That strange white bird appeared so often that it was given a name. Roshan. Technically, nobody knew what the bird's sex was, or even if it was always the same bird on each sighting. But since it always looked the same it was assumed to be the same. Little Roshan was the bird that lightly rapped Crown Princess Consort Inka's window and simply stayed on the windowsill as if it wanted something, but it was never given anything. Once, a guard tried to catch the bird, but it was too quick.
Indu was quite big, still a small dog, but bigger than when Inka had first been introduced to her. Her stubborn nature had been eroded and she was overall much calmer. During a particular visit from the Empress Consort, Inka had the dog in her lap, stroking the length of her back. Some moments before, the Empress had given Inka another dancing lesson, and now they were both a little tired.
"My heart's quite jubilant to know you've grown such affection for that little dog," the Empress said as she took up a small, circular frame for embroidery. She'd been working on a small, portable project for her own amusement lately. She was putting a threaded needle through the taut fabric when she added, "I believe the desire to protect and nurture is amazingly strong in humans." She starting pulling and knotting her thread, making tiny circles to form a flower's discoide stigma. "Most people don't fare well without someone or something to care for. Their hearts weaken from boredom and loneliness."
Indu's cool nose touched one of Inka's hands, and she gave a few licks. Inka sighed and held her hand out so Jorun could wipe the saliva away with a damp rag. "I didn't seek this dog out," the princess said, "she was given to me."
Working on the flower's petals now, the Empress said, "Yet she's in your lap, and she's quite happy."
"Indu will sit in anyone's lap," Inka said, "or the lap of anyone who treats her well."
Then, without any warning, there was a tapping. Everyone, even Indu, turned their heads towards the noise. At the nearest window, a maid opened some shutters, and there Roshan was. He, or she, quietly stood on the windowsill. The maid said, "The bird's chosen a new window? And a new time of day?"
An eyebrow rising, the Empress said, "I've heard of this bird. Roshan, is it?"
"That's what we've been calling it, Your Majesty." Inka had to hand Indu off to a maid because she was growling at the bird. "We're not certain as to why it appears. Some of the maids have suggested it might be a sign of a god's blessing."
"There are multiple possibilities, honestly," said the Empress as she eyed the calm, nearly still bird. "Are you interested in keeping it as a pet?"
Inka shook her head. "I know nothing of that bird. Interference could be dangerous."
"Ah." The Empress looked back down, returning to her embroidery. "You're treading the safest route."
Five minutes or so later, Roshan flew away.
"That problem, it if could be called such, solved itself," the Empress said.
Inka shrugged and told Jorun she was craving poultry for dinner.
***
Sweat and light incense.
Silk sheets and a creaking mattress.
In the beginning, Nitishila's beard had painted its warm scents all over Inka, its coarse texture stimulating so many nerves. Her nipples had pointed to the ceiling. Her nails had made lines in his scalp. Their tongues had even caressed each other on occasion.
It was a bit different now.
Inka was on her hands and knees. Her breasts almost hurt as they were forced to rock with the movements. She didn't care.
Her round backside was held, the buttocks spread. Nitishila's pubic hair was ground against her spread cunt, and his great stalk filled her up over and over.
"Ni ... Niti!! Oh!! Please!!" Her voice was urgent and strained. "It's so much!!"
He was standing close to the bed, keeping her to him. "Hm? Don't tell me you're having difficulties." He put a little more pressure in his fingers on her buttocks. "You're quite strong. Don't faint. I'm not finished with you."
Inka's throat was drying out as she panted. "Hah ... hah ... I ... it's been so long. Please ... hurry." Her poor voice was dwindling. "I ... I can't."
He let his thumb graze her anus as he barked out, "You've endured before and you'll do it again! Now take it!"
Harder, seeming to pierce everything, and so much faster! Inka coughed and gasped. Her arms collapsed. Her nipples were forced to rub against the silk sheets. Her cheek soon followed suit. Her throbbing, oozing little cunt shot so many signals to her brain that most of her thoughts were blocked. It was like having too many people trying to use a hallway, but her body felt different. Like falling or even dancing, but so fast and so intense that Inka couldn't make any sound except for tiny chirps.
"There's my little fairy." Nitishila's voice softened, but then he choked on his own words as he seized up and almost dig his nails in Inka's soft globes. He made a rolling, wordless noise, and then he made the most irregular thrusts.
The traffic in the hallway started moving again. Inka was able to think of something, a desperate little plea to whatever gods there might be.
Please. Please give us a child.
Some days later, on a cloudy morning, Inka found her menstruation cycle's vulgar greeting.
And her calm mask was thrown across the room.
Not even getting up to find some linen to soak up the blood, Inka just laid on her side and wept.
Nitishila had spent the night, and he was there to surprise her with a hug from behind. His words were so gentle. "What's dared to bother my wife?" He kissed her hairline and neck.
"It ... I ... I'm not ..." Inka didn't want to lose any composure, but this was a grave issue for her. For most people, children were of great importance. For a royal family, children were typically vital. Continuing the line and all that. From a political standpoint, a lack of children would often be an exploitable weakness.
"Patience, Darling. Patience." Nitishila put a palm on her belly. It was so warm on her skin. "Don't fret over this. It won't improve the situation."
"Don't patronize me!" Tears were running down, reaching her pillow.
