The Gracious Mother sat primly on her divan, spine straight as a sword, hands resting neatly in her lap.
Her gown was an elegant shade of green, deep and vibrant, a colour. Joana had rarely seen her wear before. And yet, somehow, it suited her perfectly. Emerald stones gleamed around her neck and wrists, each piece of goldwork crafted so finely that it seemed made for her alone. Her hair was wrapped and tucked under a cloth-of-gold veil that shimmered under the bright sunlight pouring in from the tall arched windows behind her.
In the many months since Joana had come to know her secrets, she had begun to believe that there was no garment the Mother could not transform into something glorious.
Although Joana found her lewd side, it didn't make the gracious mother any less beautiful. She was still as gorgeous as before, as beautiful as before, her plump breasts and big and bubbly ass were still there.... nothing changed. She was a true MILF.
She had that rare ability to make everything she wore look as though it had been designed specifically for her—tailored not only to her figure but to her presence. Years of wealth, power, and privilege had given her more than just riches.
They had given her the wisdom to know exactly what suited her best. She was a woman who understood her own form and how to wield it like armor. She was, without question, a creature worthy of admiration—of awe. Joana couldn't deny it.
The Mother's dark eyes, black and piercing, were fixed on her face now, steady and serious. Her mouth was drawn in a thin white line, betraying no emotion. "Are you certain?" she asked, voice calm but holding something harder beneath it.
"Yes, Mother," Joana replied quietly, placing a hand over the lower curve of her stomach. Beneath the shift and the snug fit of her bodice, her belly still lay flat, untouched by the swell that would soon begin to show. But even now, she could feel the faintest change within her body—a heaviness, a quiet presence. "The gods have blessed me again."
"How long has it been?" the Queen Mother asked, her voice soft yet probing.
Joana's cheeks warmed, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her gown. "Ten days, He...Your Majesty took me riding under the stars all night, filling me over and over. I think it was at that time. Three days later, my body showed some signs: my breasts grew tender and swollen like my first pregnancy, and a faint sickness stirred each morning. My womb felt full and heavy. I waited to be certain, knowing this second child was conceived that night."
Her voice was clear and simple, laying bare every detail with care. She spoke plainly, eager to please, knowing the Queen Mother deserved no less than honesty. Yet the older woman's regal presence loomed large, her eyes sharp and unreadable.
So what if they shared a secret now? It changed nothing. The Queen Mother held the power to welcome her or cast her from the palace with a single word.
A long sigh escaped the Mother as she slowly turned her gaze toward the child crawling across the floor.
Little Jaehaerys was busy with the woven rug beneath him, reaching out with curious hands and exploring with single-minded joy. Already nine moons into his life, he moved with ease.
"He grows well," the Mother murmured, her voice softening. "Prince Maekar is two months older and still doesn't crawl as nimbly as him."
"Jaehaerys is curious," Joana said with a fond smile, her voice barely above a whisper. "I spread sheets over the floor in my rooms so he can move freely without fear. He loves the space." She paused for a moment, then added thoughtfully, "I think I know why the First Prince struggles. From what I've seen, the other mothers never even let their sons touch the floor."
Too protective, she thought. Overly so. If babies are always kept in arms, how would they ever learn to live? In the streets of the capital, she had often seen children crawling freely in the corners of septs and alleys, untethered and unguarded. Why should imperial blood change the basics of growth? A baby was still a baby, no matter the crown waiting above his head.
"Jaehaerys, my love," the Mother called out, her tone turning gentle, inviting. The baby lifted his head at once, lips parted in a surprised O, blinking as he realized someone was speaking to him. "Come to your grandmother. Let me give you a kiss."
His face brightened instantly. He let out a delighted squeal and began to crawl eagerly toward her, laughing as he moved, arms pumping with excitement.
Joana's smile widened as she watched him. There was a joy in his expression that made her heart swell. He sat back on his little ankles to wave his arms at his grandmother, completely enchanted.
The Mother chuckled softly and reached for him, scooping him up with the ease of someone who had done this many times before. Her hands were steady, sure. She brought his soft head close and pressed a tender kiss against his hair. Jaehaerys sighed contentedly and nestled against her, clinging with both hands.
"Less than a year old," the Mother murmured into the crown of his head, "and already our boy is on the path to becoming an older brother."
"Yes," Joana said, voice low but certain. "I think he will be amazing at this task."
The Mother nodded slowly. "We will have to see, of course." Her voice remained composed, but when she turned her head to look at Joana again, there was a sharpness behind her gaze. Joana sat straighter under the weight of those almond-shaped black eyes. "Since Aegon already has sons, there's no need to make a formal announcement yet. We may wait for the quickening."
"Of course," Joana replied quickly, though the words left her mouth with a slight stiffness. The mention of the Emperor's other sons always caused a sting. She couldn't deny them—not their blood, not their place in the line—but that didn't mean it didn't ache. "With your permission, I'll inform His Majesty as soon as I'm granted an audience."
"I wouldn't expect anything else from you," the Mother said gently. "You're a good girl, Joana. I only hope my son treats you as you deserve."
"He treats me wonderfully," Joana said, and it wasn't a lie. The Emperor was nothing if not tender with her. He touched her with reverence and looked at her as though she were something precious. His kisses were warm and slow, and his voice turned soft whenever he spoke her name. "The Mother has nothing to worry about."
"I never worry," the older woman murmured, eyes gleaming faintly. "I have great faith in you, my dear." With Jaehaerys still cradled in her arms, she leaned forward and brushed her fingers gently against Joana's hand. "Pregnancy gives you such a glow. It brings joy to all of us. I'm sure my son will be overjoyed to hear it."
"I hope so," Joana said, lowering her hand once more to her still-flat stomach. She wanted to feel the baby, But it would take time for anything new to show. Another fortnight, perhaps, before she would begin to feel the tightening of her skirts. A full moon before it could no longer be hidden. "I'm praying for a girl this time, Mother." She already had a son—there was no urgent need for another.
The Mother gave a wistful smile. "Daughters are such a blessing," she said. Then her eyes clouded slightly, turning inward. "Even when they disappoint you."
"I'm certain the Princess never meant to upset you, Mother," Joana said gently, though she chose her words with care.
"She humiliated me," came the flat reply. The softness in her voice was gone, replaced by something colder. "I promised the Velmonts a princess. Now, they have nothing. What else can be said?"
Joana said nothing. She knew any talk of love or female feelings would not be welcome here—not with the Gracious Mother. She simply sat still, letting the silence stretch for a moment. Then, Jaehaerys rubbed at his tired little eyes with the back of his hand, and Joana seized the moment to rise.
"I must take him back now, Mother," she said gently. "It's time for his nap."
"Of course," the Mother replied, her voice smoothing out again. "I hope to see you soon, my dear."
"I'll come tomorrow for your greeting," Joana said as she lifted Jaehaerys into her arms, settling him against her shoulder. "Or has Her Highness forgotten?"
"I have not," the Mother answered, smiling.
"I'll bring Jaehaerys again, to stay after all the others have gone," Joana added softly. "That way, Her Highness will have more time with him."
The Mother didn't answer right away, but her smile widened. That was all the confirmation Joana needed. Jaehaerys was the only grandchild whose mother wasn't considered a threat. There had to be some measure of favor in that.
She could only hope so.