The Exchange Ch. 14

Even the moonlight felt hot and spicy.

Inka's poor legs and feet ached as she bounced up and down on her husband. He was on her bed in her apartment, and he was quite happy. Inka spread her fingers over his chest and purred with him.

His teeth flashed in the pale light, and he gripped her hips. "Damn, woman! You've ruined me!"

Inka bent down a little, her cunt sliding up the shaft but still quivering around the head. "Oh? And you haven't ruined me?" A kiss on his sharp chin, and then she reared back up, sinking on the erection. It made her slick little channel quiver, and her breath surged, but she was able to speak clearly. "We have no choice but to suffer together, Niti."

Again, rocking the mattress, the couple sighed and moaned.

When Inka finally felt the swelling, full feeling of his semen, she almost wondered if the sky was could fall.

In the morning, Nitishila combed her hair with his fingers, cooing to her about how beautiful the curls were. An almost expected rapping was heard at the window, and his eyelids flickered as he looked at the shutters. "Little Roshan is paying a visit." His limbs seemed so graceful as he rose from the bed. His hands pulled the shutters rather gently, as if he was afraid of startling the poor creature.

Inka rose too, and she asked, "Is our little visitor healthy this morning?"

Nitishila was quiet. He gripped the edge of the windowsill as his head pointed down. His hair was like a waterfall of black ink. His other hand moved towards the bird.

"Has he finally captured your heart today?" Inka teased. "Will you put him in a cage?"

She moved in beside him.

Nitishila's fingers were pinching something on the white bird's leg.

A knot of a cord, keeping a small roll of paper around the leg.

"What's that?" Inka asked.

Nitishila untied the cord and took the paper. He unrolled that paper and read aloud a message there.

"Everything's gone according to plan."

"What does that mean?" She took the paper from his fingers and turned it over, but she found nothing else.

Tight, scorched words. "Inka ... what have you been plotting?"

Tossing the paper somewhere, as if it meant nothing, Inka looked at his stern expression and said, "In order for me to plot, I must have a target, and I can't think of any targets." She paused and shook her head. "Unless you can provide a target, I'm quite lost."

"What am I meant to think?!" Nitishila folded his arms and turned his back on her.

She touched his shoulder. "Won't you trust me?"

She felt the muscles in his back flinch. Then she felt his body fill up with breath.

"Very well. I trust you, but tell me what the meaning of this bird is."

Inka walked around to face him. His nose was flushed. "I've never sent this bird anywhere. I'm not responsible for whatever its purpose is."

There was a flapping as the white bird left.

His posture relaxing, Nitishila asked, "Do you think someone is trying to harm you again?"

Her knuckles on her jaw, Inka hummed a little. "I don't have all the information yet, and so I can't tell you anything of value, but I will say that I don't think I'm the target here." Before Nitishila could find enough breath for a protest, she put her fingertips at his lips, feeling the petal-like textures surrounded by rough hair. "If I tell you any more, you might launch a public investigation, and that's not the best route. Always let the idiots perform, remember?"

He gently pushed her hand away. "Then what would you have me do?"

Inka smiled a little.

Only a little.

She imagined that if another person stood before her, they wouldn't be able to notice the smile.

She looked back to the open window. "Never forget who you married nor why."

***

Some days later, Nitishila was excited to visit his wife again. He had some plans concerning the new medical wing that was being created that he wanted to chat with her about. There was also the upcoming holiday of sorts on the ship he wanted to discuss with her. However, when he was at the indoor entrance to Inka's apartment, the answering servant humbly told him, "We won't refuse you, Your Majesty, but you should know that our mistress is terribly gloomy. She won't be a lively host. She won't allow any unnecessary visitors. She's even banned all the doctors from tending to her."

"I saw my mother go in this direction some hours ago," Nitishila said with a growing frown. "Was she received?"

Bowing, the servant said, "My mistress would never be so uncivil to the wise Empress Dowager. However, that fine Dowager didn't stay long. She seemed highly frustrated with my mistress' pessimism, and she left quickly."

"Then I must go to her." Nitishila gave the servant an expectant look, and the servant was properly intimidated. Nitishila was led into the apartment, but not to the reception room. He was taken to a room with a large window that had a decorative screen rolled across it. The screen was of wood, with an open framework that had shapes of leaves and huge flowers. The sunlight put an interesting pattern out on the floor, and on Inka.

