01-23-2024, 10:28 AM
Cheyenne's life was marked by a few certainties that she had come to accept: firstly, she was a Princess, which meant that one day she would be married off to the most suitable suitor and become a Queen. Secondly, she knew that true love was something she would never experience in her life. And lastly, she was expected to use her "birthing hips" to bring happiness to her husband and pride to her people.
Ever since she could remember, King Richard III of Wybury -her father- had been working tirelessly to ensure that she was raised to be accomplished in every art, especially the ones useful in entertaining noblemen. If she wanted to be married to a good man, she needed to be a lot more than just pretty because even peasants can look pretty, he always said. She was supposed to be elegant, interesting, smart (but not that much), to talk only when necessary (which was rarely, leaving her wondering how she was supposed to show how quick her brain and her tongue truly were) and most importantly, to make a lot of heirs.
All of that seemed to be extremely silly now that she was sitting next to her heavily pregnant husband. Yes, husband. And yes, heavily pregnant.
A little bit more than a year prior, Cheyenne married the King of a neighbouring country: he was older than her but not extremely so and presented himself as a gentleman, which was always pleasing. The forced proximity between the newly wedded couple and their duty to the crown pushed them very soon forward trying for an heir. On that occasion, the Queen found out that what she thought to be a dreadful activity, as often described, was indeed quite fun thanks to the right partner!
Anyway, even if the tentatives were many, she seemed to be unable to conceive and she soon required the assistance of a royal physician, who promptly provided her with a fertility potion. It was hard to know what went wrong, probably she had to use it with her husband and not on her husband, but the damage was done and the King was now pregnant with twins and almost overdue.
If Cheyenne had a saying on that, the King never looked better and the pregnancy suited him perfectly, way more than it would have ever suited her. On the other hand, matter of fact, his body was not made to be put under that type of strain and it was taking a great toll on him. This was particularly true today, as the Queen could tell something was bothering him more. In the time they spent together, she learned to read his body language perfectly and to respond to that accordingly, just as it was expected from her. It was the way he was playing with the breakfast on his plate instead of eating it that told her something was wrong.
"Your Highness" she started with a soft murmur to get his attention. "Something is troubling you. The food doesn't sit well with your stomach?"
Ever since she could remember, King Richard III of Wybury -her father- had been working tirelessly to ensure that she was raised to be accomplished in every art, especially the ones useful in entertaining noblemen. If she wanted to be married to a good man, she needed to be a lot more than just pretty because even peasants can look pretty, he always said. She was supposed to be elegant, interesting, smart (but not that much), to talk only when necessary (which was rarely, leaving her wondering how she was supposed to show how quick her brain and her tongue truly were) and most importantly, to make a lot of heirs.
All of that seemed to be extremely silly now that she was sitting next to her heavily pregnant husband. Yes, husband. And yes, heavily pregnant.
A little bit more than a year prior, Cheyenne married the King of a neighbouring country: he was older than her but not extremely so and presented himself as a gentleman, which was always pleasing. The forced proximity between the newly wedded couple and their duty to the crown pushed them very soon forward trying for an heir. On that occasion, the Queen found out that what she thought to be a dreadful activity, as often described, was indeed quite fun thanks to the right partner!
Anyway, even if the tentatives were many, she seemed to be unable to conceive and she soon required the assistance of a royal physician, who promptly provided her with a fertility potion. It was hard to know what went wrong, probably she had to use it with her husband and not on her husband, but the damage was done and the King was now pregnant with twins and almost overdue.
If Cheyenne had a saying on that, the King never looked better and the pregnancy suited him perfectly, way more than it would have ever suited her. On the other hand, matter of fact, his body was not made to be put under that type of strain and it was taking a great toll on him. This was particularly true today, as the Queen could tell something was bothering him more. In the time they spent together, she learned to read his body language perfectly and to respond to that accordingly, just as it was expected from her. It was the way he was playing with the breakfast on his plate instead of eating it that told her something was wrong.
"Your Highness" she started with a soft murmur to get his attention. "Something is troubling you. The food doesn't sit well with your stomach?"