The Exchange Ch. 04

The couple's lunch was finished on a positive note, and then they retreated back to the apartment. Inside, Inka entertained her new husband with her work at her loom.

Beforehand, he'd asked, "What have you been doing this past month?" So, she directed him towards the loom she'd purchased and showed him her progress. She pointed at the light cartoon under the warp threads. Then she gestured down to the weft threads that had been packed so far, and even farther to the dangling bobbins of differently colored threads.

Inka had been working on a small tapestry with a simple design, a rectangle of bright yellow with a two red gerbera daisies in the center. Inka believed that in Gehna, that flower was associated with innocence and playful attitudes.

"I imagine this process swallows a great deal of time," Prince Nitishila said as he watched Inka sit down on her stool. "Are you planning on hanging this tapestry in your apartment?"

"That's a fine idea, Your Highness." Inka used a threaded needle to guide some red threads through the warp threads. "However, I considered offering it to your sister."

His voice skipping a little, her husband said, "I don't know if she'd appreciate it. She's very critical."

Using the bars to pack the threads together, speaking over the noise, Inka said, "Your sister is an honorable member of the Imperial Royal Family. Whether she accepts the tapestry or not, I expect her to keep a gracious attitude."

"Hmmmmm ... that's fine, but if she complains then I suggest you walk away from her. You do have a higher rank than her, after all. You aren't required to withstand anything from her."

Inka was weaving in more colored threads. "I only have that rank because of you. I should try to earn my place."

"But you already have."

Footsteps, then a touch on her shoulder. Inka would've pricked herself if she wasn't such a careful person. She paused to gaze up at the oddly distressed, beautifully dark face of her husband. "Oh? May I be so bold and say you've already grown a pit of worry for me?" The corners of her lips only lightly, subtly, barely moved up.

Prince Nitishila's expression remained the same. "How can I not worry? You've left your home, the place where you were likely born, and now you're in a strange place with strange people, but to them you're the strange one." His words were unexpectedly rapid. His fingers tightened on Inka's shoulder, wrinkling her short sleeve.

Refusing to believe her husband could hold her, a person he hardly knew, in such a precious regard, Inka looked back at her work and sighed. "One might assume my siblings are concerned for me."

"I ... I mean, yes. They must speak as if ... as if they're in mourning." He sounded defensive.

Inka knotted the red threads and took up a yellow one. "Perhaps they think on all the positive times they've had with their little sister?"

"Certainly!" His breath seemed to sink into Inka's braid of hair and settle over her body. There wasn't anything unpleasant about it, but Inka noticed it regardless.

"Your Highness?" Again, Inka paused her work and looked up to her husband. "Is something wrong?"

The jewelry in Prince Nitishila's hair twinkled as his head slightly lowered. His eyes looked as if they were pointed at Inka's fingers over her loom, but Inka believed he was thinking of something else. "I suppose ... I suppose I have bittersweet nostalgia." Two of his fingers reached up to scratch at his beard. It was a nicely groomed beard. "Princess Jaya ... I ... I had my own fondness for her."

Inka chose that moment to put her palm on his lower arm, her fingers stretched upwards, and she said, "I'm unable to remove your heartache. All I can do is hope that you'll accept my attempts to comfort you."

He took her hand in his, and he used the other to place his fingertips on her palm, tracing some of the henna designs there. It nearly tickled her, but Inka gave no reaction. Still, Prince Nitishila carried her hand up to his lips, and he put a mild kiss on a drawn flower petal in the palm's center.

Inka hadn't expected that.

Her toes pressed together for a moment, but she soon put the toes back in their normal order.

As Inka's fingers curled over her husband's, he said in a lower and deeper tone, "Let's pretend I never mentioned her. Let's settle in each other's company instead."

"Then, concerning that matter, I shall bother you no more," Inka said as she pulled her hand away.

***

Dinner was served. A rice dish with almonds and minced meat. A small bowl of vegetable soup. And a plate of small dumplings filled with cheese. Silver cups held fruity green tea that had some peach juice mixed in. Some maids played music with a sitar and a flute.

Even with Inka's cold voice, she was able to make her husband laugh at some jokes. She even smiled, not broadly, but even she could show an emotion now and then.