The young empress was lounging on a long sofa, making the most sensational exhales. A stack of texts were on a nearby table and her fingers listlessly clung to a corner of one of them. On a second and larger table, there were trays loaded with so many edible things that it was amazing. Savory and sweet. Meat and vegetables. Fruit and nuts. Beans and leaves. Sugar and spice. Meal-worthy, and dessert-worthy. Their contrasting scents overloaded the area.

Indu the dog sat at the end of the sofa, close to Inka's feet, and she whined and whimpered, as if she thought she'd be given a treat soon. Jorun sat at her post with her hand on her tight lips, her eyes weak as she watched her mistress put bite after bite of food away in her stomach. She bowed in her seat when she noticed Nitishila and said, "Your Majesty, we're all highly honored by your presence, but I'm afraid Her Majesty's too bleak to recognize that."

Nitishila tried not to roll his eyes. He knelt down before the sofa, close to Inka's upper body. She looked at him and sighed again. "Oh, my pitiable husband is here." She put a bittersweet looking thing, coated in orange sauce, past her lips and loudly chewed.

"What nonsense is in your head?" He thought this was more humiliating than anything she'd ever shown him during copulation. "When you were last in a malaise, your appetite decreased. Now you're eating as much as an elephant, or a mouse, even a shrew. What's caused this?"

Inka's lips trembled, and it was so strange to him that he assumed she was putting on a show. Her voice lacked strength. "Husband, my sweet husband, I've ferreted out as much information as possible in these texts. There is no answer to our problem. We'll remain childless."

"That's not unquestionably true." He let his fingers caress the wrist of the hand holding a text. "There's still hope. We're young and healthy."

Inka's eyes closed for a moment as she wailed some statements, actually wailed, as if she wanted everyone inside and outside the apartment, and maybe in some of the palace's hallways, to hear her. "My youth will expire before we have any children!! And I'll have no support in this empire! I'll never have children and there's nothing for me to do but enjoy what limited time I have in my exalted position!!" Then, after Nitishila finished cringing at the sudden and uncharacteristic volume, Inka took a heavy swallow of tea and a few more bites of food.

Nitishila shuffled back a few inches. "My Darling, I doubt you can each so much food without becoming ill." He had to wait for her to force down the food so she could speak clearly.

"Let me be ill!! It matters not!! I want to eat all the fine foods I'll never see in Eiragla!!"

Nitishila cringed again.

Then he studied her eyes.

Unlike the rest of her face, Inka's eyes were frigid.

And he trusted her.

He used the back of his hand and his knuckles to caress her shoulder and arm. Dark against light. Henna against henna. Oddly, he thought of Jaya from an incident years ago. She'd been unusually hungry that day, and she ate everything given to her. She hadn't been depressed, or not to Nitishila's knowledge, but he still thought of her. He imagined she was doing very well, a happy and maybe plump mother with children.

"Rest well, Dear, and try not to eat yourself to death." He patted her arm and rose to his feet. "But try to find some more happiness. I'd hate for you to be miserable on your birthday trip."

He left his wife alone, and on the following days he only visited for a few minutes at a time. On one late afternoon, he thought he might try to be rather intimate with Inka, but she screamed, literally screamed, that there was no point in joining and he might as well leave. Her face had turned red. Her maids gawked at her. Jorun put her hand to her throat and looked away. One of the guards outside peeked in a window to make sure everything was alright.

Nitishila couldn't say he understood whatever scheme was being carried out, but he knew he didn't want to interfere. Whatever Inka wanted, if it was reasonable, she'd have it.

Even his mother agreed to leave Inka alone, although she didn't seem to understand that something peculiar was going on. "That poor child is so miserable," she'd said to Nitishila on one morning. "Torturing herself with her thoughts. We must think of a way to soothe her."

"The birthday trip will be grand enough," Nitishila had told her. "And when the medical wing is finished, I believe she'll be pleased."

"Many of the doctors who applied to be teachers there tended to Inka at one time or another," the Empress Dowager had said. "Perhaps that will ensure her trust in the school."

Nitishila thought about his mother's words for some more days. Even when he wrestled with his pet tigers on a cool morning, he'd often think of those words. Then his brain seemed to empty itself out, then fill itself with the fact that Inka had demanded that no doctors visit her.

