SarcasmPersonified

Romina nodded and didn’t press further. The king worked in ways that often her mind couldn’t comprehend. But she knew better than to try to question his decisions. So she didn’t share her worries about how Helena taking kindly to the request of warming his bed was something she deemed highly improbable. Even if from her only watching was required, Romina couldn’t imagine the princess managing to keep her mouth shut. This would require another serious conversation with Helena, one more of the many to come, if the princess's behaviour so far acted as a window into the future. “I shall try and instill some sense into her,” she declared, determined to tackle the arduous task, after breaking the kiss. Her forehead rested against his shoulder for a short moment, as if to ready herself for what was about to come, and then she was trading places with Aiko.

Aiko hesitated only for a second, as if afraid of what would leave Helena’s mouth the moment her hand no longer kept her from speaking. Her gaze flickered between the outstretched arm of the king and the narrowed eyes of the northern princess. Her fingers clasped around Horatius hand, her gaze still locked on Helena. There was apprehension in the way her body moved as the hand over Helena’s mouth slowly came down. The fear that the other would spill more filth remained, but Romina’s presence steadied her nerves. The currents lured her towards the king, and she let her body move across gracefully. “She’s just tired,” Aiko reassured, but it sounded more like a desperate attempt to convince herself. Her body molded against Horatius like it was carved by the gods themselves to fit against every line, plane, and curve. She snuggled close, seeking the comfort of his warmth. On his other side, Amita found a comfortable spot under his arm. She didn’t mention the incident, opting for a more joyful topic of conversation. “I have been developing a new perfume. With the aid of Aiko, she has grown just the right herbs and flowers. It’s still a work in progress. But I am confident that soon it will be ready.” Aiko nodded, excited. "The scent is intoxicating. But it does not last long enough on the skin. I must find a way to help it stick for a longer time."

Helena was waiting in the same spot she had taken when they first got into the waters, impassible, immobile, with the same detachment of someone who is watching a storm reach their home. Romina grabbed her hand without muttering a word and pulled her into the furthest corner of the pools. It wasn’t exactly private; if they turned their heads, they could still see the outlines of the other three, but the fountain in between provided a false sense of sheltering. “Helena,” she started, forcing the girl to look at her. “I believed you to be an intelligent woman.” That was bound to strike a nerve. “You’re no longer home, Helena. You have lost the privilege to address the king with such liberties because he is no longer your father or brother, willing to indulge in infinite patience with their beloved family member. He is your king, Helena. You’re just another subject, no different from the men and women that serve at the palace. Your life is not yours anymore, you handed it to him.” She placed one hand on each of Helena’s shoulders. “Don’t mistake patience for weakness. He might not react the way you expect when you poke him, but he won’t allow you to disrupt the peace of the other women. You must understand. He is the father of my child. Of Aiko’s daughters. Of the children of a few other women you have yet to meet. Aiko is a gentle soul who will forgive you, but some others won’t be so kind. Don’t you understand that when you call him a madman you’re also calling our children mad? Our own flesh? Don’t outcast yourself before even getting installed.” A pause. “Helena, you’re not returning home. You must abandon such an idea.” Helena’s gaze dropped to the floor. And Romina understood what it was all about. “You were always bound to leave your home; such is the life of a princess. But here you shall have a family. We shall take care of you.”  Helena’s eyes were red with the struggle of keeping the tears from falling. “Is there no escape? I would rather be thrown away in a cell. If I am to be a prisoner, then let it be the right way.” Romina shook her head. “Listen, Helena, you do not have to be happy about it, but you must behave. Respect us, your sisters. And respect the king. And in doing so you will be respecting yourself.”  

“I’m sure she is, bet don’t fret for a moment longer.” A kiss atop Aiko’s head before turning to look to Amita. She’d always had a marvellous capacity for scents, her and Aiko both. “Wonderful. Well I hope to smell it upon you both in the near future. But let’s me honest, the pair of you are both intoxicating enough as it is. If you become even more so, we might never leave my chambers.” He teased. He was glad Romina had selected the two of them to welcome him home. He had great affection for all the women that populated the harem, but there was an ease with Amita and Aiko. Rare was it that they came to him with conflict or to discuss the internal politics of the group. Though admittedly Amita still hadn’t been here that long so there was still time for her to fall in the vortex of the harem’s politics. They both seemed to walk on air, with angelic grace he might add. “Have you been afforded much time with our little ones, Aiko?” He queried. The next couple days would be spent revelling with his troops and indulging in the company of his concubines. But he must also make time for his children, to regale them with tales from his journey. The appropriate takes that is.

