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Arrangement (Part 2)
🕑 Added 2022-03-13 08:13:16 +0000 UTCI posted Parts 2 and 3 of the Arrangement series elsewhere a while ago, but realized they're not currently up here on Patreon, so I'm rectifying that now!
***
“Your Majesty, this is… well, not entirely unprecedented, but certainly unorthodox. Not since Calista II’s reign has any sovereign attempted to give their consort the full powers of the crown,” Amalia’s least favorite councilor spluttered.
Connor swallowed the bite of pie he’d just put into his mouth. Knowing that Connor would need to be present and focused during this council meeting, Amalia had requested that a few small treats be brought to the council’s meeting chambers, and he had tucked in almost before he’d sat down. If he keeps eating like he has been, he’s going to graduate from plump to fat in a matter of weeks, Amalia thought, her toes curling a bit as her cheeks flushed with heat.
“Councilor,” Connor said, already filling his fork with more flaky, gooey pie, “I think we all know that the situation with Calista II was quite different from this one. It was nearly four hundred years ago and Calista was manipulated out of all of her sovereign powers by her consort, who eventually executed her once she birthed an heir. That is not the case here.” He paused to take a bite, his lips stained slightly by the purplish filling of the pie he’d already finished half of. “My marriage to Amalia is one of equals and it is important to me that the law reflects this. We all know I’m quite capable. But so is Amalia. She deserves to have a chance to shine.” Connor popped an enormous bite into his mouth, his bulging cheeks indicating to Amalia that he was done speaking.
“This new law would change nothing, really, except my title and official abilities. It is also not meant to reflect poorly on the king or his capabilities. It is only meant to allow him more freedom to attend to diplomatic matters and the court while I can step in and handle matters of state.” Amalia continued for a while, fully explaining her motives—or, at least, the ones that mattered. Sure, in her heart of hearts she knew a major part of her desire to run the country was her hope that Connor would continue to soften and grow even more indolent and spoiled, but the council didn’t need to know that.
The rumors that were circulating were already bad enough. Connor had stopped seeing many of his mistresses. Some he had dismissed himself out of boredom, but others had permanently excused themselves from his attentions because they found his recent weight gain repulsive. Many were saying the king had grown less virile and insisted that if Amalia became pregnant, it would be impossible that it was Connor’s. Others believed the marriage bed had gone cold and that was the reason the king had turned into such a gourmet. Amalia couldn’t put a damper on any of these rumors without revealing their bedroom habits in far too much detail, so she kept her mouth shut. She had more pressing matters to attend to than gossip.
After nearly an hour of debating back and forth, the council finally relented. They had run out of real reasons to keep the new law from passing. Amalia would have to attend a small ceremony and sign some documents to finalize the matter and then it would be official. Connor’s smile as he asked the council to exit the room cemented Amalia’s belief that this had been the right idea.
As the door to the council chambers closed, the king pushed his queen onto the table as she laughed. He pushed up her skirts and murmured something in her ear about being impatient for dessert, and as he teased at her most sensitive point with his heavy, full belly, she knew she wouldn’t be leaving the room until her legs were wobbling like a newborn fawn’s.
***
Amalia found herself quite pleased with Connor’s progression. They were a few years into their marriage, and one would’ve thought Connor had been the one who had carried both their children rather than herself. He had grown heavy and round as the dense cakes he begged her to stuff into his mouth when they made love.
Not that he did much lovemaking now. The maneuvering required had become so laborious for him that he reserved that pleasure for rare occasions. In fact, Amalia had been delighted to discover that he seemed to prefer when she climbed atop his belly and took her own pleasure. More often than not, he would grind up against the soft press of his gut, the two of them moaning as they rode the enormous monument to Connor’s gluttony between them.
Amalia had needed to look into new ventures to keep the crown’s coffers full enough to satisfy her king. She had not yet resorted to war, but she had not yet ruled it out. Her husband’s appetite seemed to grow each month, not only in size, but also in particularity. Sure, he could glut himself on simple cakes and fire-roasted meats and be physically satisfied, but it lacked the spice he truly desired. He wanted flavor, novelty. A belly full of ortolans was rather different than a belly full of meat pie. Amalia was inclined to agree. Listening to his stomach groan as it digested particularly fantastical meals with ingredients from far-off lands was far more pleasant.
She was truly pleased with the life she had made for the two of them. Her husband grew fatter every day while she had every ounce of power she’d ever desired. While he might be commanding with her in the bedroom and quite exacting when it came to food, he had grown altogether docile, preferring to let his tigress of a wife handle the complicated things. She had him weighed and measured weekly and cooed incessantly over his progress. He would waddle over to her, pressing his plush belly into her face. “Look what you’ve made me into,” he’d say as she sighed and nuzzled deep into his softness. “It’s completely your fault I’m so huge.” She would massage his gloriously plump thighs and grin.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
