expression turned serious as she considered the situation. "He probably is, my lady. Prince Damian is known for his boldness and ambition. It seems he’s trying to make a statement."
Isabella's unease grew. She felt a sudden chill, realizing the potential implications of Damian's intentions. "But why now? Why would he do this?"
Alicent took a deep breath, seeing Isabella’s confusion and concern. “My lady, there’s something you should understand. The king has a history of sharing his concubines with Prince Damian, even the favorite ones.”
Isabella’s eyes widened in shock. “Even his favorites? I knew he shared some of the lower-ranked concubines with noble guests, but... his favorites?”
Alicent nodded gravely. “Yes. It’s a show of trust and power between them. It’s not common, but it does happen. The prince’s request isn’t entirely unexpected, though it’s rarely spoken of openly.”
Isabella felt a wave of disbelief wash over her. “But how does this work? Would I be betraying the king if I accept this?”
Alicent sighed, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t think so. When I was in the harem, I witnessed the endless parties they had. Dara was passed between them like a serving tray… I think they enjoy this.”
Isabella’s mind raced as she processed this information. The notion of being shared, even by the king’s command, felt deeply unsettling. She glanced at the sapphire tiara, a symbol of Damian’s intentions, and her unease grew.
“What should I do, Alicent? How can I refuse without causing a rift?”
Alicent placed a comforting hand on Isabella’s arm. “Well, Isabella, I think the question is… Do you want to refuse it?”
Isabella lay awake in the king's bed, her mind racing with the implications of Damian's proposal. She didn’t want to create trouble or misstep, uncertain of how the king truly felt about this situation. The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she resolved to address it directly with him the next morning.
During breakfast, Isabella carefully broached the subject. She waited until they were alone, the king savoring his meal, before speaking. "My king, there is something I need to discuss with you."
He looked up, his expression curious. "What is it, Isabella?"
She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Last night, Prince Damian seemed to be courting me. He sent me gifts and made his intentions clear. I need to know if this bothers you, or if you wish to share me with him."
The king's eyes darkened slightly, but he kept his composure. "What do you want, Isabella?"
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I wish to do whatever pleases you. Your desires are what matter to me."
The king went silent, his gaze searching hers. The tension in the room was palpable, and Isabella felt her heart pounding in her chest. She needed to know where she stood.
"If it would please you," she continued, "I would gladly lay with Prince Damian. But if you have any true feelings for me and wish to keep me all for yourself, then I would not."
The king's expression darkened suddenly, a flash of anger clouding his features. Isabella's heart sank as she realized her words had struck a nerve.
"Isabella," he said, his voice cold and sharp, "do not confuse your position with foolish notions of love or commitment. You are not my wife. You are my concubine."
His words cut through her, the harshness of his tone a stark contrast to the tenderness he had shown moments before. Isabella lowered her gaze, trying to steady her breathing, the sting of his reprimand echoing in her ears.
"You are here because you have pleased me," he continued, his eyes hard. "Do not mistake that for something more. Your duty is to serve, obey and bear my children, nothing else. Damian courts you because I allowed him to. The choice I give you is a mere gift, I don’t care if he fucks you as long as you return whole and childless. Do you understand?"
Isabella nodded slowly, her heart heavy with a mix of disappointment and shame. "I understand, my king. I did not mean to overstep."
As they continued their breakfast in silence, Isabella felt a mixture of relief and lingering unease. She had learned where she stood, but the king's harsh reminder of her status was a bitter pill to swallow. Despite the king's feelings and their shared moments, she was reminded of the precarious nature of her position. The king, as he said himself, gave her a choice. She had a decision to make.
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