Okay?" Yeah. Okay," I replied. "But I'm not really part of it. You know? I mean, it's one of those other guys who's going to be getting you pregnant. ...ot me." But your my husband," she emphasized. "I'm not doing this because I don't love you. Right? You do know that. I hope." Yes," I replied. "I know you love me. I don't doubt that.And I love you, too! You know it's been hard for me to accept that I can't get you pregnant; and I know that's really important to you. I get that. I do. But I. " Have you forgotten the studies of your youth, Your Majesty? Did your father waste all his money on those tutors."I grinned. "Not all the tutors." Magdalena had a spectacular bosom and she made the most spectacular moans when she came beneath me.John's eyes flickered to my wife embroidering in the corner, her impressive bosom, enhanced by her pregnancy, displayed by her plunging, square-cut bodice lined by lacy ruffles. She had the blonde hair of a Princess of Zeutch, the shattered lands to. She hated her, the bitch, Camille felt she did not get enough, but liked to watch the dancers bump and grind and was very inconsistent in how she applied the rules.Not seeing her, Camille guided her patron's hand to her inner thigh, just beyond her G-string. After a brief hesitation the hand explored and touched the outside of her costume, Camille could feel the coolness and she imagined that her patron felt the heat.The music stopped and Camille paused, their eyes locked for a moment, her. On the fourth day after her father's death, Princess Elaheh wandered into the kitchen and picked up a long sharp kitchen knife. None of the kitchen slaves dared to question this and she slipped the knife up her sleeve. Returning to the harem she sat beside the pool near the entrance and waited. For four hours she sat there and then, as she had hoped and expected, the Emir Mustapha came bustling into the harem and caught sight of her."Are you ready to come willingly to my bed and bear me a son?".