“Oh and Amita… any news from our last night together?” It had been Amita who warmed his bed the night before he’d set out on the road of conquest. It was an evening spent trying to bestow upon her the gift that both Romina and Aiko had been bestowed. The gift of being full with his child. He’d hoped to return to news of her falling pregnant. He knows her temperament would make her a perfect mother. But he’d not inspected her body, not been able to tell beneath the water if there were any signs.

As he talked to his lovers, he kept one ear honed on Romina and Helena. He couldn’t catch much, Romina had a talent for subtly. It was difficult to tell how much she was getting through to Helena. He could simply just hope and pray that she would. Soon.

Romina hummed in agreement, having expected that answer. Tradition dictated that the first feast after a victory belonged to the champions, but there was no harm in double-checking. “The men deserve their leisure after fighting so gallantly. And so do you, my king.” Her grip tightened ever so slightly, adding the right amount of pressure to increase the sensations. “But you will be missed.” Her words a perfect balance between acceptance and disappointment. She filed that for later. A full gathering required certain preparations to ensure it ran smoothly. “I will have the kitchens prepare your favourite.” And they will need wine. Copious amounts of the red liquid. Her moves stilled for a fraction of a second. It was almost imperceptible, but it happened. And because of that, she threw herself to the task with renovated vigor, the strokes now quickening. “All four?” She asked it with caution. It wasn’t an attempt to question his decision; it was a subtle way to point out that if a tranquil night was what he was after, then perhaps having Helena join him was going to disrupt his plans. 

Tension was palpable in the air. Aiko had stopped breathing without even realizing. Amita was so still she could have been confused with a bronze statue. And Romina was staring at Helena like she could will the words back into the younger woman’s mouth out of sheer will. But Helena remained impassive, refusing to break eye contact. But neither the direct accusation nor her harsh stare seemed to have any effect on Horatius. Aiko let out a long sigh, flashing the king a sweet smile. Amita returned the squeeze, going back to her task. But Romina didn’t move, certain that Helena wasn’t done. As it would come to be, she would happen to be right. 

“All of them?” Disbelief and horror mixed in Helena’s voice. When Horatius had laid out the proposition, she had believed him to be a cruel but intelligent man. Taking a daughter, mother, sister, or wife of the preceding king was a way to ensure submission. A way to suffocate a rebellion before it had the time to even gestate. A family wouldn’t risk a treasured member even to regain their country. Even from thousands of miles away, Horatius could still hold an iron grip on his subjects. Just a little letter reminding the former royals about who he had by his side and how he could hurt her and any attempt at uprising would be dampened. She had assumed he tossed them into a prison and threw the key away. Even with the ramifications clearly explained, she had believed it was only to break her father’s spirits. To make him feel guilt till the day he died. But the scene in front of her was maddening. And the women’s participation made it even more infuriating. “You’re a madman.” It wasn't an accusation or an insult. It was a conclusion. "You have lost your mind."

The gasp that left Aiko reverberated across the tinted glasses. She clamped a hand over Helena’s mouth and turned the woman to look at her. “You cannot say that,” she clamored, her tone hushed. “It’s not true.” She shook her head, tears prickling at her eyes. “Apologize.” It was as much an order as it was a plea. But the way Helena’s chin stood proud indicated that she would rather endure punishment than take her words back. 

On the other side, Amita had dug her nails into Horatius' shoulder without realizing. Helena was only the second woman Amita welcomed into the harem, but there were no tales of anyone having dared such boldness. Even the previous difficult cases had harbored a sense of self-preservation strong enough to make them mind their words. “She does not mean it,” she tried, voice soft and coaxing. “She’s tired. She is getting used to the idea of being far from home. She is just testing you.” Romina sighed. “I shall talk to her.”

The words that followed were no less harsh than the ones that had proceeded them. So like the former, they had little impact on Horatius. He knew his mind, knew his intentions. While she may struggle to grasp his feelings, in time she’d come to see what he saw. That being said he did feel a sensation of pain within his soul. It was in the reaction of Aiko, how hurt she was by Helena’s remarks. It was the look he’d only ever witnessed in the eyes of a true believer in the presence of an unrepentant blasphemer. Aiko had always possessed a gentle heart, which made it all the easier to break. 

