The Exchange Ch. 07

As the days floated away, as Nitishila enjoyed his wife's company, he recognized something. As indifferent as Inka was during a normal moment, and as unhinged and deliciously fervid as she was during copulation, something changed.

First, Inka seemed less willing to play board or card games. Second, some days later, she would often be found staring at what was obviously nothing. Only Nitishila or Jorun could lure her out of quiet gloom, and usually after shaking her shoulder or clapping their hands before her face.

Third, some more days later, Nitishila learned from a concerned maid that Inka hadn't been eating as much food as normal, especially not any desserts. Nitishila tried to hand feed her sugary leaf rolls and puffed rice cakes. She bit and chewed but very unenthusiastically. The only reason he knew she was unenthusiastic was because her jaw was so maddeningly slow. Otherwise, Inka's face and body language was overall emotionless.

Fourth, on a gentle and cool afternoon, Nitishila visited Inka's apartment, and her feet were slow as she met him in her reception room. She looked paler than normal, and that was a frightening statement, considering she was already so naturally white. Nitishila rushed to his feet and took her hands. His worried eyes looked down at hers. Those pretty teal irises weren't focused.

"Darling, are you depressed?"

Inka put one of her smooth hands on his chest, right on his shirt and below a necklace. "How can I be depressed in such a luxurious home, and with such an attentive husband?"

Unwilling to accept her polite and mollifying words, Nitishila leaned in and whispered, "I should've realized it from the beginning. Your resolve is waning."

Inka shook her head. "No, please don't concern yourself."

Nitishila held her regardless, right in front of the maids, Mamun, and Jorun. Then he led his wife in her own apartment, right to a dining room, and he asked for a cup of hot tea to hopefully soothe his pitiable wife. As they sat down, he held one of her hands, weaving the fingers, and he whispered in her ear, "Is it because we have no children yet?"

Inka's eyes closed, and her breath stilled.

"It is," he murmured. He nuzzled her cheek. "Fret not. We'll have a child soon. It's our destiny."

A tray with a ready tea set was soon placed on the table before them. A cup was set for the prince too, even though he hadn't asked for one. Using a small cloth for protection, he took the teapot's handle and base and carefully poured the steaming liquid into one of the cups. Then he put the cup just at Inka's pretty mouth and said, "Go on."

Inka took the cup's handle and made the most mechanical looking sip. There was no joy in her eyes, not that she showed much joy on a regular basis. He had her drink three cups in total. Then he asked her to come with him.

It didn't matter how early in the day it was. His wife needed comfort.

In the large bedchamber, where the round canopy bed patiently awaited its mistress, Nitishila pinned a section of the sheer curtain away and sat Inka down on the mattress.

At her side, he told her sweet things with a low voice.

"You're so healthy and bright, and I'll dare to say I'm the same. We'll have children, fat little babies, the fattest babies with pink cheeks." Nitishila put her cheek on his bosom and slid his hand down and up her arm. "There are so many appearances our children could have. Dark, pale, or medium. Blonde, black, or brown hair, curly or straight. Dark or pretty blue green eyes." His fingers drummed on her skin for a quick moment. "They'll likely be beautiful, but if nature refuses to allow that, it would have little importance. They'd still be our little princes and princesses."

A reserved little comment floated up from Inka. "None of those fantasies hold weight. My womb is empty, while your honorable sister, Queen Jaya, has likely have given birth by now." Aside from the light volume, there wasn't anything sad in the tone. However, Nitishila knew she was sad. He wanted to tell her this wasn't a competition, but it almost was. At least, there was certainly great pressure put upon both of them.

"Dipping into despair won't solve the problem," he said before giving her a little kiss on her cheek. "If you do that, your health might fail, and that will ruin any pregnancy we gain." He gave another kiss, then another. That led to him pulling all their jewelry and clothes away, and more kisses, and huskier words, less courtly words.

"I'll do my best, Inka. I'll fuck you until I break."

Her pretty bosom jiggled as she turned her face away, her lips thinning out and her eyes wide.

Nitishila nudged her down, her back on the mattress, her clean fingernails impatiently scratching at the sheets. He leaned over her and gently held one nipple between his fingers. Then he spread his fingers out a few times over the aureole, petting the wrinkling little bit of skin. He loved how the daylight showed him the full effect. He could truly appreciate how flushed Inka was becoming, how pink and pretty she was.

