It's smooth sailing until the storm hits

The week that follows is blessedly dull. A fact you appreciate greatly, since it gives you a chance to cuddle with Doe, Renee and your newborn children. The other catgirls are fascinated with the fuzzy little bundles and neither girl ever wants for help. A lot of the more pregnant catgirls rub their tummies eagerly now, though depending on the girl it's a different kind of eagerness. You amuse yourself by doing readings on them as they sleep. Some are ever so excited to meet their children, a few other are keen to push them out so they can move around more easily. Then there are those who are eager for the same attention that Doe and Renee are getting.

Yvonne is among the first group and the last, though she hides it well. Since there are so many mouths to feed it doesn't take long for her to suggest that the newborns take advantage of her bountiful bosom. You take hold of her from behind and stroke her belly as she feeds a baby for the first time. The big amazonian catgirl looks so timid and careful as she lets Renee's babies suckle. Your gentle stroking of her body soon reduces her to a droopy eyed puddle of fur and relaxed muscles. You encourage those motherly feelings whenever her shell begins to crack. An eager and athletic defender for a wife is quite nice, but if you can have all that meshed together with a love of children, perhaps a desire for a large family... why wouldn't you try for it?

Helena runs her feet off helping with your children, so much so that you actually pin her down and tickle her at one point to get her to take a break. She's almost vibrating with desire to meet her own child. Renee takes a while to recover after birthing five of your babies and is happy to lie in the sun for days, just petting and feeding her kittens, every bit of her usual energy drained from her.

Doe is the one you have to keep an eye on. After only a few days of bed rest you find her up and about, her two daughters held to her breasts as she strolls around the hall, chatting and organizing. You shake your head and convince your first catgirl to take a seat, but Doe gives you a long kiss and says that there's far too much to do. Only some time spent massaging her ears slows her down long enough for Yvonne to arrive and keep her there. "How long do we have to wait for sex?" Doe asks, tail flicking behind her. "It's just... I have so much energy right now!" A few more minutes of ear scratches and the heat of Yvonne's body pressed against her is enough to make Doe slip into a catnap. After that Yvonne, Helena and Sandra take turns making sure Doe takes it easy, no matter how much she complains.

In the mean time you and Sandra watch Patrick's progress with Emilie. It's slow but careful, though he does put her on the defensive when it comes to his appearance. After she gives him the hairy eyeball for a few days he slams his knife and spoon on the table and curls up in the corner, whimpering "Don't look at me like they do!" It's quite a show and gets him some sympathy. Six days in and Emilie is starting to look a little torn when he's asleep or when he's out doing work for you. In fact you are starting to see signs that she looks forward to his return. Every night Patrick brings home the bacon, often literally. Being locked up alone, seemingly ignored and forgotten by her tormentor, her walls are starting to crack.

The world outside your home is quiet too. The spring rains have driven most people indoors and created the deep mud that keeps most carts and caravans from their business till late spring. Even slavers, who tend to lighter carts so they can use back roads and crossings no one else would, have been bogged down to the point that you've run out of girls to transform. Only a few contacts in the capital are able to offer up any slaves worth having. You're so used to changing women into catgirls that you even buy a twelve year old orphan and change her - a favor, really, she'll surely have a better life in your care than on the street where she was picked up for picking pockets.

You've always said that the disease affects the old and young more that the adult and healthy as an excuse for the number of nubile girls you've transformed, but after over three hundred catgirls a single child is easy to excuse. She also makes quite a stir, the first catgirl you or any of the women in your mansion have seen who is younger than eighteen or older than a month. Laila, as she's called, gains about a dozen mothers as soon as she's introduced and they nearly rub the grey fur off her body petting her. You told them all a day before that you had someone special under treatment, that you didn't want to say more in case she was too far gone to save.

As is often the case a little bit of the girl's old personality shines through, so your twelve year old catgirl is mischievous, dexterous and fast. She's also attracted to fine clothes, showing more interest than most in long, frilly dresses and flower studded hats. All sorts of clothes that she would have only been able to dream of as one of the city's innumerable urchins.

Another pleasant surprise is when a few scented letters, gilded cards and similar begin arriving. It seems the nobles of the city are starting to hear things. A result of the clergy talking? Perhaps a whisper campaign by Lessia? Regardless, a very welcome development. You answer them carefully - make it too easy and they will grow suspicious. All you need to do is suggest that it's not a great concern for you or outright deny that you're involved and they're drawn like moths to a flame, each convinced that someone is trying to steal a march on them.

In fact you're feeling quite good about yourself and about all you've accomplished when things take an unexpected turn. The wards at the edge of the property fire off - an unexpected visitor. You use one of the enchanted mirrors and scry them. A messenger on horseback, bearing a satchel and a tabard marking him as one of the king's couriers. In the middle distance you can see a carriage and some cavalry approaching as well.

You reach the main entrance just in time to meet the messenger, who bows and hands you a sealed scroll - sealed with the king's seal, but in deep black wax. A sign that someone has sent and sealed the message in his name. A bad omen. You crack the seal and read the message. It indicates that the king is wasting away, struck down by some disease. He kept this to himself and his doctors for some time. Now he has entered a coma and his son wishes to become regent. He is calling on various powerful nobles and mages to come to the palace and to swear their support for him.

What terrible timing! Things were going so well, but the **** of the king could throw all your plans into disarray. Who knows what the prince will want to prove when he takes the throne? The way the letter is written it sounds like the king won't last long and therefore the regency is also going to be short lived. Your plans so far depended on King Caravis, beloved by the peasants, giving your catgirls land in the north and convincing the common man to accept these poor souls into their hearts and villages.