That along with the slight wince that came from Amita’s nails. Normally he did not mind being marked by her, but not when it came from distress. 

“See that you do. See that she understands a care little what she may say to me, but she may not upset the rest so harshly.” He whispered in the ear of his longest serving lover. A finger placed beneath her chin so that he might kiss her, tenderly, sweetly, with just enough hunger. “Aiko, my dear, come to me. Put her words out of your mind. Let me show you the falseness of her sentiment.” He outstretched an arm for her to come to his side. As he awaited her, he turned to look to Amita “you may stop now, Amita. Come, rest at my other side and tell me of all that you’ve done since we last spoke.” A brief catch-up would afford Romina ample time to talk with Helena.

The women laughed at his joke. And it sounded so genuine that Helena only wished to sink into the water and never come out again. No part of her could fathom how three women, all different from the other, had grown so content with an imposed life. Aiko nodded, always willing to please, and moved across the waters with the grace and elegance of a swan. “That won’t be necessary,” Helena tried to dissuade, her voice raising slightly with panic. Romina fixed her with yet another gaze, and Helena slowly blew all the air in her lungs through her nose before adding, “My king.” The word was rough, like it had physically hurt her to say it. Aiko swam around the new woman before settling at her back. “Relax, it’s been a long trip.” Her hands were gentle and sweet, pressing on the points that carried the tension. Against her will, Helena felt her body relax under the ministrations. 

Across the pools, Romina moved closer, coming to stand next to Horatius. The touch he was seeking was one she was familiar with, and her hand found his length under the water without needing to ask where he wished to be touched. Long fingers wrapped around his thickness, her touch gentle as she stroked him into hardness. “Will you join us for dinner, your highness? Or shall your men hold that honour?” Amita didn’t seem fazed, her moves never stopping. One woman washing his back while the other pleasured him. And a conversation that flowed as naturally as if it were taking place at a table. Romina kept pumping him, the strokes short and precise. She wasn’t making a show out of it, not yet, not unless he asked. “Who shall I appoint to warm your bed? Or do you wish for rest after such a long journey?” Oftentimes, Romina would arrange a sort of schedule, a rotation that ensured every woman got at least one night with the king per month. It was not set in stone; the king’s wishes always stood above any previous plan. But it helped ease the tension, providing equal opportunities for pregnancy for those in the harem who sought it. It was a way to keep the tensions and jealousy to a minimum. 

Helena watched without truly believing her eyes. The way Aiko kept massaging her back was not enough to melt her resistance. “What happens when we get with child?” Her voice carried across the room, the defiance loud as thunder. “Do we get discarded, turned into broken toys?” It was bound to happen with so many women gathered in the same living quarters. Perhaps that explained why he kept claiming war prizes because the ones he already had were deemed useless. Behind her, Aiko froze, her hands hovering over Helena’s shoulders. No one had ever dared the question so directly, so openly. It was something discussed in the privacy of their bedrooms, where no one but them could hear. Similarly to Aiko, Amita gulped, her movements steadying. Romina went stiff, something like exasperation flickering behind her eyes. "Helena," she warned, voice sharp.

His focus shifted as Romina came to his side and her palm came to wrap around his length. His cock fitted between her digits like a puzzle piece finally finding its natural place. No one quite knew his body as she did. “Mm as much I would love to, but you know how it is. The men expect a speech after a victory.” Which he did not necessarily mind. The only people he spent more time with than the women of the harem was the soldiers he stormed into battle with. Men and women who’d picked up swords and pledged to give their lives out of faith in his rule and word. There were many who he would reject in favour of the harem, but not his faithful soldiers and knights. “Tomorrow evening. I would address the whole harem. It has been far too long since I last saw all their faces in one place.” Even prior to marching north, the weeks and months leading into the conflict had been spent in preparation. It had afforded him very little time to indulge in pleasure.

“Oh I’ve known rest on the path home. Tonight I would see my bed warmed with the tender body of another. I would request… all the women currently occupying the bath.” Greedy perhaps, but that was his right. It would also afford him an opportunity to demonstrate to Helena the pecking order.

