If the Emperor's Wife Never Got Pregnant, It's Common Sense for the Emperor's Son to Take Her as a Concubine
Not much time had passed.
The palace sprawled so vast that a determined tourist could easily turn it into a two-night, three-day expedition, yet an imperial command moved faster than a delivery order from a nation of chronic stomachaches.
My heart hammered with anticipation.
Just what would she look like—this Marty Maman who had twisted my guts with suspense?
"…You summoned me."
She was beautiful, of course.
The instant she appeared, honey practically dripped from her looks. Thick chestnut hair swept up in an elegant coiffure. Eyes pretty enough to have emerald gems set into them, a delicately raised nose, and lips to match. She was clearly young—a beauty with a somewhat girlish air, as befit the seventy-fourth wife. Well, it stood to reason that marriage partners would be gorgeous.
He only married when the genetics got him hard, after all.
Otto I had swollen the ranks of his wives to absurd numbers, yet not a single one who failed his exacting standards ever got pinned by the imperial cock. That was simply the life of the free-spirited Otto I, whose entire purpose had been to molest every race in the fantasy world.
"…"
"…"
"…Uh, Marty Maman—no."
I cleared my throat, then tried again.
"So… Mother from a different bed, what exactly has you so furious?"
"Me? How dare you."
Marty snorted.
"As if anyone could dare show anger before His Majesty the Emperor, who could knock even a soaring griffon out of the sky. It must be your imagination."
No, your eyebrows are fucking furious.
Anyone could see she was angry. Anyone could see she was properly pissed. A beauty fuming with rage had its own appeal, sure, but starting off with her mood already soured for reasons I didn't understand left me nothing but bewildered.
"…"
"…"
"…Gillin, something's clearly off. Relay it for me, would you?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
After rolling the words off her tongue with perfect diction, Gillin stepped in front of me. She planted herself squarely before the throne, blocking it with confident authority, and delivered my rightful prerogative to Marty as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Marty von Heim, seventy-fourth wife of the previous generation!
As you failed to bear a child of the late Otto von Heim, you possess the rightful claim to enter the household of the current Emperor, Otto von Heim II, as his concubine. His Majesty has consented to this right. Do you accept?"
Hearing Gillin recite that dizzying phrase about inheriting Father's wife somehow made the whole thing sound impressively official. I watched with a broad grin, thinking that cleaning up after an emperor really wasn't a job just anyone could handle—
"……………I refuse."
"!"
"What?!"
This bitch dared refuse the value-preserving concubine sex that came with inheriting the item?!
Marty answered with truly brazen composure. The imperial message had at least calmed her angry eyebrows a little, but her tone remained thoroughly unimpressed.
"I shall ask once more. Are you truly abandoning this right?"
"Yes. I gladly renounce it."
"I ask a third time. You understand that after the triple confirmation, you forfeit any authority to reverse your decision?"
"…Yes. Even so, I refu—"
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing in front of me?!"
I couldn't stand the farce any longer and surged to my feet. I rose with magnificent flair—only for my cock to wilt somewhat under the unexpected turn of events.
I raised my voice while deliberately dropping its pitch, matching a gravelly, imposing tone befitting an emperor.
"Marty von Heim!
I may be a fledgling emperor who has only just ascended the throne, but do you already presume to scold me to my face simply because you were a wife of the previous generation?!"
"…! Th-that's not—"
"Not what?!"
I descended from the high throne in person. Marty flinched and immediately prostrated herself on the carpet, while the Kingsguard sealed the entrance so that not a soul could enter the hall. The moment I stepped forward, Gillin simply clasped her hands behind her back and withdrew—a classic talent for a chief minister, knowing exactly when to strike and when to vanish, just as a dedicated aide should.
"Answer me. What is the reason for your refusal?"
"…"
"If you fail to speak before me, or if your reason is not legitimate, I will throw you in a dungeon. I cannot even guarantee the lives of your family, depending on your answer."
"Th-that's…!"
Collective punishment. It made me look like a tyrant who put Nero to shame, but the method worked remarkably well. That shallow technique of yanking hard and then subtly easing off was especially effective right after donning the imperial crown.
Only then did Marty bow her head even lower, as if admitting the mistake born of her overflowing resentment. The angry brows smoothed out; she chewed her lip, eyes welling as she begged for sympathy.
"…Then, if I speak the truth of my heart honestly… will you show me mercy?"
"If I hear it and the reason proves valid."
"…If you truly mean that, then out of the affection and mercy still remaining for the previous generation, please grant me one small request."
"What request?"
I had no real intention of becoming a full-blown tyrant. Honestly, I was curious why she had been so furious the moment she walked in, and why she had refused me to my face even knowing she would have to weather the emperor's wrath. There had to be some circumstance.
After tossing out the words, Marty deliberated. Her body remained tightly curled in a plea for forgiveness of her rudeness, yet her sharp eyes refused to yield as she looked up at me fully and declared:
"If Your Majesty is truly determined to take this lowly body as your concubine… then tonight… please come to my bedchamber."
"To your bedchamber… you say?"
"Yes. If at all possible, please come to my chambers. At that time, I shall reveal every one of my secrets."
She was inviting me to her bedchamber before I had even officially made the previous emperor's wife my concubine? And she would tell me everything?
Throb♥
"Ahem… Very well. The moment night falls, I shall come find you!"
"I thank Your Majesty the Great Emperor for your mercy.
And I thank you for forgiving the rudeness I dared commit."
Marty had entered with brazen confidence, yet she withdrew observing proper imperial etiquette. She retreated several steps backward as if to express her guilt, then spun around and walked out.