He was leaving the tigers to go have a bath when the sometimes dusty machinery in his brain tried to mill the facts together and produce a useful flour of a conclusion.

The doctors were forbidden from tending to Empress Consort Inka. They certainly had done so beforehand. What had made Inka change her mind? Why wouldn't she want doctors to monitor her?

***

Not long ago, Inka was an hourglass of a woman.

Now, she was almost a plump rectangle. Whenever Nitishila visited he assumed Inka was a little embarrassed about it. She wore more clothing. It wasn't quite winter yet, but Inka hid everything but her feet, hands, and head. It didn't do her many favors, however. Nitishila could see how ... chubby ... she was. Even her sad little face was rounder. She didn't move much, but when she did she was slow and clumsy. At least her hair was prettier. It reached the middle of her back.

One day, Nitishila took her soft and almost weakened hand and whispered to her, "Let a doctor in. You might be ill."

"There's no use," she replied after taking a rather difficult, shaky breath. "If my lack of control kills me, then so be it. You're better off with a dead Empress than a barren one." She was sweating a little. Nitishila ordered a maid to operate the fans on the ceiling. Then he told another one to use a hand fan on the sluggish empress.

"Can you blame your nervous husband for being concerned?"

Putting her hand between her breasts, which were a bit larger than before this odd depression took hold, Inka said, "I have no ill will towards my loyal, attentive husband. Please take no offense." Then she turned her rounded face towards Jorun and said, "Pickled cucumbers, do we have any?"

Nodding, Jorun answered, "I believe we do."

"If there's none," Inka said, "then something with vinegar, please. And sweet berry pastries."

"Yes, Mistress. Would you like anything else?"

Nitishila's eyes bulged as his wife continued. She honestly hadn't stopped with this new diet.

"Chicken with sweet and sour sauce, if it's available," Inka said. "Why aren't you writing this down?"

Jorun scrambled to look for something, and then she had some paper with a pen. That pen's handle wiggled furiously as she wrote the previous items down. "Yes, is there anything else my mistress would like?"

"Sweet waffles," Inka replied, "with berries and honey."

"You've had a waffle iron imported?" Nitishila swept some of Inka's hair away from her neck. "Or did you have someone learn how to make one?"

"That's not important," Inka told him with a sigh. "Salted, boiled potatoes. And yogurt."

Nodding again, Jorun wrote these things down. "Would you like anything else?"

Inka just ... gave more and more items.

Nitishila covered his eyes with his hands and said he was going to take his leave. He didn't want to see Inka gorge herself into a coma.

***

The ship was massive, far too big for what it was needed for, but that was of little importance. There were glittering streamers, a rainbow's worth of colorful lanterns, nearly countless performers at the ready, and a kitchen bursting with people and food. Each cabin was deluxe, but the Royal Family's cabins were the most deluxe of all. There were three separate rooms with the finest things. There was even gold and mother of pearl enamel decorating most of the furniture.

Nitishila assisted Jorun and Dey with getting Inka into her cabin. Inka was fully capable of walking on her own, but she often complained that was tired and hated moving. So, Jorun held one of her hands. Dey took the other. And Nitishila lingered behind, ready to catch Inka if she fell over.

When Inka was near her silk covered bed, she collapsed onto it with a groan. "This wintry, salty air will turn me ill!" she whined.

"I believe it will improve your health," Nitishila said as he helped Inka roll over onto her back. He tapped and flicked her nose. "Now swear to me that you'll try to be happy for your birthday trip."

"I swear," Inka said as she looked away. "Is there time for a nap?"

Nitishila petted her fluffy hair. "There certainly is, but when your attendant wakes you up you must rise."

Her great chest rose and fell as she said, "I'll do whatever pleases you."

When Nitishila was at the cabin's door, his feet paused, one of them with a heel still in the air. Then he turned around and asked, "Where's Indu?"

Inka's hand rose in a pitiful, indifferent wave. "I left her at the palace. The ocean is a death sentence for that little creature. I doubt she could last more than a minute if she fell overboard."

Shrugging, Nitishila said, "I doubt she cares about being left behind as long as someone's there to feed her."

Then he truly left.

