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The Empress Adelais has had many lovers ever since she ascended the throne. Her reign has seen an endless parade of lovely ladies and beautiful boys passing through her chambers, with some lingering long enough to share her bed with her favorite; no one could compare to Rosalind, the girl who’d been with her from the very beginning of her rule, but they could share her position if they were wise enough to chase her affection instead of her title. However, no one under the sun had yet to earn the most coveted title of all: fiancé. Despite her dalliances, the empress had done nearly everything expected of her position, everything save for walking down the aisle. You need a husband, her advisors insisted. You need heirs.
It is true that the law required an heir to the throne. However, nowhere in all those ancient tomes and statutes did it say that the heir must be borne from her own womb. In fact, if a wife cannot produce the next emperor or empress, a concubine’s child may take the throne.
Yes, she caused quite the scandal when she instructed her new darling Bruno to take Rosalind to bed. This mild debauchery was not what scandalized the court; after all, it was no surprise that she liked to watch her favorites pleasure one another when she was too tired to enjoy them herself, and they had been quite sweet on one another, lacking the jealousy concubines had on occasion; no, the shock was when she announced that Rosalind was with child, and declared them her new heir to the throne. It was impossible! Inconceivable! The child to be lacked royal blood! But the law said nothing of that, so as always, Adelais had gotten her way. Adelais, as always, had gotten everything she wanted.
Well, perhaps not everything she had wanted. She had hoped that this turn of events would see Rosalind in high spirits; after all, her new position would have her and her family set for life. Her child would have their every need and want tended to, as fit for a young prince or princess, while her parents and siblings would rise high through society like never before. And wasn’t that why their families had introduced them, back when she had first ascended to the throne? It had been her elder brother’s idea; she was fifth in line when she was born, and he fourth, both of them with no hopes of an inheritance beyond whatever allowance the future emperor deemed fit and whatever social currency they could earn through their name and connections. But then war took the first, disease the second, and when an arranged marriage threatened to send Adelais away to far-off lands, he found himself the victim of an unruly steed and a hunting trip gone horribly wrong. It was no surprise then that Inghram, his constitution weak as it was, chose abdication and the role of an advisor over that of a ruler. And if he could not convince his sweet sister, stubborn as she was, to wed, then he could at the very least convince her to forge bonds some other way. Enter Rosalind Corvus: a young woman from a family descended from great heroes and learned scholars, who had once helped see the empire rise above its rivals, but now found itself too impoverished to provide a dowry to any suitor worthy of their name. The imperial family would ask them of nothing, save for their legacy and Rosalind’s company. She may not have been the only young woman that Adelais had taken to bed during her reign, but she remained the sweetest, and ever her favorite of all her lovers and concubines. It was a shame, then to see her now so dour and withdrawn.
Rosalind had chambers of her own, rarely used save for when the empress was otherwise occupied. Rarely used until she was with child, and the midwife insisted upon her rest. But there is a difference between rest and rot, and Rosalind spent many of her days of late cloistered by her own free will, her melancholy turning her silk sheets and embroidered quilts into a most luxurious coffin. At first, Adelais thought it wise to give her space, before getting entrapped in meetings both public and private; with her advisors, her diplomats, her allies and her guards, all to ensure the well-being of her future heir and the mother-to-be. But then Bruno requested an audience of his own, and then she learned that even he had been turned away from Rosalind’s chambers. Guilt lay heavy in her stomach, weighing her down like an anchor, and it was then that she realized it was time to intervene. Hopefully Rosalind would forgive her presence.
A brief announcement was all it took for the guards to open the doors for her, bowing their heads graciously as she stepped inside. Rosalind’s chambers had everything she could ask for: finely woven rugs to protect her feet from the chill; a small table and set of chairs so she and any guests could dine in private, cluttered by a platter of half-finished fruit and honeyed bread that had barely been touched; a velvet chaise set by the windows and a modest bookshelf, so she could lounge and read in the warmth of the sun; a dark mahogany desk where she demonstrated her charm and wit via letters and little love notes; a matching wardrobe filled with gowns and skirts of all the colors of the rainbow, a box of jewels gifted to her by Adelais herself, and her own personal vanity to primp and freshen up; and a generous canopy bed, draped in gauze, where Bruno claimed that she spent most of her days of late.
Fortunately Bruno was incorrect. Or if not incorrect, then Adelais was fortunate enough to find her in better spirits than she had been, for Rosalind had taken her rest upon the chaise. It was almost noon but her dark curls were still bound by the braid she had it set in every night, and she was still dressed in her night clothes, a gauzy white gown that was just thick enough to preserve some modesty while it draped over her curves. The seams had been let out as soon as the quickening began, to provide comfort for her growing belly and her breasts, already heavy with milk; an animal part of Adelais’ longed to touch her, but instead she clasped one hand over another as she looked down at the book set atop her lover’s soft thighs.
Rosalind also preferred to look at the book, and Adelais watched her long fingers as she turned a gilded page. While they had no need for formalities, Adelais had hoped for a bit of warmth, at the very least. The silence hung between them, thick like the air before a summer storm, and Adelais cleared her throat to get her lover’s attention.
“Bruno and I spoke,” she said, presenting the same soft smile to Rosalind that she presented to foreign dignitaries, the clergy, and anyone else who expected to be charmed. “He told me that you could use some company.”
There was another pause, another turn of the page.
“Did he now?”
“Quite. And while I am no midwife, I suspect that you could do for a bit of fresh air.”
“I thought the midwife said that I could do with some rest.”
“It’s nothing too strenuous,” Adelais said, still smiling as she took a step forward. “Just a short trip to the gardens, nothing more.”
Rosalind said nothing, her gaze still fixed upon her book.