Attire within the palace of this world was extremely varied, but Marty wore the classic dress of a medieval noblewoman. The front of her bodice formed a pretty U-shaped neckline that revealed her chest, while the back of the medieval-style gown clung tightly to accentuate her generous hips. Metal ornaments signifying a noble lady adorned her, along with various decorations and a pretty gold ornamental sash around her waist—just like Valeria Maman's.
I tracked that retreating figure. Until she passed the Kingsguard and disappeared into the distance, I stared blankly, and only one thought was coded into my brain.
Hoo… No matter what happens, tonight I absolutely have to fuck Maman in a proper breeding session.
I had decided. I would vent the grudge of failing to claim Valeria Maman on this one instead. No matter what, I would make Marty Maman my concubine.
Knock, knock, knock.
I rapped precisely three times on the door. As if she had been waiting, it opened almost at once.
"You have come."
Marty's promised bedchamber. I had arrived, yet I could not simply walk straight inside.
"Pardon the intrusion, my lady."
The Kingsguard flanking me briefly surveyed the interior. After a cursory search of the chamber and a signal that nothing was amiss, only then did I enter.
Searching a noblewoman's room was a grave discourtesy. Factoring in that she was a queen of the previous generation made it an enormous breach of etiquette. Still, given the friction earlier that day, a little caution was only natural.
"Forgive the discourtesy. The Kingsguard claim that if they skip it, they feel like they've got hemorrhoids on their asses."
"I-I understand. My attitude in the hall was excessive by anyone's measure."
"Standing and talking is uncomfortable. May I sit?"
"Please, sit on the bed at once!
And… since you are His Majesty, I would be grateful if you spoke more casually."
"…Very well."
Once inside the bedchamber, her demeanor was completely different from what I had seen that afternoon. Earlier she had been a head-butting goat in a rage; alone with me now, she was a perfectly gentle lamb.
Maybe I should… stay a little wary.
That very shift sent a chill down my spine. Half-expecting a poisoning attempt born of her daytime fury, I left the casual fruit in front of me untouched. This world had been modeled after CK, after all. In CK, conspiracies were an everyday occurrence whenever you got bored.
We sat side by side. And since we were finally alone, I saw no reason to drag things out.
"Then speak. Why did you refuse the request this afternoon, and why did you refuse so repeatedly that you embarrassed me?"
"…First, I apologize once again.
It was simply that a deep whisper in my heart told me it was not right."
"Mm… Well, it would feel awkward since you were Father's wife. Still—"
"Ah, no!
That is not what I meant… It has nothing whatsoever to do with guilt toward the previous generation or any awkwardness about the relationship."
"?
Then do you mean I am not to your liking?"
"Ah, no…!"
Surely not.
When I looked this good? When my cock was so goddamn huge it looked like a long sausage cut only halfway? Criticizing the Heim family's looks was close to absurdity. One glance in a mirror proved the genetic refinement of House Heim was perfect. Nearly ninety percent of the family were handsome men and beautiful women, and their fertility was so excellent that those superior genes spread at an incredible rate.
Moreover, this body of Otto II—who had inherited the name Otto intact—was the ultimate product of genetic optimization. He had been born with every good trait attached, and on top of that he had absorbed the slow-aging one-eighth elf blood of Valeria along with racial traits the Heim line had never possessed. That was why they had forced the heir's seat onto him. He had not become the chosen emperor and legitimate son among so many wives and children for nothing.
"…"
"…"
"Ah…!"
So I closed the distance. Simply locking eyes with her, I pressed my body against the woman who had lost her husband, using only mood and momentum. Marty flinched her hips and tried to pull away. Yet the exchange of gazes. The trembling breaths. The air of a single shared space, inhaled and exhaled together.
"Ah, aah…♥"
Above all, she could not overcome my face. In the end she met my lips.
The previous emperor's wife, the moment she found herself alone face-to-face with his son, surrendered her lips at once.
"Mmm, nn… ah…♥"
She chased my face blankly. At the light kiss she demurely pressed her legs together, and in an instant she flushed scarlet into full female mode.
What, that easy?
She had melted with no trouble at all. The very moment I became certain everything was proceeding smoothly—
Whap!
"Ugh?!"
Marty jerked away in a panic. After clinging to my lips for more than five seconds, she shoved my shoulder and tumbled backward.
Ugh… seriously.
Furious one moment, gentle lamb the next, then head-butting goat again. The speed of her flip-flops rivaled Schumacher. I glared resentfully, wondering why she was doing this when the mood had been going so well—and Marty turned bright red.
"…Um?"
"Ah, aaaaaah…!"
No other expression fit. Her entire body heated up like the glowing iron of a steam locomotive; she flapped her hands as if she were dying of heat and poured out a frantic stream of words.
"Y-Your Majesty! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I can't help—it's just that…!"
"Calm down. What exactly is the problem?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! The thing is, if I'm truly honest…!"
Marty went haywire. That haughty air vanished completely; she behaved like a child, unable to control her own emotions. I could not tell whether she was about to cry, rage, or celebrate. Only after her eyes grew faintly teary and her face turned so embarrassed she looked ready to bolt did she finally force out the difficult confession.
"I shall confess it here and now. I am without question a wife of the previous generation, but that… um, that…"
Gulp…!
"I am still a virgin!"
"……What?"
"I-I am confessing this only to Your Majesty.
I… I am… still a virgin! I had a husband, yet I have never once known a man… a virgin who has already turned twenty-four…"
"……………………………What?"
Marty's true feelings laid bare. The reason she had so stubbornly refused to become my concubine, and the reason she had gone haywire after our lips met.
Because the emperor's wife was a virgin.
Because she was a virgin whose packaging had never even been opened.
…
…
Holy shit, is that even possible?