“Seduce him”, Empress Indira told a wife, as she looked through clothes needed to seduce her own husband.
“What, my Queen?” The woman gasped in disbelief, as she blushed. “I cannot do that!” She exclaimed.
“And why not? Is he not your husband?”, Indira queried.
“Well yes, but…that is not proper!”
Indira arched her brow, “Not proper? Says who?”
When the woman kept stammering, trying to find a proper answer — Indira presumed, as she set aside a set tinkling breast net made of jewels. Finding it hard ignoring the ignorance of the young wife, she faced her.
“Look. If you don’t move fast someone who has no problem seducing your husband will get him. And not because he’s willing, but because his own wife is unwilling to love him, as he needs to be loved.”
She raised her freshly painted hand to silence the blustering wife.
“You came here seeking for the counsel of your queen, did you not?”
“Aye, your highness.” She replied a bit timidly.
“Now go to the market. Purchase the most scandalous dancer’s attire you can find in your husband’s favourite colours.”
Indira turned back to her chest of treasures and pulled out a glass-like anklet, “Prepare and serve him his favourite meals in the attires.”
Indira glanced up from admiring the anklet that had been part of her wedding gift from her husband, the king. “Surely, you can afford such luxury considering all you say your husband has provided?
“Yes, my lady”
“Ah. Before all that, have your maids prepare you as a girl about to wed.”
“If you really appreciate the love you say your husband has shown you, this should not be a problem. Can you dance?”
“Yes, my Queen.”
“Then do just that. Serve him yourself and dance for your husband in those attires for one week — starting today.”
She looked at the anxious looking wife and smiled in understanding empathy. “Just put your soul, spirit and body into it. Now off with you. Your assignment begins now.”
“Long live the Queen, beloved of the King.” She said in obeisance and Indira smiled fondly when she said “beloved of the King“.
She was indeed loved.
And she intended to reciprocate not just with words but with her actions.
Indira looked up and saw her lovely sister in law with some maids carrying covered trays behind.
“Well Tickles.” Indira smiled in warm welcome.
“Tickles” was the nickname she gave her sister in law. Because her laughter always sounded like someone was tickling her.
“What brings you to this side of town?” Indira teased referring to the sprawling palace as a “town”
Tickles giggled. “An errand of love and the palace is not that big.”
“My brother, the king has put together a celebration in your honour tomorrow evening.” Tickles gushed.
Indira was touched. “He need not do that. I am humbled by the honour he bestows me.” She whispered.
“He also sends you these”, she signalled to maids.
They came forward, bent before Indira and uncovered the trays at once with fanfare.
Indira gasped. And so did her people that came to her new home with her.
It’s because the trays contained the clothes, jewels and sandals made in colours and designs of a female monarch from her father’s empire.
He must have picked up the idea from how her mother dressed.
But, it was unique in how Indira liked to dress herself. It was like he composed a description of her in the details.
“Indira? Why are you crying? Don’t you like them? My brother says it can be re-designed as you wish—-“
“Nay Tickles. I love everything here. Tell your brother I thank him. From the depth of my heart” Indira sniffled and smiled.
“A warrior queen crying.” Tickles shook her head in mock disbelief, “Never thought I will see that day.” She teased.
Indira gave a watery laugh, “Blame it on your brother.”
“As for thanking my brother. You will have to do that yourself. I’m done running errands between you two.” Princess Tickles said cheerily on her way out, as the maids bowed again to Indira before hurrying after the Emperor’s sister.
Indira touched the attire reverently. So beautiful… She thought as her cousin said the same out loud.
All Indira could do was nod in agreement. Her eyes fell on a dazzling brown gem pendant.
She squeezed and it clicked open. What she saw in it brought a huge smile to her face.
In her mother tongue etched in platinum:
…to many sentimental celebrations in the flying future, my Indira. Yours alone, •Sergei•