Cultivating Plants

43. Weakness



Perhaps a trigger warning is needed for this chapter?

My beta readers and patrons said there was no problem, but just in case, this chapter contains sexual harassment.

It's also an interlude, but as I have said before, I don't recommend skipping them.

 

Being summoned twice in such a short window of time was unheard of. The sultanah was a volatile person, everyone knew that, but being summoned in a matter of days of difference was mindboggling. That would mean that the sultanah was interested in you. And Aaliyah-al-Ydaz was interested in no one, not even her many paramours.

Either way, Hassan instantly responded to the summon.

Unlike the previous one, this time he had to meet with the sultanah in the palace’s baths. The servants were adamant that Hassan went to meet her immediately. The baths were massive, steaming water and perfume loading the air whilst columns of marble and gold littered the room. More of an obstruction than an actual architectural necessity.

Unsurprisingly enough, every inhabitant of the baths was naked. Their ages also raised a lot of brows, Hassan doubted no one was over the age of twenty-five in the room. That was also, unfortunately, unsurprising. As a paragon of agelessness, Aaliyah-al-Ydaz hated signs of age like wrinkles or grey hair.

Every maid was a gawking beauty and, more likely than not, a noblewoman. And there were a lot of maids. Considering the sheer prestige of serving the sultanah, Hassan didn’t even doubt the possibility of having a house matriarch as a maid if said matriarch was young enough. And then furthering that it was likely you were welcome on Aaliyah-al-Ydaz’s harem, it was even a sought position.

Bisexuality was already high enough in Asina thanks to the high concentration of cultivators, but the rumors of increasing lesbianism were running rampant. Hassan didn’t understand it, perhaps because he was the son of the sultanah, but it was said that a single look at Aaliyah-al-Ydaz changed the preferences of women. It was more likely for him to believe that lesbianism in Asina was because of the sultanah rather than a decision independently taken by women.

Men, on the other hand, just doubled down in their orientation after seeing Aaliyah-al-Ydaz.

Bisexuality was common for WOMEN. Straight-up homosexuality was basically only present in the female gender, though there were cases of the opposite. Rare ones, but still existed.

If a look from afar was enough to change the sexuality of women, what would the naked body of the sultanah do? The answer was obvious: the gazes of the maids were all directed at Aaliyah-al-Ydaz, they didn’t even notice Hassan entering the room. For rulers of other nations, or even nobles in Ydaz, that may have been an executable offense. ‘How dare these low-lives to gaze our queen?’ was something Hassan imagined such monarchies would say. But Aaliyah-al-Ydaz rejoiced in their lusty gazes. Some lucky enough would even be allowed to look closely.

Closely indeed.

“Ehem.” Hassan cleared his throat as no one paid attention to his arrival, even less the sultanah. 

Said person was enjoying a comfortable bath in a pool of coconut milk.

“Oh,” Aaliyah-al-Ydaz turned her back, revealing not only her bare chest but her company, a young boy. 

He was of age, but judging by his appearance, barely so. Even then, Hassan doubted the boy was that young. The sultanah did not tolerate incompetence or stupidity, the defining traits of a child. Her own children were barely tolerated sometimes. But Hassan believed that boy to be an adult, Aaliyah-al-Ydaz was a debauched woman, but not that far gone. 

“You’ve finally arrived, Hassan-al-Sadina.” The sultanah melodiously sang.

The emir didn’t elaborate further as now that the sultanah had become aware of her presence, his speech was needless until signalized. Especially as Aaliyah-al-Ydaz was amidst her diversion.

The boy in the sultanah’s arms was truly small in comparison. Not only Aaliyah-al-Sadina was a colossus of two meters of height with highlighted muscles, but the boy was undeveloped for his age. Certainly the reason why the sultanah had chosen him.

Trapped in bliss, this was truly the highest point in the boy’s life as he was being pampered by the strong and regal hands of the sultanah. If rumors were to be trusted, he would regret it once Aaliyah-al-Ydaz was done with him in bed. Hassan wouldn’t spoil his fun though.

The sultanah caresses weren’t affectionate, but dominant. The boy, in more than one way, wasn’t a paramour, but cattle. It was obvious given by the boy’s face and the hidden hands of Aaliyah-al-Ydaz under the coconut milk bath what the sultanah was doing to the poor – or fortunate – lad.

A few moments later, the boy’s face twisted in indescribable ecstasies, making clear that the bath was no longer composed of a single type of milk.

Aaliyah-al-Sadina licked her hands in a gormandizing manner, sending a shiver of repulsion down Hassan’s spine. The boy or the maids may have found the sultanah’s lecherous gestures seductive, but for her son, it was truly despicable.