The words that shot forty from Helena’s mouth were as direct as an arrow from a bow. She was a defiant one. He couldn’t tell if these words were out of anger, fear or simply to attempt to get a rise from him. A different rise than the one Romina was aiding in. He saw the tension in the other women, he was quick to ease it. “It’s okay, Romina.” He whispered to her, laying a kiss upon her cheek. A hand coming to his shoulders to squeeze the hand of Amita gently and a sweet glance aimed at Aiko. He considered his words for a moment. “If that were the then the woman currently soothing your aches would have been discarded twice over.” Aiko had gifted him with two children, both beautiful little girls. “Romina would not be warming my side as dutifully as she currently is.” Their son having been born a mere nine months into his reign. “I know not if the men of your land treated their lovers with such contempt. But know this, every woman whom I care for is treated with exactly that… care. Those who fall pregnant are honoured. Not done away with. It is my great home that all my loves will at one time or another be full with a child of mine.” Another gentle squeeze to Amita’s palm as he held Helena’s gaze.

Amita nodded once, dutifully moving to bare Romina of her clothes. The two worked together, undoing laces and removing the many layers of delicate fabric. The gowns Romina wore were beautiful, but they belonged to another time. When she was Queen, a real one, Romina had been the first to indulge in the latest trends. Her husband pampered her greatly, often ordering the finest pieces of both clothing and jewelry from local artisans and masters abroad alike. Her wardrobe so extensive it had to be moved to a separate, empty room. There was an outfit for every occasion, a matching tiara or crown. Her world reduced to fabrics and patterns and shapes. She held onto the dresses like a safeboard, an anchor that kept her sane. Her love for fashion might have dulled, but it never truly disappeared. She admired the garments the other women wore from afar. The newest additions brought fresher styles, and Romina found herself living vicariously through them. Never asking to touch, never asking to try on. But her eyes drank in every detail, absorbed every texture. 

Once the soft chemise hit the ground, pooling around Romina’s feet, both women turned towards Helena. There was no shame in them, no sheepishness. They walked around nude with the same confidence they carried their attire. Helena shook her head and took a step back. “I can undress myself,” she complained, but the cautious look Romina flashed her way, effectively shutting her up. With a heavy sigh that was meant to made her displeasure evident, Helena moved closer, letting the other women get her rid of the simple dress she was wearing. It wasn’t a hard task; the dress’s structure designed for comfort. A little pull at both sleeves, a little tugging at the hips, and the fabric fell loosely to her feet. The undergarments followed, but she removed those herself. And then she stood there, naked as the day she was born, in front of four complete strangers. Her body stiff, her hands fisted at each side of her body, stubbornly refusing to cover herself despite every impulse in her body urging her to do it. Helena wasn’t ashamed of her body. But the position stripped her of her independence to decide who got to see her nude. Amita grabbed her hand, squeezed softly, and walked her to the waters. “Don’t be scared, we are just going to wash you.” Romina guarded her behind, half afraid she would turn around and try to escape again. 

In the water, Aiko was already washing Hoatius’ back with the practiced ease of someone who has done it a million times. Her moves delicate and precise, lingering in just the right places. She had led him into the waters by the hand, their fingers intertwined, walking a few steps in front of him so he could watch the way her hips purposefully swayed with every step. Aiko had, indeed, missed him. His company was a source of great enjoyment for her, even if that made her unpopular in the eyes of some of the other women. But Aiko didn’t mind. Because her sisters were miserable while she found joy in every day. They could think her a traitor; she didn’t care. 

Amita promptly joined Aiko, two sets of hands working diligently on rubbing away the invisible scars of war. Romina found a privileged place close to the stairs, and Helena, Helena found the furthest point from the other four and settled there. Silence filled the room for a blissful moment, the only sounds the splashes of the water around the moving bodies and the occasional giggle from the women washing the king. Helena took in the scene with a mix of incredulity and disgust. The warm water was soothing her sore muscles, washing away the dirt from the journey and her failed attempts at escaping. “So is this all there is to it? Frolicking around nude like some sort of Greek mythological creature? Feeding our god grapes in the mouth and fanning him?”