The first day's celebration had to begin soon, and Nitishila had servants help him dress for the occasion. Purple clothing with silver embroidery. Chains of gold with swinging pendants of alexandrite, jadeite, and black pearls. He was looking forward to seeing Inka wearing similar pretty things. Escorted by Mamun and a few higher servants, Nitishila left his cabin to find Inka's. It wasn't far off.

Inside, he found Inka standing in an outfit that modestly covered her body, but was no less profuse than his. Her sleeves were long and slightly fitted, with wide gold bangles covering sleeves' cuffs. Certainly, those bangles had their rows of gemstones, and so did most of her jewelry. Even her curly hair had expensive ornaments.

Holding her fingers to her belly, walking towards Nitishila, Inka lightly said to him, "I'm grateful for all this rare finery."

Nitishila stroked the flesh just above her blouse's neckline and smiled. "Come now. You're the center of attention today."

With Inka's attendant and servants also following, the group left for the dining hall.

The tables gleamed. The guests had shiny black tables with silver decorations while the Royal Family had white tables with gold decorations. The Empress Dowager was the first to enter with her retinue, but before she did so she looked back to give Nitishila a motherly smile. After the applause, Nitishila entered with his retinue. More applause. Then Inka had to come. Confetti was tossed into the air. Music was played. And of course, there was applause.

When everything was quiet again, Nitishila rose from his chair and clapped his hands twice. Then he said, "Now, I will draw lots to see which guests will be allowed to present their gifts to the Empress Consort today." Instead of all at once, only a portion of the guests would give gifts on each day. Mamun held an open box of various folded papers for Nitishila to choose from, and it was all done well.

Inka displayed what Nitishila understood to be her "happy face." It was her normal, cold, mysterious expression. She accepted each present gracefully, never judging one to be superior to the other. A small marble statue of playing dogs? Inka was thankful. A bolt of silk brocade? Yes, lovely. An unusually large white pearl kept on a cushion in a box? Just as well received as the others. A sewing kit with gold plated utensils? Yes, Inka showed her restrained appreciation to that too. Glittering spools of thread? Inka expressed her thanks again.

But Nitishila noticed something different.

When a certain prince, Mayur Mishradas, approached to hand his gift to Jorun, Inka looked at Nitishila's eyes.

The corners of her lips rose only for a moment.

But she was cool again when Jorun opened the box and held the contents before her. Inka's fingers dug into the box and pulled out a necklace of dark blue round beads. They were likely lapis lazuli stones. Between each large bead, there was a smaller bead of gold.

Again, Inka turned to Nitishila and let something that was almost a smile flicker at him.

When it was time for the gifts to be put away and the dancing to begin, Nitishila was still wondering about Inka's expressions. He felt that she purposely gave those little lip movements to him. She wanted him to know something, something about Prince Mayur, but she clearly wasn't going to say anything to him. After a while, Nitishila decided that Inka probably didn't want him to figure out something specific, but she did want him to think about Mayur.

That prince had wanted to marry Lataa at one point, but when word spread that Lataa was no longer considered to be a good person, he'd stopped asking about her. Nitishila didn't understand what could be so special about him, but he knew that if Inka wanted him to consider him then he'd have to do it.

When that day's party was over, it was time for the guests and the Royal Family to essentially wander around the ship, admiring the sea and watching the protective guard ships. They sipped beverages and had very light snacks, since so much food had already been eaten. None of the guests were allowed to approach the Royal Family without permission.

Whenever Inka was offered alcohol she refused and would ask for herbal tea or water instead. Nitishila assumed she was afraid of getting drunk. She'd also shown more restraint with her eating habits, both at the party and during this leisurely stroll.

Nitishila kept her close, his arm around her shoulders and sometimes pecking her hair with his lips when he thought nobody would notice. He really thought she was in a much better mood than before the party. She was even walking straighter.

Nitishila felt very proud of himself. He'd arranged a fine celebration worthy of an emperor, and certainly worthy of an empress. And a happier empress would have an easier time producing heirs, wouldn't she? Maybe she'd let him into her cabin. All the attendants and higher servants had a few cabins to share for those sorts of situations. It wouldn't be a problem. As for Inka's appearance, well, she'd gained some significant weight but she wasn't obese yet. And some regular exercise would melt away the excess fat, regardless. Dancing, walking, and even playing certain yard games would be beneficial.