"You want a baby, right?" He gripped her breast and put his free hand between her thighs, palming her warm mons.

Inka's eyelids fluttered and she brought the back of her hand to her lips.

Stroking her soft labia with his fingers, rubbing the hair with the heel of his hand, Nitishila leered down at the breast he kneaded and said, "I want it too. I want your belly full from my seed."

"Hnnnnnnnn!!" Inka shuddered. He didn't just see it; he felt it in his hands. His cock was already reacting. He loved it when she lost control of herself.

Allowing a single finger to reach inside her channel, pressing and swirling up, Nitishila watched her squirm. He left her breast alone and took a more comfortable kneeling position. He grabbed his erection, dryly stroking, as he touched a little ridge inside Inka's wet tunnel. She loved it; he knew she did. Her feet kicked and her eyes closed. She also moaned against her hand.

"You're already soaking my finger, Inka. Do you want it now? You want me to fuck you now?"

Inka didn't answer, not verbally. She only whined.

"Did you say something? I couldn't hear you." Nitishila put his thumb on her clitoris. His testicles felt so much tighter yet heavier as he watched it twitch under his little caress. "Don't you want me to cum in you?"

He didn't sound like a prince at all.

Finally, Inka used words. "Yes! Please! Give me your seed!"

Nitishila didn't think he had the right to disobey.

He wrapped her legs around his body the best he could. Then one hand went to her backside, the other went to her shoulder, the arm bending around her.

The head pierced through first, spreading her opening apart. She mumbled something foreign and scratched his back. Nitishila was too concerned with how deliciously her cunt tried to gobble him up to think of the light pain from her nails. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he quietly reveled in the pleasure. Then, once Inka had starting grousing about how badly she wanted more of him, Nitishila gave in and sunk all of himself into her.

His knees almost went numb, which might not have been good since they were digging in the bed, but he didn't care. He had a pretty little wife to impregnate. His toes and the arches of his feet felt electric. The space between his testicles and penis felt like it was vibrating in the most satisfying way.

Inka's breath was sweet in his mouth as they kissed again, sloppy this time. He rocked into her almost like he wanted to hurt her. Almost. He'd never hurt her, not purposely. She was a white rose with pink dusted on the petal's edges, a little fairy that might have come from a river, a milky goddess with a perfect face. She was several things, at least metaphorically.

He loved fucking her. Damn.

He loved feeling her huge breasts against his chest, enjoying her soft limbs around him, hearing the different tones in her moans. He even loved how sticky and messy she made his cock.

More ...

Deeper. Deeper! He needed to go deeper!

Nitishila pulled his mouth off of Inka's and locked his teeth together as more urgency overtook his brain.

More of this wet cunt needed to be covering his erection. Absolutely.

"Niti!! Oh Niti!!" Inka's weak voice was like a pinch of sugar. "Yes!! Give it to me! Give your seed to me!"

But he didn't want to just spit it out without thinking of her needs. She was too good a wife. In his mind, he recited the Gehnan alphabet to draw a shaving of his arousal back, all so he could keep stable and constant enough to give Inka her pleasure.

When Inka's cunt was flexing around him, squirting a little around his erection, when she was sighing and even crying a bit, that was when Nitishila knew he could stop the alphabet review.

And he let his mind fog over with delight, ramming hard.

"Fuck!! Oh fuck, Inka!!"

The veins in his throat, arms, and legs all bulged. His balls emptied out.

As he rolled over some moments later, panting, he vaguely wondered if he was starting to fall in love, as silly as the idea was.

***

"It's so heartbreaking." Lataa's quivering little voice fluttered down like leaves.

She was kneeling close to her grandmother, the Empress Dowager, on this cool morning. It was good to visit her grandmother's apartment every once in a while. It kept Lataa in her good graces.

Holding one of her hands close to her lips, her fingers straight, Lataa suddenly gasped and said, "Grandma, what if poor Inka's barren? Wouldn't that be a tragedy?" A long sigh, and Lataa shook her head. "She's such a gentle, obedient princess. Niti would be honored to sire her children."

The Empress Dowager was stiff, as she usually was, and holding a cup of hot tea. Winter was coming. Compared to Eiragla, the winters in Gehna were very mild. The air would turn chilly, and people would wear more clothing, but one might never see any snow. Like most elderly people, the grandmother hated how her bones would ache in the cold. So, she was in a crabbier mood than normal. "Nitishila visits her often, does he not?"

