The Ant Woman Ch. 07

Seafoam Attendant Bora was whimpering in her bed, on her belly, unable to get up on her own. One of her maids was dusting. The other was arranging food into snacks on a plate. Pollen Lady Hayun was sitting on a chair near Bora's bed, lightly smiling as Bora cursed Wen and everything she loved. Hayun took a cup of hot tea and drew in a sip. Then she lowered her cup, tapping the rim with the lid.

"Aside from yourself," Hayun said, "do you have anyone to blame?"

Hugging a pillow, her cheek resting on the soft pillowcase, Bora whined, "It's that Wen's fault! She's monopolized His Majesty's attention! How can anyone hope to have a royal child with that woman in the harem?!"

Putting her cup aside, Hayun said, "Seafoam Wen hasn't received His Majesty's grace. I don't know what's fluttering about in your mind. You're the one who tried to frame her for adultery. You've only harmed yourself." Hayun's eyelids winced as Bora let out another whine.

"Wen seduced His Majesty! How else could she have been sent to the harem without an audition?!"

With a long sigh, Hayun said, "That not for you to obsess over. You should reflect on your behavior." Then she rose and left the apartment, her maid following.

As Hayun walked down the hall, she wondered to herself, how did Wen manipulate His Majesty? He hadn't had any intimate meetings with her, but he was willing to change a law to please her. What in the world attracted him to her ... yet kept him away from her?

***

Wen believed her plan had been very successful.

Without even giving birth to a prince, without a high rank, she was now a respected concubine. And the workers, the people Wen believed to be vital, the people she believed truly managed a home, they seemed to generally like her. That was wonderful. Wen knew that if she ever needed a favor that only a servant could give, she'd have one.

She even had the support of the Empress Dowager, the highest ranking woman in the empire. For a Seafoam to have that woman's approval, well, that was certainly something.

The Empress Dowager had Wen as a guest for tea on this morning. Fruity black tea was served with an uranian blue tea set. Pink flowers and tiny poetry written in gold had been painted on each piece. Small, easily held desserts were also served. Confections made of sweetened bean paste had been given wild colors and shapes. Clusters of diced nuts had been coated in hardened syrup. And small cakes had been made of glutinous rice.

The Empress Dowager was laughing so much that she had to pat her bosom a few times. Wen had just told her a joke that bordered on vulgar, but still held a bit of truth, and the best jokes had some truth in them. "Oh my," the old woman said with a small cough, "you do have a strange mind, but I can't find even a drop of evil in you."

Wen poured a fresh cup of tea for the Dowager. "I'd never dare to hold an evil thought for too long."

"Oh?" The Dowager's saucer was lightly dragged as she took it. "You have evil thoughts after all?"

"Is there a person who never had an evil thought?" Wen eyed a confection shaped like a fish. She thought the fish looked sad. "Yesterday, I wondered how one could commit a murder and never be found out." She held the sweet little fish in her fingertips, careful not to crush it. "Today, as I painted my face, I wondered if it was possible to force someone to choke on rice powder." Her blue eyes pointed back up to the Dowager's mildly surprised face. "But I'd never murder anyone. I'm only a storyteller, and so, I revel in my secret little thoughts. They put realism in my prose."

The Dowager laughed again, but this time it was more restrained. "You're more practical than the other women in the harem."

"Your Grand Majesty is far too kind." Wen gave a short bow as she put her sweet fish down.

The Dowager then said something a little bit surprising as she leaned in, her hair ornaments shimmering. "At the end of summer, come with me to the Sunlight Temple to pray."

Wen's eyes nearly popped out and she almost choked on her tea. Her maid had to rub her back to calm her. Then, once Wen had her composure again, she left her chair and went down to her knees. "I humbly accept the Empress Dowager's kind offer. Thank you." She prostrated herself until the Dowager told her to get up.

After Wen left the Plum Aroma Palace, and when she was just inside the Sweet Carrot Palace, a eunuch told her that the Empress Consort was having a visit with Pollen Lady Kumi. Grateful for the warning, Wen started to make her way off to her apartment, but then the eunuch stopped her. "Her Majesty has requested that if you happen to come home while she's visiting, then she'd like to have your company too."