After dinner, Prince Nitishila asked if there were any dancers available in the palace. His attendant said that he'd hurry to find out. Within an hour, during which Inka took advantage of her husband's quiet attention to tell him silly folklore from her homeland, a male dancer arrived with the attendant. Music was played again, small drums, tambourines, and a lyre. The couple smiled and watched the dancer move almost as if his body was made of water. He performed four separate dances, and when he was done, Prince Nitishila announced that he should be rewarded with a cube of gold that could fit in his palm. His attendant swore to make that happen.

As the sky was gradually taken by the gentle night, as the lamps were given their small flames, Inka continued to tell her husband many small things about her homeland. The climate, the cultures, the proverbs, even how beautiful a pond with a layer of ice is, and how much fun it was to ice skate. It was a terrible shame to know that she'd likely never experience that again. But at least there were new experiences here, in Gehna, weren't there?

Once she'd mentioned that last thing, purposely keeping her voice and face free from anything resembling regret nor homesickness, Prince Nitishila gently patted the top of her hand and said, "I only have so much authority in this world, but I promise you that I'll do whatever is feasible to keep you in comfort and peace."

It was one of the nicest promises anyone had ever given her, but Inka tried not to believe him, at least not right away.

The hour came soon.

They both took the time to have a refreshing wash. Prince Nitishila had to do with a bowl and a pitcher of water while Inka had a whole pool at her disposal. This was only because she was the apartment's mistress and her husband was technically a guest. When Inka was dry, she applied some perfume to her wrists, throat, and even a bit on her inner thighs. It smelled like vanilla with a vague hint of smoky amber.

Wearing her simple white outfit, her hair loose and heavy, Inka went to her circular bed with the canopy. Jorun helped her climb inside even thought she didn't really need to. "You have my sincerest hopes, Your Highness," she whispered to Inka, her smile mostly hidden in the shadows, "but you might not need them. Your courtly and benevolent husband has already fallen in love with you."

Waving her fingers up a few times, Inka told her, "It's only a physical attraction. He'll tire of me eventually."

"Can't help but doubt that," Jorun muttered as she looked back, likely to see if anyone was coming. "I have to leave you now, Mistress."

"Yes, yes. Go." She waved her fingers a bit harder. Then she watched Jorun's darkened figure quietly leave the room.

Inka rested on her belly, her breasts compressing against the mattress, her arms folding. Her mind was in a rare, calm state. Her husband would come. Her position would be more secure. Everything was now moving along as it should be. And he seemed gentle, if somewhat thoughtless and stupidly proud. The gifts he did show her in the end weren't necessary at all, and gathering them together wasted so much time, but they were lavish and nice to own.

She heard precise footsteps on the rug on the floor. Her eyes closed. There was the nearly silent flapping of the curtain.

"Wife? Would you mind if I sat beside you?"

Inka's voice trickled in the darkness, graceful but faint. "My husband is quite welcome here."

The mattress declined as Prince Nitishila's weight applied its pressure. She assumed her husband would lean over her, undress her, spread her legs, and do the duty without a word.

Well ... that was what she assumed ...

But an alternative was chosen.

One of her upper arms was seized and pulled out of its folded position. Inka gasped, but she was able to force down anything that could even imitate a scream. She opened her eyes, but she was too startled to see much other than shadows and spots of firelight.

Her upper body was pulled up, and she arranged herself into a kneeling position.

Held.

Held closely. Warm skin. Firm muscles. Was he nude?

There was a masculine perfume. Heady, strong, woody, a bit of leather, a pinch of spice.

Her clothing was too thin, really. The flesh of her breasts was pressed against the him. Her nipples were particularly sensitive to the heat. They puckered up like they'd touched ice instead.

As if he was searching for something, his nose was on her face for a short moment, his beard scraping against her cheeks and jaw. Then, his lips met hers. She tasted his soft moan as her fingers gripped his bare arms. Then she literally tasted him; his tongue seemed to think little of the danger in her teeth.

A kiss, an open kiss! Inka didn't think royal couples did such a thing. She'd thought only forbidden lovers would try it. There certainly were all sorts of experiences in Gehna, weren't there? Would he let her move her tongue too?