Nodding, Lataa said, "He hardly shares his time with the rest of the family."

"Whenever he visits me," the Empress Dowager said after a sip of her tea, "he speaks of his wife. He'd best not neglect his studies. He has too much potential."

With a grin, Lataa asked, "Hasn't Papa said he'll name Niti his successor?"

Her eyes lightly touching Lataa's face for only a few seconds, the Empress replied, "If he doesn't, he'll have more difficult options ahead of himself."

Lataa sighed again.

Later, she decided to give her foreign sister-in-law a visit. It made sense to her because ... well ...

In the palanquin, Lataa had a wide smile.

That Jorun girl always gave her the most blatantly interested looks.

At Princess Inka's apartment, Lataa learned that her mother, the Empress Consort, was giving Inka a dancing lesson. Lataa asked to join and give Inka her own advice. It was a time for laughter and suggestive movements. She would turn her eyes in a seemingly innocent, restrained way, and she'd see the redheaded attendant Jorun watching her dancing.

Did that Eiraglan girl actually poke a corner of her lips with her tongue?

This might end up being easier than she'd thought.

The royal women danced and danced. Then, when they were tired, they played a board game. During that game, Lataa made a point to say to her mother, "I need your insight. I don't know what to think."

Tapping Lataa's shoulder with her fingers, the Empress Consort asked, "What's troubling my youngest little flower?"

Her rings clanging on the table before her, Lataa let her lips stick out in a pout. "Papa's been thinking of marrying me off to Prince Mayur, but I honestly don't want to. He's not suited to me, and I know I'll miss my home so terribly."

Princess Inka's head smoothly turned towards Lataa. Her almost bleached looking face was glassy and dispassionate, but that was normal. "You have my empathy, young Lataa. I understand this problem frighteningly well. Unfortunately, I don't know if there is a solution."

Lataa slid a wooden game piece across the game's board, her fingernails moving it a smidge more as they rose again. "But your life turned out so well. You were married to my kind brother. I don't know if your advice would be helpful. What if my life becomes unbearable?"

Inka took her turn, moving a piece on a certain square on the board. It didn't move when her hand rose. "We were born with certain privileges, but that comes with responsibilities. One shouldn't try to bypass their responsibilities and still demand their privileges."

"This pale child has a fine mind," the Empress Consort said as she moved her piece. "You'd do well to learn from her."

Lataa folded her arms and turned her nose up as if the board had offended her. "I don't feel any better."

But inside, she was rather excited.

Long after the Empress left, even into the night, Lataa remained in Princess Inka's apartment, cheerful and giggling. When the hour was dangerously late, Lataa stretched her arms, yawned, and said, "Won't you let me stay the night? I swear I'll be a quiet guest."

Inka seemed to hesitate, or that's what Lataa assumed. The paler princess' face was unchanging as the moment of silence played out. Her fingers laced together, her blouse's long sleeves flapping. After that short time, Inka finally gave her consent. "I hope you rest well."

Lataa was settled in a cozy little room with a soft bed and fragrant plants. Rahki tucked her in and asked if there was anything else she could do for her. Her fingers lightly curling on a pillow, Lataa told the attendant, "Prowl outside this room for at least an hour. If the redheaded woman happens to lurk nearby, then approach and tell her your mistress wants to know why. Then bring her to me."

Funny as it was, It only took five minutes for Rahki to return with Jorun behind her, her red hair burning in the weak spots of firelight. "Leave us," Lataa said to Rahki as she sat up, ruining the comfortable arrangement of blankets that had been wrapped around her.

With a bow, Rahki silently left the room. She likely hung around outside the closed door.

Jorun's face was pointed down. Her fingers were closed, one hand layered over the other, and kept near her belly. Most people covered their bellies in this cool weather.

"Well," Lataa softly said with a straight back, "aren't you going to tell me why you snuck around the room I'm meant to sleep in?"

"I only wanted to ask Miss Rahki if my mistress' guest was comfortable."

Lataa flipped her long hair off her arm and sighed. "Is that so? Adorable." She reached over and took Jorun's sleeve in her fingernails, tugging her arm and making Jorun step closer to the bed. "You're a fine little attendant. You don't deserve the trouble that's soon to come."