One of Wen's painted eyebrows rose, but otherwise she didn't give much of a reaction. She went to the reception room and saw Kumi and the Empress playing a board game while enjoying light snacks. Wen knelt down before them to politely introduce her presence. Then the Empress, with oddly lively eyes and a smirk, gestured for her to rise.

"Come and monitor the game for us," the Empress Consort said. "A mind as clever as yours would be very valuable."

Wen took a seat near the two women and watched them play. They seemed to have similar skills, or that's what Wen thought.

But something was wrong.

The flesh of Wen's throat and torso seemed to quiver with a secret knowledge. Whenever she looked up, she'd expect to see someone looking at her, but she couldn't find the source. Whoever was looking at her knew just when to turn their eyes away to avoid suspicion. Even when the game was finished and the Empress left the place, Wen felt as though something thick and sticky was dragging on her skin, dirtying her form.

She felt unpleasant for the rest of the day, and the worst part was that she didn't even know why.

***

Finally, after this little disaster, the Emperor was becoming too mentally exhausted and needy from all this denial.

He'd tried, honestly tried to have a kiss. He even explained what it was to this concubine. She was a Seed Consort, one level below the Empress and the mother of his other daughter. This Seed Consort was an elegant dancer with a mischievous smile.

But that smile was gone, replaced with a nervous tick.

She submitted well enough. Her long limbs moved with poise even as they wrapped around his body. Her painted fingernails raked down his back. She cooed as the Emperor glided his nose along her white throat.

But when the time came ...

The Emperor was able to hold her lips with his for a few seconds, and then his excitement spilled over and he let his tongue sneak into the soft crevice. That was when the Seed Consort cried out and literally kicked him off of her, and also off the bed. She regained her common sense, though, and she hurried to prostrate herself on the floor.

Her apology was breathy and frightened. The Emperor forgave her. After all, that interaction was so alien that it frightened her. He didn't want to force anything on her.

Yet he was so upset that he didn't think he could even cum in the most beautiful woman in the world if she wouldn't let him kiss her. That's how badly he wanted it.

So, the Emperor politely left that palace and went outside into his sedan chair. The lower eunuchs bore the poles onto their backs while Min Ji asked him in a hushed tone, "Where would His Majesty like to go now?"

His head tilted back for a moment, his eyes closed.

If anyone would be willing to do it ...

As his neck straightened, the Emperor said, "To my palace, but tell Seafoam Attendant Wen to visit me there."

***

Wen's teeth locked together. Her belly felt like she'd recently eaten moldy food. Her mouth was dry. When she was escorted to the Emperor's palace, her gait was wooden. Her gait was still wooden when she was taken to the lush Imperial Bedchamber, where the Emperor often slept when he wasn't staying with a palace's madam.

Alone. Wearing an excess of nice things, or more nice things than she'd normally wear. Still technically less than what a Seafoam Attendant would wear. The firelight didn't properly show her the amount of luxury in the room, but she was able to see many lovely things.

Wisteria, peonies, and azaleas were kept in yellow pots. Dressers and coffers has lacquer painted on their drawers and tabletops, with images of trees, dragons, flowers, and even beautiful fairy maidens. An alcove bed with an entrance hidden behind yellow curtains with flowing embroidery that imitated silver falling leaves. It was a nice place.

Her slippers were low. She could feel the sturdy wooden floor. She stepped onto a thick fur rug, wrapped her arms around herself, and closed her eyes.

Best case scenario, this would've been inevitable. Wen should be happy.

However, she was afraid of many things.

What if the Emperor was displeased by her body, or her actions? What if after it happened, she wouldn't be able to comfortably sleep beside him? Wen hated losing sleep. It made her feel sick. What if this earned negative attention from the other concubines? What if she got pregnant? That would truly stir the jealousy around, wouldn't it?

The room was warm, but she couldn't find the heat. It didn't matter that she stood in it. She might as well have been sitting in a pool of cool water.

Like a wet dog, Wen suddenly shook her head back and forth, her hair ornaments making scratchy, banging noises.

There was no way out of this. Generally speaking, what the Emperor wanted, he got.

A scuttling noise, an insect-like movement, it scratched and clawed through her mind. Her hands went to her ears and pressed in. Temporary madness had her trying not to weep.

"Wen."

She shook her head again. "Hm? What?"

A firm grip on her shoulder. "Are you ill?"