His gaze came to meet Helena’s. He’d not truly allowed himself the opportunity to appreciate her visage. At least not since she’d been stripped of her attire. Her beauty had been evident on the battlefield, even beneath all that armour. But to say she was a visage that only the gods could have dreamed up would be an understatement. “Well don’t be silly, of course not. I don’t like grapes” He teased, not taking any of what she’d said at all personally. “We do also occasionally wear clothing.” Although in the centre of the harem’s wing that was exceedingly rare. He looked to Akio over his shoulder and whispered “Helena looks lonely. Why don’t you show her just how good you are with your hands.” If anyone could drag a smile out of another it was his little Akio.

“Romina, come here. I’ve missed your touch as well.” Though he wasn’t speaking of the massaging touch Amita and Akio had been bestowing upon him. He was seeking a touch beneath the water. Horatius did well to keep Romina on side. When he was away, either dealing with matters of diplomacy and war, he relied upon her to keep the harem in order. It was a task that only she could do. There would be occasions where he would sow some seeds of conflict between the members. Nothing of any great consequence, but never her. After all she was the first to bare him a child. For that she would always hold a special place for him. But even as much as he trusted her, some distance had to be maintained. One might presume their child would be the heir to the throne. But he kept the details of which of his children would be his successor closely guarded. Only he knew that detail. In the event of his death his steward knew where he’d hidden the official letter of his successor. It was a letter updated and amended many times. 

“Oh after countless moons of knowing only the comfort of my own hands to bathe, what fool would I be to pass up the assistance of these tended palms.” The King mused with a smile as he approached Akio and Amita, leaving Romina to tend to the rebellious princess. He chuckled at the two women’s remarks. Akio had always been sweet, had taken to her duties with a genuine eagerness that always warmed the man’s heart. Similarly Amita showed a similar spirit, still little more than a new arrival herself and yet she had already claimed a prominent position in the hierarchy of the harm. Horatius by in large left the internal politics of the group alone, yet it fascinated him none the less.

“I too have awaited returning to you both, to all of you with great impatience. The moment I knew the day was won, his was exactly how I envisioned my grand return.” Before long they had entered the wing which housed the harem. It was the second largest section of the palace, save only the Royal quarters themselves. Upon first entering its grand entrance way, one might mistake it for a cathedral for all its stain glass windows, typically depicting saints of the land. However look even a fraction longer and one sees that each window depicts one of the women who calls the place home. Depicted as the gods intended, bare and beautiful. At the centre of the room was the baths in question. Spiralling with fountains filling the pooled areas so that one might never lack for water. 

“Please, allow me the privilege of first watching you undress one another, before the joy of being undressed by your pristine palms.”

Romina nodded; it was a brief but charged gesture. An acknowledgement of his silent order. An order that was not necessary at all. It was no casualty that she had so carefully arranged for Aiko and Amita to take the king to the baths. A silky proposition that served a double purpose: keep the king content and allow the need for privacy to hold a conversation with Helena. The moment the doors closed, Romina turned on her heels. The placid, almost complacent smile she had been sporting sharpened into a harsher version. Still warm but carrying that edge that showcased there was no room for nonsense. “Come here, Helena. Sit with me.” 

Helena hesitated but joined Romina on one of the steps that served as a bench. The older woman didn’t grant him the privilege of speaking. “You are making this harder on yourself, Helena.” Romina’s voice was flat, almost professional. But her eyes shone with understanding. “You agreed to join us of your own volition. You knew what would be required of you. The king is not violent. He is not cruel. But he is but a man. He has limits. Expectations.” Romina’s eyes found Helena’s at that part. “You have become his wife in all but name now. You are to obey his commands, tend for him, entertain him, and perform your wifely duties just like you would have with a real husband.” She paused, let the weight of it sink in before continuing. “But don’t be fooled, you have no claim on him.” That was the official speech. The one every new incorporation got. “The king has his favourites; it's something human. He would never admit to it out loud, and he does not neglect any of us, never. But he does.” She swallowed, her voice dropping. “There are a lot of us and just one him. If you don’t stand out, if you don’t become a favourite, you will only see him intimately twice or thrice every couple of weeks. The rest of the time you will be allowed to keep to yourself.” She didn’t wait. Stood up and took Helena with her. “Now, you’re going to take a bath because that’s what your king requires of you. You’re going to get into the warm water without fussing, and you’re going to smile. Understood?” 

Helena remained quiet for a long moment, processing. Then she nodded, just once. “I will bathe. But I shall not smile. I shall not smile ever again.” 