Still looking down, Jorun said with a hazy voice, "My mistress isn't destined for any trouble."

"With her empty womb, it's inevitable." Lataa got to a kneeling position, and she actually touched a lock of Jorun's hair. "You'd best make allies here, otherwise you'll fall into oblivion with your princess."

Her lips trembling, her fingers bending, Jorun whispered to her, "My mistress will succeed. She'll deliver a child quickly."

"I'm not certain." Lataa made a low hum, and she spun some of that bright hair around her finger. "I might fall too, but I don't think I'll fall as painfully as your mistress."

"What could possibly happen to you, Your Highness?"

Lataa held the lock between her index and middle fingers, and she said, "Prince Mayur hasn't been very polite to me. He doesn't find me pretty at all. He even whines to the other aristocrats about how he wishes he could have a lover with pale skin." Wryly, Lataa made a little smirk. "Isn't that rather eccentric for a man of his position?"

"I ... I have no answer, Your Highness."

Lataa released the attendant's sleeve, and then she touched a spot under Jorun's chin, forcing her to lift her head and eyes. "If I can't please a husband all on my own, then I might have to ask for help. Wouldn't such a position be overflowing with opportunity for a foreigner?"

Jorun licked her lips in a flash of a movement. Then she said, "I won't need such a position. I'll be safe with my mistress. She'll protect me until I marry."

"Can you hold that confidence for long?"

Lataa didn't let her answer. She had Jorun on the bed, on her back, within two seconds. The lack of resistance only confirmed Lataa's suspicions. "Oh? Are you going to reconsider your options?" Lataa let her palm and fingers slide under Jorun's blouse, right over her belly button. "You should know by now that I'd be a much safer option. Everyone in my family is very fertile."

Her hand moved down, under the pants' waistband. Jorun's belly sunk in with her breath.

"Prince Mayur was delighted when I told him our new princess had an attendant with red hair." Lataa's voice crept over the attendant's body as her fingers curled over the excited little clitoris that was already peeking out. Jorun had certainly wanted this. Lataa had to remind herself not to laugh. "I wonder if the hair between your thighs shares the pretty color."

Her head turned away, her palms on her cheeks, Jorun gave feeble little moans. Despite the weather, she was hot and starting to sweat.

Who would have thought this would be so easy?!

***

"I refuse to touch it again."

Inka's blonde hair was wild and free, but she did have a headdress of silver metal and rows of carnelian stones. The dangling parts of said headdress chimed and tangled with her hair as she turned her head, and many of her curls revolved.

"But he's such a courteous little boy." Nitishila said as he lightly patted Dhaval's little head with his index finger. Dhaval's forked tongue poked out a few times as he moved around. His small head and part of his body moved up and over Nitishila's face as he was held up. He was even under the prince's eye at one point. Smiling, Nitishila said, "His mouth is shaped like a puppy's."

"I'm highly aware of that." Inka was handed a tray of pickled cucumbers that had a sour, acrid odor.

The couple was in Nitishila's apartment. The only personal servant Inka had was Jorun. Everyone else worked for Nitishila. "They're here, Niti. They look delicious."

Handing the snake off to Mamun, Nitishila nodded. "You must tell me if they don't live up to your expectations."

"I won't smell very pleasant after eating these," she warned as she pierced one of the small gourds with a fork.

Rolling his dark brown eyes and smiling, her husband said, "I'm familiar with vinegar."

With a handkerchief shielding her chin, Inka took a bite of one of the cucumbers. It was crunchy where it needed to be, and soft in the same way. She made a gentle, if puckered smile, and after she swallowed she told him, "It's perfect."

A servant bowed before the couple and said, "Her Highness, Princess Lataa has come demanding a visit."

Shrugging, Nitishila asked, "How were you able to keep her at bay?"

"We told her that Princess Inka is here."

Inka took another bite of her pickle and listened to her husband's voice. A swallow later, she said, "I ... I suppose that's fine? Let her in."

Lataa and her attendant entered the room, and of course she didn't kneel. "Hello Niti! Are you feeling well?" Quickly, her face transformed from cheerful to as briny as the air. Her fingers pinched her nose and her now nasal voice rang out. "What horrible stench is that?!"

"Pickles," Inka said after another swallow. "In this case, cucumbers that had been kept in vinegar. It's a fine preservation method."