She was taken out of her tiny layer of worry. Holding her shoulder, looking down at her with troubled eyes, there was the Emperor.

Her lips were open. Wen shut them so quickly that she nearly bit herself. Has her hands lowered, Wen took a breath and put her confident mask back on. "Greetings to Your Majesty." She tried to kneel down, but he held her tightly and said no to that. At least it was a mild no. And as he looked down at her, noticing that she wasn't acting strange anymore, his eyes changed.

Determined.

What the Emperor wanted ...

"Come," he said, gesturing to a table with a mirror, a bowl, a pitcher of water, and some soap. "Wash your face."

Wen gripped the table's edge, her eyes hopping from one thing to the next. "His Majesty ... wants a clean face?" She was under the impression that a high class wife or concubine often had a painted face when pleasing her husband. Men tended to think a white face was beautiful. Wen had even heard that some men preferred to have a woman partially dressed so they didn't see the difference between the painted and the bare.

But ... what the Emperor wanted ...

"Yes," the man said as his footsteps moved away, possibly towards the bed, "your neck too. Not a spot of paint." He sounded much as he normally did, completely aware of the fact that he wouldn't be disobeyed.

Wen's shoulders jerked as she nearly shrugged. Then she rolled up her sleeves and washed her makeup away.

With a clean and dry face, Wen rolled her sleeves back down and turned her body. The curtains over the alcove bed had been pulled and tied back. The Emperor was sitting on the edge of the mattress ... his eyes ... fixated right on her throat. Or that's what Wen assumed. He wouldn't have looked at her eyes. No, he had no reason to.

His eyelids narrowed.

Then closed.

He sighed and bent down, reaching for his shoes. Wen rushed over to him. "Please, Majesty." She knelt at his side and put her hands at his feet. There was a little rug there, but it was for the Emperor's feet. Her knees remained on the bare floor. "Don't assume your concubine doesn't care for you." She tugged at one of the knots in his laces. His fingers slid out of her view. She heard the mattress shift.

As she pulled one shoe off, Wen heard the Emperor say with a nearly defeated voice, "Etiquette shouldn't be your priority right now."

"That's an interesting thing for His Majesty to say." Wen carefully put the shoe aside, making sure it was straight and the laces weren't messy. "But not even the noble Empress Consort can neglect her husband. So how can this low ranked concubine dare?" She went to the other shoe and worked on its laces. "His Majesty has been very kind. I'd hate for you to lack anything I'm meant to offer." Her fingernails touched his warm sock's cuff as she tugged the shoe off. "Please be at ease."

As Wen was putting the second shoe away with just as much care as before, the Emperor reached down to let his fingertips touch her shoulder again. The warm points of smooth pressure had Wen thinking of old memories with her mother. Her mother had often been quite affectionate.

"Come here, Wen."

Still looking down, Wen rose. Then she planted herself beside the man, keeping a few inches between them. Her hands layered on her lap. She was looking at those hands when the Emperor told her, "I'm not going to hurt you. I have no reason to hurt you."

Of course. Wen knew he wasn't supposed to hurt her.

But her fingers sharply curled. Her now long nails pressed into her own skin.

"I swear. I won't hurt you." His warm arm went around her shoulders. His voice made her ear flinch and her spine tingle. "Don't be frightened."

Wen took a deep breath.

The Emperor's other arm moved to her, the fingers touching her cheek. Wen closed her eyes. She thought he smelled like silk, dewy garden soil, and leather. It wasn't bad.

He turned her face towards his, or that's what Wen assumed. His breath was on her cheek and lips. Wen thought he might've brushed his teeth with ground salt and cloves.

His lips touched hers.

She clawed at her skirts. Her brain screamed at herself. But she kept still. He said he wasn't going to hurt her. She believed him.

He hummed ... he hummed into her mouth. Wen could taste his breath.

A soft little smack.

What in the world was he doing?!

He drew back, and his voice rumbled a bit as he said, "Let me taste you."

Wen didn't have time to react. She was pushed down, her wrists pinned to the bed by a pair of insistent hands. Her breath stilled and she kicked the air, but she didn't make a sound. Her eyes opened and she saw the Emperor looming over her. His eyes were suddenly ... sleepy? Relaxed?

He closed in.

Put his mouth on hers again.

So sensitive! It made her nipples tense under her clothing. It made her thighs press together. Nerve ending after nerve ending was singing. She gasped.

