The Young King's Old Maid

21 - Daddy

Warning: Descriptive sexual scenes and strong language. Read at your own risk.⤵

•••••••••

Camilla •

Good things come to those who wait, they say. I think I have waited long  enough. Thirty and five years of being alone. High time I acquire what I desired for all those years of solitude.

My own little family. Baby girls and boys. They can be brunettes or blondes or redheads. Azure, grassy or aqua eyes. Skin's snowy, creamy or chocolate goodness.

I want them all. With or without a husband.

I also know full well that the king can meet my biological desires. He's a hot-blooded male, with healthy sperm and beautiful genes. But it's not that simple. Obviously.

Well, I have already decided. I will bear his children, whatever the consequence. A leap of fate, huge as it is, but I made up my mind.

It's final. I will accept the king of Romanovia to father my children. Terrifying but oh so liberating.

•••

I found two tall figures in the main exit talking with all seriousness, so unlike their playful banter whenever I'm in sight. Their heads bowed, almost touching, their arms folded across their chests.

King Nikolov and Prince Izaak. Two royals in one area. How I came up in the picture...I have no idea.

They seemed so engrossed in their conversation that they still have not known my presence. I wondered what they're speaking of. When Prince Izaak turned his head sideways, he saw me, and nudged the king with his shoulder. Nikolov focused his eyes to me with a glare. He must have been in a foul mood.

"My lady baby, it's always a pleasure to see you. Why am I not seeing you more often? Must have been this tyrant's doing, aye?" Prince Izaak spoke first, dragging me to where the king stood moodily.

I blushed, my ever present reaction always noticeable. Curtseying to the two royals, I told them my reason of being there.

"Your Highnesses, King Nikolov and Prince Izaak, it is time for dinner. The table is set and ready." I said, not meeting the burning eyes of the king nor the teasing ones of the prince.

Dinner was uneventful, yet there was an unmistakable trace of tension in the atmosphere, mostly between Nikolov and I. Even the jokes of Prince Izaak did not appease us, it only added fuel to the awkwardness we're feeling. Or is it just me?

As I loaded the dirty plates in the dishwasher and handwashed some pans and pots, the king cleared his throat behind me. He decided to stay while Prince Izaak left with a teasing smirk in his face.

"Do you want me to help you with that? You're taking so long." What? Why?

"No, my king. I'll be done in a few minutes or so." In reality I don't want to face him. If I could just wash dishes forever.

He grunted a "It's Nikolov" but remained quiet for the rest of my task.

The dreaded moment came upon me as the door to the bedroom closed, giving us the needed privacy. It was suffocating. But I need to face my demons head-on or I'd just be the lonely fat spinster who had nothing, and I don't want it that way any longer.

I am to become a mother. Damn the consequences.

"Yes, Nikolov." I spoke abruptly, afraid I might change my mind and turned my sight to the man standing just beside the door.