Go with the Plan

You carry your bride hurriedly, excitedly yet carefully in your arms. Even with her situated in your arms, you manage to open the door to your marital room. Renard and Lucilla spared no expense getting this room luxurious and elegant for your wedding night, your first night as man and wife. You close the door with your foot.

"Let me down please," she requests quietly. You kiss lovingly and held each other in your arms.

Soon she pushes your head away a bit, breaking the kiss and then turns it to the side. There you see Dorothye who has been sitting patiently waiting for you. Camilla had instructed her to discreetly leave when you were saying your 'I do's' and to come here. Well that certainly explains why you didn't see her during the celebrations after the ceremony.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" There is a somberness to Camilla's question combined with a hint of eagerness to know your response. But you aren't sure if you should answer her. "It's okay. You can speak your mind. Don't still your tongue."

"She's stunning tonight." You breathe out.

"I would hope so. I had her look her best for the wedding for what is to come." She lets go of your head and walks over to her. She takes the other girl in a genial embrace, "You are my sister in all but blood, Dorothye." Camilla breaks the hug. "Camilla..." Dorothye trails off a little aghast at her mistress's admission. "You're my sister too." Dorothye had felt that way about Camilla too.

"Give my husband his child and heir, sister." Camilla then takes Dorothye's hand in her own. Mirroring what Dorothye did when you told them you agreed to marry Camilla, Camilla guides Dorothye over to you and places Dorothye's hand onto yours. She hints wordlessly to you both to intertwine your fingers together. "Husband, please be gentle with my sister." She says after you and Dorothye firmly hold each other's hand.

"Dorothye," a tear drops from her eye, "this is your night. As the mother of his heir and other children, it is only right that between you and me, you deserve to be with him first. Please..." she pauses because of a sob, "please make love to him." Camilla turns to you, "Make love to her too." Then she addresses you both, "Make love to each other. Not just fuck. Make love. I want your child to be conceived from love, not duty. Do you understand?" You both nod.

Without letting go of Dorothye's hand, you kiss Camilla on her forehead. "You don't have to stay, you know." You say with compassion for your wife.

"No," she steels herself. "where else would I go? It will seem strange or even rouse suspicion if I am seen outside of this room without you. No, I want to be here. Just pretend I am not even here."

By now Dorothye was crying. "Are you sure, Camilla? I don't want to put you through this."

"Tis all right. I want to see it. I'd at least know what to expect when it is my turn." Camilla tries to laugh. "Now please," she whispers and pleads, "consummate my marriage in my stead. Conceive his child for me, my sister." Camilla turns around and sits on the same chair Dorothye sat on prior. "Remember, I'm not here."