In the stifling heat, tension coiled like a serpent around the city, its atmosphere laden with the scents of stale air and settling dust. An Imperial Decree had ripped through the once sacrosanct walls of secrecy surrounding the empire. The emperor's right hand declared that Argider had been brutally slain, only to be reborn as a woman via a divine miracle bestowed by the gods.
To think that destiny had handpicked a scoundrel such as Argider to be resurrected—it could only be interpreted that she was probably the vessel of divine's will. The chosen emperor and rightful ruler that mustn't be trifled with. But people alike were skeptical.
Afterall, there were stories that had spread far and wide like whispers in the night—it was common knowledge that she had once fled from the marriage consummation with her wives, only to be found indulging in the embrace of a prostitute.
It was entirely true, of course.
"Perhaps the gods are not always right..." a member of the noble class muttered in disbelief, his voice carried by the throngs of murmuring around him. The masses exchanged hushed whispers, their shocked utterances spreading like wildfire.
"Argider could never..."
"Why him?"
"I disagree. It's as if he was mocked and blessed at the same time after producing so much children outside his duties..."
"Right!"
This grand pronouncement had a strategic undercurrent. It was a purposeful move, designed to quell doubts surrounding Argider's claim to the throne and simultaneously serve as a declaration of war against secretive adversaries.
Fools were unaware, while the cunning could see a pattern.
Bang! A meeting held in the Sceptre Council chamber was abruptly interrupted as an irate member slammed his fist onto the tabletop, his aged features etched with a permanent scowl and strands of silvery hair testament to his advancing years. His anger was palpable, surprising through the assembled dignitaries, who exchanged astonished glances.
"Argider, a woman?! Preposterous!" Gander Morrigan thundered, Duke of House Morrigan and the Emerald Liege, his fist clenching with barely contained fury as his pale green eyes blazed with wrath. As the second most influential figure in the empire, Morrigan's wrath commanded respect, for no one could rival his cunning and intellect. "He couldn't even give my daughter a child! His first and foremost wife, the empress. And now you are saying he is a woman?!"
Count Laristor Erisius, the erudite head of House Erisius, a powerful family known for their mastery of the mysterious arts, broke in, adjusting his spectacles as he spoke with a tranquil demeanor. "Your Grace," he implored, his voice measured. "Our focus should remain on the matter at hand rather than allowing ourselves to be consumed by fleeting emotions."
The council was comprised of the most illustrious figures from the noble Eminent Households, distinguished by their titles based on jewels from the First Emperor's Sceptre. Each held a pivotal position within the imperial hierarchy.
Gander Morrigan, the Emerald Liege, whose dominion extended over the vast economic landscapes of the empire;
Malister Merovia, the Golden Liege, the treasurer secretary and financial advisor;
Laristor Erisius, the Alexandrite Liege, the enigmatic master of covert operations;
Saktor Tarkresh, the Amber Liege, the fearless military commander of the Imperial Family;
Telys Donotia, the Lady Azurite Liege, the eloquent speaker of the Imperial Parliament and the lone woman within the council;
Brovian Cryptoron, the Sapphire Liege, chief Justice and guardian of the empire's laws;
And finally, Osmo Arctera, the Pearl Liege, the esteemed scholar and foremost advisor to the throne.
Each jewel liege represents a distinct domain of power and influence, and the individuals who held those titles were the wielders of immense authority within the empire.
"Does this transformation signify a need to reorient Argider's spouses? Instead of wives... there should be husbands?" Marquess Saktor posed a challenging question.
Duke Malister responded with a measured tone, the weight of his words heavy. "It would be quite an extensive process..." he mused. "Everything has already been arranged—the marriage, the alliances, the agreements. Reversal of such arrangements would be a laborious endeavor."
"And a contract must never be broken," added Brovian.
Advisor Osmo interjected, his words cutting through the tension, "No, there is no need to initiate such changes. Argider would never engage in intimate relations with a man, and even if that were to occur, it would not be with her husbands. The damage to our reputation would be unprecedented if our ruler was a whore woman whose child is from a man outside her marriage. We are aware of this fact."
"And... perhaps this transformation may provide an opportunity to exert greater control over Argider. There will be no more illegitimate offspring, and her wives might no longer suffer neglect," Telys supported. "Until then, we will find a way and be patient that she might revert back into a man."
Duke Gander, his fury somewhat tempered, resigned to the reality that now was not the time for an outburst. The others recognized the look in his eyes, the weight of a thousand words concealed within his silence. He truly loved Esmeralda in his own way, a bittersweet memory of her smile in her younger years, now replaced by the bitter loss that haunted him as a father.
In the end, he departed from the Sceptre Council chamber, the others acknowledging the deafening silence that followed.
...
Meanwhile, Argider found herself returned to the palace, only to be sequestered within a concealed bedroom during the events. Knight guards stood vigilant outside, yet trust was difficult to come by.
Every whisper of wind, the unknown corners of the room – all conspired to create an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. It was as if the shadows themselves were plotting against her, whispering dark secrets behind her back. Every fiber of her being trembled, her mind consumed by the dread that betrayal and harm were lurking just beyond her line of sight.
"Darling!" Shouted a woman.
'Huh?' Her heart skipped a beat. She instantly paled.
Before she could even blink, the door creaked open. Argider did not need to look in order to know who it was.
The woman who's currently here in the same room as her, and perhaps the only woman who'd ever call her darling affectionately.
Callista.
Argider's fourth, yet most favored wife.
The courtesan she fell hopelessly inlove with.
"Please, Callista, I...I'm ill," Argider huddled beneath the blanket, her voice trembling slightly.
Undeterred by her protests, Callista pressed on, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Don't worry, my love. I've come here to take care of you, just like I always have whenever you're down or unwell," With a disconcerting grace, she drew closer, her approach relentless.
Unexpectedly, she felt someone infiltrate the covers, causing her to widen her eyes in surprise.
"No, wait!" she cried out, her voice quaking with alarm.
"Why, my dear, you really are unwell. Your voice...it's changed quite a bit."
"I'm serious, Callista!" Frantic, she clawed at the covers, attempting to tug them downward and simultaneously kick away the encroaching figure as desperation fueled her futile efforts.
Callista's fingers danced along Argider's inner thigh, tracing tantalizing patterns that sent shivers down her spine. She leaned in close, hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin as she murmured, "Don't worry, darling..."
Her hand slid higher, fingers brushing teasingly against the sweet spot that always made Argider tremble with need. But as she went to grasp it fully, her touch met only empty air. Argider's breath hitched, a pleasured gasp escaping her lips before she quickly covered her mouth, eyes wide with shock.
Callista's brow furrowed in confusion. She reached out once more, determined to find that special place, but her questing fingers encountered nothing but smooth, uninterrupted skin. No lump, no bump, no evidence of the "stick" that should have been there.
"Callista, I-... Please stop..." Argider begged.
She yanked the covers back in one swift motion, revealing the figure beneath. A cascade of familiar ivory locks spilled across the pillow, and those captivating diamond eyes blinked up at her, just as enchanting as she remembered. But as her gaze focused intently, her breath hitched.
Why is Argider... a woman?! No. Who was this woman?!
"W-Who are you?... And what are you doing on his bed?"