“…I could do with a short trip to the gardens. If you would indulge me.”
Rosalind closed her eyes for a moment, and then her book.
“If you insist, your Majesty.”
Adelais’ smile did not falter, but something in her heart almost broke; of course Rosalind still called her that when present at the court and anywhere else where propriety was expected. But she had not called her that in private for nearly ten years, not since she was first brought before her, a skittish youth who had yet to learn how precious she would become. Oh, how she longed to touch her, to bring her close yet again, but she did not dare.
Or at least, she did not dare until Rosalind began to force herself upright, only for her knees to buckle beneath her. Whether it was nausea or some other malady, Adelais did not know; she did not think of it and merely rushed by her side. She offered her hand, but Rosalind kept hers upon her belly, acting as if on instinct. The quickening had only come a month ago, but already she was beginning to show, her round stomach promising a healthy, vigorous child – if only this good fortune did not come at the mother’s expense.
“Please,” Adelais said, her smile now gone and her voice pleading, “Let me help.”
Rosalind glared at her from the couch, the first time during this visit that she dared to look upon her lover, and snapped, “Don’t you have servants for that?”
“I have servants for a great many things,” she said calmly, forcing a smile once again. “I can have them draw you a bath, if you’d like, or have them fetch you some tea from the kitchens if you’re feeling ill. But if you simply wish to return to your bed, then I think I can manage that myself.”
Rosalind was silent for a moment, before she sighed, and took Adelais’ hand. Her heart swelled at the warmth, and it took all her willpower not to cheer at Rosalind’s next words.
“I wish… I wish to see the gardens.”
~~~
“I’ve neglected you, haven’t I?”
Rosalind sighed and clung tighter to Adelais, the sleeve of her brocade robe rustling as both of them walked arm in arm through ancient marble halls. Adelais had helped her into it, assuming it would be a more welcome way to preserve her dignity than calling a maid to get her dressed fully. However, it had hardly been necessary; they were practically alone, save for the occasional passing servant. The staff kept their heads low as they scurried past to attend their tasks, and no one would dare to bother Adelais for an audience, not when the mother to her heir needed her attention.
Rosalind turned her head away, but didn't let go.
"It's not that. I haven't wanted for company, if that's your concern - there's worse things than solitude, after all."
"And much better things, as well." Adelais knew that Rosalind was not one to complain; often she had to coax her true desires out of her, unless it was truly dire. She pat her hand, and asked, "What is the matter, my pet?"
Rosalind laughed, her voice breathless and hollow, and she gestured down to her belly and the child within. It was not yet big enough that it should be a hindrance, but big enough to be visible to one and all, even underneath her skirts and heavy robes.
"This is the matter! You've no idea the target you've painted on my back, have you?"
Adelais stiffened, eyes wide, shocked silent by the outburst. Meanwhile Rosalind, too impatient for an explanation, simply sighed and untangled herself from her empress' grasp. She quickened her pace, moving so swiftly that one could scarce imagine that this was the same woman who stumbled back into her seat mere moments ago; Adelais lifted her own skirts and rushed after her, offering her arm as she walked with her side by side.
Rosalind ignored it, forcing Adelais to wait in silence as the guards opened the gates. The strain of creaking metal was nigh unbearable, but it was a worthy price to pay for paradise. The Imperial Gardens was a world unto its own. The hyacinths and rainbow bells native to their realm marked their path, greeting the two women with their heady scent as they led them to sights both familiar and exotic: sweetgrass meadows full of wildflowers and gem blossoms, tempting a kaleidoscope of butterflies to drop down for a visit; a maze made of hedges trimmed from fragrant rosebushes, where lovers would get themselves lost just to linger in one anothers' company; a forest of mushrooms tall as any tree that glowed softly in the dark, allowing the palace alchemists to collect their due at all hours of the night; and, of course, the fountain. It was elegant in their simplicity, with a blank faced angel standing guard over the iridescent lilies that floated in its granite pool. Towering oaks perfumed by blossoming vines, ancient things from before the palace was built, provided solitude for anyone visiting this sacred place. While Rosalind may have refused Adelais' arm, she could not refuse this delight, and allowed her presence as they walked side by side to their old meeting place. It was only when they stopped that she accepted her empress' aid, taking her arm as they both sat upon the fountain's edge.
"It was meant for your benefit," Adelais said, her hands placed upon her lap. "If you can believe it. You'll receive praise, honor, accolades..."
"It's enough to make anyone jealous," Rosalind murmured. "And with that jealousy will come scorn and judgment from across the realm. And that.."
She looked upon Adelais, her eyes damp with half-formed tears, and said, "I can't face them, Adelais. Their stares, their whispers - whatever you think of my solitude, it's worse than whatever the other clans have in store for us."
"But nothing worse than anything else we've faced over the years," Adelais said, offering her a weak smile as she placed her hand on hers. For a moment she feared Rosalind would pull it away, but she suffered her touch, allowing her hand to linger.
"Nothing that we've faced," Rosalind admitted, "but what of the child? It was just different, when it was just us, but this will change everything."
Adelais sighed, and asked, "Do you trust me?"
"Of course I do. But the court? The church? What of them?"
"I'll handle them."
"But-"
Adelais pulled her hand to her lips, quieting Rosalind with a soft kiss against her golden ring; it was not a true marriage band, but it was a token of her affection nonetheless.
"I'll handle everything that comes our way, I swear it. No harm shall come to you, or the child. After all, Bruno would be devastated - you know how he gets when he cries."
Rosalind laughed a little, but said nothing as she laid her weight against her lover's shoulder. Adelais wrapped her arm around her, pulling her into her embrace; so long as she kept her word, so long as resolve did not waver, then perhaps she could get everything she wanted after all.