For a brief instant, Hassan worried for the boy’s life as he lost consciousness and his head dropped into the milk, the sultanah was too mighty to care about his life and too occupied as she calmly made her way out of the coconut milk bath. Thankfully for the boy, one of the many maids in the room took pity on him and saved him from drowning. Aaliyah-al-Ydaz made no comments on the lack of etiquette of the maid by rushing into the bath as her master was getting out.

But knowing Aaliyah-al-Ydaz, Hassan suspected that she would punish the maid later. Even if ‘punishment’ wasn’t exactly the right word as he strongly believed the sultanah would deal with the maid alongside the boy later on the day.

As the sultanah made her way out of the bath, the milk slowly dripped down her naked body. The contrast between the white milk and Aaliyah-al-Ydaz’s bronze skin was jaw-dropping. But ignoring the woman’s beauty – a thing Hassan absolutely wanted to do – what highlighted in her shape was her stomach.

In the few days since his last visit, Aaliyah-al-Ydaz’s pregnant belly had rounded even more. She was probably due in a couple of months, if not less. He didn’t keep track of his mother’s many children. For other women, the curves of pregnancy may have made them lose their beauty. But we weren’t talking about any women. 

We were talking about Aaliyah-al-Ydaz.

The gazes of the maids were as lewd on her belly as any other position of the sultanah’s body. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only sane man in a desert of madness. Hassan thought in the confines of his mind as he carefully controlled his body, even he wasn’t immune from the nakedness rules of the bath. It partially offended him that none of the sights of the maids were on him.

“Do you know why I have summoned you here?” Aaliyah-al-Ydaz asked as very enthusiastic maids started drying her with soft towels, clearly enjoying their privileged position to touch the sultanah.

“I do not, my Sultanah.” Hassan directed to her mother by her title, it felt the most appropriate.

“I see.” The cold look of hate was enough for Hassan to know that he hadn’t chosen the right answer. Even if he had no other choice.

Nothing could have prepared him for the supersonic blast.

A blur was all he could see before his body was flung around like a piece of old cloth. His back impacted the stone walls of the bath in a loud explosion. A normal person would have died from the impact, if not instantly volatilized in a bloody mist. Hassan was luckily a decent cultivator, his body trained like the best steel. Still, the crash was so violent that it left him in a daze, only the chunk of stone dropping in his head was able to clear his mind.

His vision, obstructed by dust and blurriness, only revealed the approaching silhouette of the sultanah.

Slow, regal, but menacing.

“Do you know why I have summoned you here?” Aaliyah-al-Ydaz repeated herself.

The deadly tone in her voice was enough to liberate the maids of her pink-colored trance, the young naked noblewomen stayed locked in place in dread.

“I...” Hassan wasn’t even able to respond as the shock had puffed the air out of his lungs. And if Aaliyah-al-Ydaz’s presence was able to stop people from breathing in her normal state, in her enraged state it was a hundred times worse.

“You truly don’t know, do you?” The sultanah looked down on him. She was already taller than Hassan, but as he lay stunned on the ground, she was as tall as the heavens.

Before Hassan could respond, Aaliyah-al-Ydaz put her foot on his leg. A gesture that may ignite the hearts of all men and women only sunken his heart. And she pressed down.

Hard.

A soundless scream left Hassan’s mouth as he twisted in pain. He felt his throat tear apart, but that pain wasn’t comparable to that of his femur breaking in half. Not even the insane resilience of a cultivator was enough to compete against the force of nature that was Aaliyah-al-Ydaz.

Why? Hassan asked in his mind, the pain only presenting more difficulties in breathing, the corners of his eyes presenting hints of water.

“You don’t know.” It was a statement, not a question. “You don’t even realize what you did wrong.” The eyes of the sultanah lacked any compassion. “I am disappointed.”

Her last words broke Hassan. Those weren’t the words of a monarch dissatisfied with its subject but of a mother. A mother that wasn’t enraged, for her useless son didn’t even deserve that.

“You are more stupid than I thought.” Aaliyah-al-Ydaz knelt down. She never did that. Even if it was just to whisper in Hassan’s ears. “You tried to appease the assassins. The fucking leeches. You offered damned tribute to the scum of the sands. You showed weakness.

Aaliyah-al-Ydaz stood up, her skin impervious to the dust that was lingering in the air. That didn’t stop the maids from rushing to their master once they were freed from their stupefaction.

The sultanah stopped in her tracks, without looking back at him, she uttered a single phrase. “Disappoint me one more time…”

There was nothing else to say. Both of them knew the following words.

 

Daily reminder that the characters, the narrator, and the author may not share the same ideas.

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