Ohhhhhh yes, he did! He ran his hands around her body as if touching gave him the best satisfaction. He suckled her tongue and tugged her pants down her hips. Then those pants were off in the nightly ether, somewhere. Inka didn't care where. He unwrapped his arms so he could help her remove her top, and she was just as nude as he was.

He didn't hold her again, at least not right then. He put his palms on her breasts, fingers spread out, and he kneaded her in a way that was nearly painful, but Inka knew she liked it. She found herself making the most unbecoming, duck-like noises.

His voice gently rumbling, Prince Nitishila only encouraged her. "Such a pretty little treasure. You're a white cloud in a blue sky, but you taste like a mother's homemade bread. Warmth and joy."

All while she quacked like an idiot, her breasts twinging and happily aching, her shoulders high as she purposely tried to put more of herself in his hands. Her belly burned. So did her thighs, and between her thighs too. She even thought something was slowly oozing out of her body, something slick and needy.

He leaned in and put his tongue on her throat as if he'd wanted to do so forever. At first, Inka's blood chilled at the strange, glossy organ on her skin. But when he ran it up to her jaw a few times, she shivered and felt the chill melt into a simmering puddle.

A lick on her cheek. Then her ear. And the prince whispered to her, "Lie on your back, Dear."

Inka let her fingers run through some of his long hair as she complied, falling down and putting her back and legs to the mattress. Prince Nitishila soon crawled to a place beside her. He kindly moved her hair out from underneath her body and away from her face. Then he hooked an arm around her shoulders and put the other down her body.

Her breath froze. She hugged his shoulders and neck. Another kiss.

The prince was touching her, probing a little, sliding his fingertips through her pubic hair and into the small crevice between her labia. The balls of her feet pressed down and the heels rose.

He kissed her cheek and said, "You're safe. Don't tense."

A gulp of saliva. A few breaths. Inka let her ankles and feet relax.

The clitoris wasn't difficult for him to find.

He kept his fingertips on it for a second or two, printing his heat there. Then, as Inka's brain sparked, small circles were made. Fire was made too. Inka couldn't see it, but she could feel it expanding from her core to her belly and chest, her legs and feet, and even to her face. For the first time in a long while, Inka cried out, but her husband hushed her with a kiss that made her run her fingernails over his back.

Then he changed his motion. He dipped his middle finger past the labia and into the quietly weeping little hole, making Inka's hands form fists, which pressed into the man's back.

With a dragging tongue, the prince slurped his way out of her mouth and playfully asked, "Weren't you educated on bed matters?"

She was at a loss for words. That wasn't normal for her. Even when she was quiet, she could always think of something to say.

As Prince Nitishila nuzzled her face, putting streaks of saliva over her, he reached and stroked deep inside her body, claiming her natural lubrication. Then he pulled out and laid his moistened fingertip back onto her clitoris.

"Ah!! Husband!! I ... I cant'!" If someone had asked for a meaning or translation of that, Inka wouldn't have been able to give it.

Prince Nitishila left her flexing little flower alone and pried one of her arms off of him, putting some mucus on her wrist. Then he guided her hand between his legs and gruffly told her to hold his manhood.

Soft flesh over steel.

But Inka knew better than to harm it. She was afraid of gripping too tightly.

Caressing between her thighs again, the prince said, "Go on, help it keep its attention."

Her hand twitched and struggled as another bunch of waves danced out from her clitoris. Then she put more authority in her fingers and listened to her husband's approving purrs. She thought her palms and fingers felt branded. Or maybe she was branding him? Was it important, really?

He had a little pubic hair too. It was groomed, but it was there, making almost paper-like noises every time she touched it.

A few more moments, and Inka's heart skipped as she heard the prince's sudden barking order. "Stop! I can no longer bear it!" She had to release him.

Taking her hips, the prince settled between her thighs, as Inka had thought he was supposed to do in the beginning. She did something she didn't expect to do before all this had happened. She put her arms back around him instead of stiffly keeping them to her sides.

Beard and breath on her throat.

A masculine huff with a curse word she'd never heard anyone say before.

The next movement was tight and frightening. Inka had to force herself to breathe. Her poor womanhood seemed unable to figure out what to do with this invasion. She took some of the prince's hair in her fingers.

But as he slowly, lightly, moved back and forth, her womanhood hurried to learn the exercise. The shock disintegrated into something sweet and melted, like hot icing over pudding.