The baths stood proud at the center of their home, a place the women had turned into much more than just a utility. Often they gathered there to chat and relax. Some liked to take their embroidery labors with them; others curled with a book. It was the centre of their lives. Amita and Aiko were amongst the few that favored the chamber over any other room in the wing. Aiko was first to nod. Closing the distance between her and the other woman in two short strides. Her tender hands worked on the lacing of the gonws, undoing it with practiced ease. For most, adapting to the new life had been hard in different degrees. But Aiko had been raised with the sole purpose of serving her future husband. Her life had always looked like a more oppressive version of the one she was leading now. With Horatius, at least, she had been allowed a sense of autonomy. The freedom to speak her mind, always respectful, without facing punishment. And he was always kind to her. Amita’s gown pooled to her feet, baring her to the colored lighting and the eyes of the other two occupants. Then she turned around, feeling the warm hands of Amita brush against her as the other woman started peeling layer after layer of silk from her body. It took a little longer to undress Aiko, her traditional clothing heavier than Amita’s. Inch after inch of skin slowly revealed to the cool air of the baths. 

When they were both nude, they turned to Horatius. “Your turn, my king,” Amita claimed, walking behind him at the same time that Aiko lowered herself to her knees, her tiny hands reaching for one of his heavy boots, then the other. Amita started by undoing the fastenings of his vest, her arms wrapped around him from behind. The women worked in tandem, peeling off every piece of clothing with a reverence that bordered on adoration, taking their time, enjoying the process, leaving soft caresses behind. The vest was removed, placed aside with the boots. The shirt followed, Amita’s hands tender as she guided the garment up his arms. She pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder, fingertips ghosting over the expanse of his back. Aiko, still on her knees, unfastened his breeches, helping him step out of them along with his underwear, her own hands warm as they traced the outline of his thighs. 

His arms were held outstretched at his side at her announcement of it now being his turn for undressing. He watched with eager eyes as the two women worked so dutifully to release him from his attire. He’d washed in the days since the successful conquest, but the water found on the road was less than adequate. He was clean, in theory, but he would not do the women the disservice of kissing them, touching them as they should be touched, not till he was adequately cleansed. Not just of the lingering grime and blood, but the whole stench of war that he despises so greatly. A gentle smirk was aimed at Akio as her fingers traced along his thighs, “someone has missed me, haven’t they? But please keep those hands of yours away from my nether regions till we are beneath the water. Wouldn’t want them ruined.” He teased.

Head turned at the sound of Romina joining them. Smirk still graced his features. He could always count on Romina to instill a sense of duty. Or if nothing else, a sense of self preservation. “I can see that she is.” The King murmured. Gaze shifted to Amita, “Darling, why don’t you aid Romina. Help her out of her attire, then the two of you shall see that Helena is removed from her garments. Once that is taken care of, you may join Akio and I in the baths.” He then looked to Akio, gesturing in the direction of the waters. “Please, lead the way.” Not that he needed to be guided, he simply enjoyed the view of her doing so.

Helena could feel the weight of three pairs of eyes on her, assessing, reading into her soul to try and gather an impression of her character. It was a mirror that shone on both sides, for she was doing the same. The three women moved as a unit. A soft front of smiles and warmth that hid a steel ruling. They remained silent, passive in the king’s presence. Until he brought up the bath. Romina nodded, flashing Aiko and Amita a look that both women understood immediately. With a cutsy, both disappeared, likely to order the servants to heat the water. 

Romina took a step forward, a question on her tongue. But before she could speak, a voice broke through the silence. 

Helena had frozen. Her eyes went wide before they became sharp with defiance. “I will not bathe with you.” The words venomous, spat with utter disgust. “I am in no need of a washing. I quite enjoy the dirt and sweat on my skin.” Romina went stiff. Aiko and Amita had returned just in time to catch the scene. Amita’s hands flew to her mouth. Aiko’s face a mask of terror. 

But then Romina smiled, soft and disturbingly calm. “Your Majesty, we shall have your bath ready in mere minutes. Aiko and Amita can help you out of your clothes if you wish.” Her gaze flickered to the women who were already walking to him. “You must be tired. Grant us the privilege of caring for you.” Amita grabbed one of his hands, Aiko the other, and both gently dragged him towards the doors leading to the private chambers. “The days have been too long without you, your highness,” Aiko coaxed sweetly. Amita nodded, squeezing his hand. “We have been awaiting your return impatiently.”

