Chapter LXXXIX: Ease
Lady Belet was summoned to the king's royal office, where she entered with a respectful bow. "Your Majesty," she greeted him, her voice calm and steady. "You wished to see me?"
The king looked up from the parchment on his desk, his expression contemplative. "Yes, Lady Belet. I wanted to ask you about Isabella. Is she alright?"
Lady Belet hesitated for a moment, her eyes carefully observing the king's face. "I believe Lady Isabella is alright, yes," she replied. "May I ask why Your Majesty is concerned?"
The king leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant as he recalled the previous day's events. "She seemed... strange yesterday. She was crying and claimed it was because of a book, but I didn’t quite believe it."
Lady Belet nodded slowly, considering her words before speaking. "Isabella has been quite stressed lately, Your Majesty."
The king's attention sharpened, and he leaned forward slightly. "Why is that?"
Lady Belet hesitated again, weighing the implications of what she was about to say. "Isabella is anxious, Your Majesty. She desperately wants to become pregnant again and give you another child. She’s been requesting the midwives to examine her regularly, and I believe this is contributing to her unease."
The king's expression became thoughtful, his brow furrowing slightly. "You think this anxiety is making her act strangely?"
Lady Belet inclined her head. "Isabella became pregnant easily the first time, and having the prince brought her immense joy. Now that the prince no longer feeds from her, she might be feeling a bit... lost. The desire to bear another child is weighing heavily on her mind."
The king remained silent for a moment, digesting Lady Belet's words. "So, you think her distress is rooted in this?"
Lady Belet nodded. "I believe so, Your Majesty. Isabella is placing a lot of pressure on herself to conceive again, and it’s likely causing her to feel unsettled." A heavy silence fell upon the room for a few seconds, "Your Majesty, is that all you wished to discuss?"
The king shook his head. "No, Lady Belet, that wasn’t even the main reason I summoned you here. I actually wanted to discuss the release of my other concubines from the harem."
Lady Belet blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard by the king’s words. She had known that Isabella often spoke of this, but she never truly believed the king would follow through with such a drastic decision. "Your Majesty, you wish to release your concubines?" she asked, her voice carefully measured.
The king nodded. "Yes. But I cannot do this as an act of forgiveness and liberation, it would make me look weak. I want you to discreetly arrange marriages for them or find other suitable occupations, according to what would best fit each one of them. "
Lady Belet quickly composed herself and nodded in agreement. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will begin working on this immediately."
"Good," the king replied. "Keep me informed." The king’s expression softened slightly as he considered his decision. "Do you think this could make Isabella feel better? I’m doing this for her, I want her to be happy."
Lady Belet smiled gently. "I believe it will, Your Majesty. This gesture will likely bring her some peace."
The king gave a curt nod, signaling the end of the conversation.
Lady Belet set to work immediately, following the king's orders to discreetly dismiss the concubines from the harem. Over the course of several months, she carefully arranged for the departures of three women, each under the guise of new opportunities that would suit their skills and desires.
Two of the concubines were sent to join the Order of the Sisterhood of the Flames, a revered and pious group known for their devotion and service to the temple. Their transition was framed as a spiritual calling, a path that would allow them to live with honor and purpose beyond the confines of the harem.
The third concubine was dispatched to Lady Belet’s own castle in Deravan, where she would serve as a Lady of the Arts. There, she was tasked with teaching music, dance, and painting to the children of Lady Belet’s small court. This role, while less prestigious and glamorous than her former position as a royal concubine of the Dragon King, gave her the freedom to explore and nurture her talents while conserving a more honorable stance.
The harem, once a place of quiet routine, became a hub of agitation as these changes unfolded. The concubines, already unsettled by the recent and tragic death of Lady Jia at the hands of Prince Damian, grew increasingly suspicious and fearful. Whispers circulated through the chambers, with each departure only adding to the tension. Some wondered if they, too, would be sent away, while others feared for their safety, uncertain of what the future held in a court that seemed to be changing before their eyes.
Four of the eight concubines still residing in the harem gathered in the palace garden, where the scent of blooming flowers did little to soothe the growing tension between them. The recent departures of their peers had left everyone on edge, and their whispered conversation was filled with anxiety as they speculated on who would be next.
Lady Dara sat apart from the group, her usual air of quiet contemplation masking the storm of emotions swirling within her. One of the girls, eager to lighten the oppressive mood, joked, "Dara, it certainly won’t be you. You’ll be here until we’re all old and grey, haunting these harem walls long after the king’s lost interest in us." The others giggled, but Dara’s eyes flashed with anger.
"Keep laughing," she snapped, her voice laced with venom, "but we’ll see who has the last word."
One of the girls, sensing the shift in Dara’s tone, tried to defuse the situation. "Dara, why don’t you focus on winning Lady Belet’s favor again? She’s the one arranging these releases. If you want to leave the harem on your own terms, she’s your best option."
Dara’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, her voice low and dangerous. "You really think Belet is the one pulling the strings? You’re all idiots. The real mastermind behind this is that redheaded bitch, Isabella. She’s poisoning the king’s mind, turning him against us. If we don’t get rid of her, we’ll all end up like Jia—forgotten, or worse."
The other women fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances. The memory of Lady Jia’s fate still haunted them, and the idea that someone could challenge the king’s favorite was almost unthinkable. One of the girls, nervous but determined, spoke up, "But Dara, Isabella is the mother of the crown prince. She doesn’t even live in the harem anymore. How could we possibly get rid of her? She’s the king’s favorite, and that’s not something we can change."
Dara’s lips curled into a sneer, her voice cold and filled with a dark resolve. "Favorite? I was the king’s favorite long before Isabella ever caught his eye. I know what it takes to stay on top, and I will be again. Mark my words. Isabella may have his ear now, but she’s nothing more than a phase—a distraction. I’ve survived in this harem for years, and I didn’t get this far by being weak. I know how to reclaim what’s mine."
The other women shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Dara’s words sinking in. They had no love for Isabella, but they were also not blind to the power she wielded. To challenge her was to challenge the king himself, and that was a dangerous game to play.
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