The Emperor did something so amazing. Perhaps he'd thought about it beforehand. Perhaps it was an impulse. Either way, it happened. His tongue sunk into Wen's mouth, right past her black teeth. Her legs jerked. Her eyes closed again.

More rolling and almost purring noises came from the man's chest. His heat seeped into her as his grip on her wrists tightened. His lips and tongue explored her. Wen didn't know if it was clumsy or precise. She hadn't even known this was something one could do. What was it?!

Could she do it too?

As her breath rushed in and out of her nose, as heat gathered between her thighs, Wen slid her tongue across his, curling it, testing it.

The Emperor released her wrists, pressed into her, and wrapped his arms around her body. Thrilling! It was so thrilling! Wen's arms moved in kind long before her brain understood that it should be done. Was this normal? Was this something the Emperor had always done?! It was so exotic to her. Would he want to keep doing it later?

Please ... please don't stop!

But he did. Wen whimpered at the loss.

His face hovered above hers. His tongue flicked at a corner of his lips. Then one of his arms moved up to almost hatefully tear the ornaments from her hair, sending each one to the floor. At first, Wen mistook this for violence, but she quickly reminded herself that she was fine. She was further lulled by the man's mouth again, even as he put similar rough treatment to her clothing. Sometimes, there was a feeling like rope burn on her skin, but Wen was well distracted with their wrestling, wet mouths.

Her nipples were hard against his clothing. Her thighs, and even her swollen labia drooping from her pubic hair, they also pressed into the clothing. Wen dared to wonder what the Emperor's body was like. It had to be lithe but rough. She squirmed under him and mewled like a tiny, snuggly creature as those thoughts burned in her mind.

Murmuring something about how she smelled like flowers and ink, which was apparently quite lovely to him, the Emperor reared back into a kneeling position on the bed and yanked his clothing up around his waist.

Wen only saw a flash of his skin before he was on her again, grinding his lips on her throat, rubbing his fingers and palm on her vulva. This part, the part with him touching her genitals, this was something Wen had expected. She didn't like it any less than the odd mouth play, though. The heat stimulated her labia into opening, and his middle finger stroked between them.

And again, as if he couldn't wait to do it once more, the Emperor put his lips on hers.

"Hgn!!" The noise that shot from her throat into the Emperor's was muffled, but she knew he recognized it. He responded with a tumbling little purr. That purr went so deep in Wen's body that she felt it in her lower belly. Mucus swelled out from between her thighs, gathering and dripping on the man's fingers.

It happened quickly.

Still licking into her mouth, sucking up her breath, the Emperor took her hips, lightly scratching her skin with his fingernails. Then, he swallowed down her alarmed gasp.

Her toes fanned out, then clenched together. Her calves and thighs ached.

Fireworks seemed to dance in her vision.

She was so full. And it kind of hurt.

But ...

Wen clawed at the man's clothing, particularly at his shoulders. This fate, she accepted it because there was no other option, but it was still intense.

She was sure he was licking her teeth.

The rocking began. The bed creaked. Wen's thoughts turned fuzzier and weaker. After a while, she was unable to understand much of anything. Sensation was her only companion. Her body was limp. She just ... received ... took every movement inside her. The pain faded, then dulled, and then Wen was drooling, giving the Emperor even more saliva for him to taste. Her eyes rolled backwards. Her voice hid from her. She couldn't even moan.

Yet ... there was another change. A sharp turn in a path. Her insides seemed to loosen, yet also tighten. Her body was finally responding kindly to the shaft inside, and Wen was too drugged by the sensation to wonder if she could even survive this level of excitement. She made tight, keening noises, and she felt him make approving, growling hums.

He moved faster. His fingernails really dug in. Wen didn't care. She even laughed on his tongue. The giddiness seemed to have transferred to him, because he laughed too.

The movements went on. Their saliva oozed out and spread around each other's faces. Wen thought her body was approaching something, but she didn't know what it was. All she could understand was that there was some kind of metaphorical destination.

But she didn't get to see it.

The Emperor made a bubbling grunt, and he pounded himself into her, disrupting Wen's journey and making her lurch under him. She felt extra fluid in her, something gooey and warm. As the man pulled away, separating their bodies, rolling away on the bed, Wen figured out what the extra fluid was.