“Oh after countless moons of knowing only the comfort of my own hands to bathe, what fool would I be to pass up the assistance of these tended palms.” The King mused with a smile as he approached Akio and Amita, leaving Romina to tend to the rebellious princess. He chuckled at the two women’s remarks. Akio had always been sweet, had taken to her duties with a genuine eagerness that always warmed the man’s heart. Similarly Amita showed a similar spirit, still little more than a new arrival herself and yet she had already claimed a prominent position in the hierarchy of the harm. Horatius by in large left the internal politics of the group alone, yet it fascinated him none the less.

“I too have awaited returning to you both, to all of you with great impatience. The moment I knew the day was won, his was exactly how I envisioned my grand return.” Before long they had entered the wing which housed the harem. It was the second largest section of the palace, save only the Royal quarters themselves. Upon first entering its grand entrance way, one might mistake it for a cathedral for all its stain glass windows, typically depicting saints of the land. However look even a fraction longer and one sees that each window depicts one of the women who calls the place home. Depicted as the gods intended, bare and beautiful. At the centre of the room was the baths in question. Spiralling with fountains filling the pooled areas so that one might never lack for water. 

“Please, allow me the privilege of first watching you undress one another, before the joy of being undressed by your pristine palms.”

The news had been delivered a couple of moons ago. Another kingdom had succumbed to Horatious' sword. Outside, people clamored and celebrated. Fortune favored the king and his people. For the commoners, a new victory meant abundance. But in that wing of the palace, another land succumbing to the king meant one thing: a new incorporation to the harem. Many pitied the poor soul, having been in those same shoes themselves. A few eagerly awaited the king’s return; the promise of spending some alone time with the king and meeting a new sister coiling their stomachs with excitement. Most simply sighed and continued with their days. 

For Romina, it translated into preparations. Time to stop and think about her feelings was a luxury she could not grant herself. The royal emissary had claimed the king and his army were only a day and a half behind. The court would celebrate, food and wine served in copious amounts. Music would fill the grand hall. Laughter would echo and reverberate against the stone walls. But in that wing of the castle, where she ruled, a different type of ceremony would take place. Romina had been the first to join Horatiou’s harem, and for a short while the only one, and that honour had been rewarded by allowing her to maintain some of her former dignity. She remained the head of the house, so to say, although the position resembled more a housekeeper than a Queen. But the title prevailed. The hierarchy stood. It gave her the illusion of power.

The assembly members had been handpicked by Romina herself. Aiko, the third to join the secret wing of the castle, and one of the few who hadn’t seen it as undignifying from the beginning. And Amita, a recent incorporation that had adapted well, close to age to the princess from the northern lands if the recalls from travelers were anything to go by. The three of them were to welcome the princess into their family. Show her the ropes. Help her understand that was her new life and it was better to accept it. 

Only Princess Helena was infamous in the courts of every educated kingdom for her rebelliousness. She marched into battle rather than hosting balls. Clasped herself in shiny armor instead of silky gowns and had made well known her vow not to take a husband. Wilder spirits had been tamed at her hands, but Romina knew it was going to take time. 

The trumpets clamored right as the sun rose. The servants rushed into formation, a long line of bowed heads and clasped hands. Romina ushered the princesses and queens to ready themselves. Amita and Aiko were already waiting by that wing of the castle's throne room doors, both looking radiant. Romina gave their hands a gentle squeeze before pushing the doors open. 

“Your Majesty, it’s delightful to have you return to us victorious,” she greeted, vowing to him. Behind her, the other two did the same. Amita and Aiko moved to take his cape off, both praising their own gods for his safe return. But before they could speak further, the doors were yanked open, and a woman was pushed inside by two guards. She looked tired. But mostly, she looked angry. “I can walk by myself,” she spat at the guards, all but growling at them. Helena had tried to escape four times during the journey back to the mainlands, delaying the arrival by several days. Given that her goal was not to arrive at all, it was a feat that filled her with great pride. But all the anger and frustration vanished in a second when her eyes landed on the three women. Confusion flickered in her eyes. She had known. She had agreed to become part of it to ensure her father and brother were spared their lives. But she had not expected to be faced with so much… acceptance. “Are you fooling me?” 