"Huh ... Husband!!"

Faster, with deeper strokes. Groaning into her flesh.

It actually felt pleasant!

Inka's breasts bounced and slapped against herself. Her feet rose as her legs tried to wrap around him. She felt her mucus and a combination of both their sweat run between her buttock's cheeks. Her hidden channel was sucking up all the attention, greedy, happy, as if it had a brain and was wondering why this wasn't done sooner.

Yes, yes please!!

When Prince Nitishila finally shot his seed into her, Inka forgot what sight was like, because her body seized up and she squeezed his erection so hard that it felt like it could never leave. Her brain had left for a holiday.

Who could've foreseen this?

Pleasure?

Pleasure in fulfilling a duty forced upon oneself?

This was too easy, far too easy. There had to be a problem somewhere in this world.

Inka knew better than to soak herself in bliss for too long.

***

Nitishila stayed the night and remained the next morning to have breakfast with his wife. Soft little cakes of oats and diced vegetables with a dark dipping sauce. Fried eggs with crispy potatoes, a thick wheat porridge, and cups of sweetened water.

Much to his excitement, his wife was sitting very close to him. Their clothing almost touched. Sometimes, she might lose her balance on her cushion (or perhaps pretend this was so) and catch herself on him, gripping his arm and sighing.

So, even his icy princess liked to flirt, hm? How adorable!

At the end of one of the princess' little falls, Nitishila let his arm fall around her shoulders and held her tightly. She gave a tiny gasp but didn't protest. He even hand fed her a few times.

"Have you been told of the upcoming musical?" There was a private theatre in the palace, and specially chosen troupes would be asked to visit and perform every once in a while.

"Yes, I've heard about it. I'm looking forward to seeing a fine example of Gehnan performing arts."

Petting her arm, Nitishila said, "It'll be special occasion. Why don't you wear your pretty rainbow veil?"

"I'm too afraid to wear it." She actually put her cheek on his chest. Her earrings dangling on his skin. "I'm worried that I'll damage it. I'd rather hang it as one would a tapestry."

"Ridiculous. So ridiculous." He wasn't angry. He was still petting her. "My wife has the best things, and she should display them.

Princess Inka sighed.

A few days later, it was the morning of the show. Rain was there, heavy and thick, but not dangerous. Inside a hall of the palace, Prince Nitishila walked beside his wife, his hand on her shoulder. His parents were nearby, happily chatting. Nitishila was glad to see them eye his wife's rainbow veil with smiling faces. They approached and complimented the new princess.

"The colors suit your bright hair," his mother said.

"It's certainly worthy of you," his father said.

Princess Inka bowed to them. "I'm humbled by your praises."

"Hello there Nitiiiiiiii!!"

Everyone, even the attendants, turned to look at the approaching Princess Lataa. She was waving a hand in the air, her voice floating high. She and her attendant stepped fairly close to the rest of the family, and she gave Princess Inka a tight smile. "Oh! What a lovely veil!" She layered her hands over her bosom. "When I happened to hear one of the clothing managers mention a rainbow cloth, I thought perhaps one of my parents had ordered it, but it seems our favorite foreign princess ordered it, and only a day after she arrived." She seemed to take on a lightly surprised face, her lips rounding and her eyes widening. "I admire your boldness, sister-in-law. I'd be too afraid of being called greedy and thriftless to do such a thing."

Nitishila's thick black eyebrows lowered and his brow wrinkled. He looked down at his sister and would've said something, but his wife spoke up first.

"Oh? Have I offended someone with my purchase?"

"Hm? So you did purchase a rainbow cloth?" Nitishila turned to give the blonde princess a nonplussed look. "Well ... even if you did, it's not a crime."

Both of his parents' faces chilled as their frowns were set in place.

"It's certainly not a crime if she did," his father said as he folded his arms, "but did she? Her veil looks too familiar to me."

His mother swept some hair out of her eyes, her bracelets clacking and bouncing. "It's a surprising purchase. I wouldn't have done it. I'd rather save my allowance for something else, but she's an adult. She may do as she pleases."

Lataa turned to Princess Inka and her mouth opened, probably so she could've given a possible insult, but someone else interrupted her.