It was a bloody affair, but then it always was. What had been unusual was the presence of a Princess upon the battle field. He’d known female warriors, his army had more than its fair share itself. But this was the first time he’d done battle with Princess. They’d briefly crossed blades upon the field of battle. He hadn’t the opportunity to test her true might, such was the chaos of this particular conflict. But her face had remained fixed in his mind. Rarely did he know whom he would claim when the day was won, but he’s known in that moment that she was to be his.

And his she would be. Though she proved more than a tad troublesome on the journey home. He’s sure that Romina will work her magic on the rebellious soul. 

“Romina, Amita, Akio… you are all warm welcome sights to tired eyes.” He mused with a gentle smile. A soft nod to the ladies as they collect his cape from his attire. He’d bathed since the last battle of the latest conflict, but he never truly felt clean until he was seen to by their gentle hands. Before he could make such a request, their newest member was forced into the room. Days of travel certainly hadn’t dulled her defiance. Which in a strange way, Horatius did admire.

“Princess Helena, I am many things, but duplicitous is not among them. When I spoke of the women of my harem, I meant every word. My ladies, this is Helena. I trust you will welcome her as you have so many before her. I am on need of a good bath. Helena too. Romina, if you would do the honour of showing us to the baths.”

she  knew  his  words  were  true.      why  wouldn't  they  be  .ᐣ        yet  every  time  she  was  with  him,    she  felt  a  pang  of  guilt.    the  type  that  rarely  vanished,  especially  when  she  saw  him      &      the  queen  together.  ava  knew  their  marriage  was  for  show,    for  heirs  to  continue  his  line.    oh  she  wished  she  was  his  queen.    she  wished  she  could  be  the  one  giving  him  heirs.    but  wishing  such  things  never  went  well.    not  in  this  kingdom.    not  when  your  father  wasn't  well  off.            

“No, no it’s not.” Heavens did he just want to kiss her. To just hold her and touch her and love her. But Horatius simply needed to remind himself that it wouldn’t just be himself that would suffer should their relationship be discovered, but Ava would surly suffer a fate ten times what he would. “Tell the Queen that you are ill. Make your apologies to her, that you wished to inform her in person. She won’t want to risk an illness herself. Find me in the gardens. Please.” The gardens in question were vast and restricted to only those given permission by the crown. They would go undisturbed there. For a time at least.

The recountings of encounters with Spider-Man were overwhelmingly positive in the vast majority. But a small fraction claimed the masked superhero was insufferable. While doing her research on people to keep an eye on, Yelena had brushed it off as that percentage of hate for the sake of hating that everyone who was doing something worthy of mention always seemed to stir. It was an indicator of good work. But now that she was face to face — or mask to face — with New York's friendly neighbour, she could see where that stemmed from. "Your neighborhood? I believed Spider-Man's hunting ground encompassed the whole of New York," she deadpanned, not giving him much besides a raised brow. His next barb had her narrowing her eyes, but a smirk curled her lips. "The posing is at 7. At 8 I can go work on big spy things."

“It’s a big neighbourhood.” He quipped back. Brow raised slightly at her next little remark. Was that an actual joke? She spoke with such a tone that it was difficult to tell. Or maybe it was hard to tell because no one ever joked back with him. Everyone’s always so dang serious. Peter too looked out across the compound, this was so much easier when he had stark tech. He’d be able to tell exactly how many people were in the building, the make of their weapons and how much lint they had in their pockets. Alas he’s only got his own homemade equipment these days. He can only go off of what his eyes can see and then what his spider sense alerts him to in the moment. “Yep.” He mused. He wasn’t going anywhere. As much as he might joke around, he took threats in his city deadly seriously.

He listened to her carefully. Normally when he was following someone’s orders in the past that person was at least a decade and a half older than him. She must be about Pete’s age, yet the confidence in her tone clearly betrayed a life time of experience that even he couldn’t fully fathom. “But what…” the question barely had time to leave his lips before she was hopping over the cat walk. “Just don’t… don’t kill anyone. Did she hear me? She definitely heard me. Now I’m just talking to myself.” Well no point just milking around. Webbing himself to the ceiling, Pete roamed from above. He needs to deal with the weapons yes, but first he needs something, anything that tells him their origin point. That’ll be the first thing destroyed when things kick off, which they almost certainly will.