A year had passed since Cesinare took possession

of the harem, and it had dwindled

to two hundred and twenty-six,

including the royal daughters Juheimi and Cesinia,

plus twelve girls who once gave birth

to Guyesp’s sons and daughters,

now taken from them.

Lavina was now sixteen, having spent

two years in the harem

under two different masters

and been separated from her love.

Fourteen girls pregnant by Cesinare

had been taken to the nursery,

including Isabel, young wife to Guyesp,

now pregnant by his brother.

Around that time, Cesinare began to find

that his own daughters seemed no longer new,

no longer fresh in their tender affections.

When his beloved young Cesinia conceived,

he knew he needed fresh blood, fresh kink.

And so he arranged a family dinner:

there, into the sumptuous grand dinging hall

of the royal palace came Sevanna,

the king’s older sister, and her husband,

their two daughters and three sons;

there, under the vaulted ceiling adorned with gold

came Maldinni, the king’s younger sister,

her husband, their two sons and three daughters;

there, around that long marble table, sat

Anna, the king’s youngest sibling,

now but fifteen, who had lost her father

at the tender age of thirteen.

Dinner was served, all seven courses of it,

and with their guts filled with the most lavish meats and wine,

King Cesinare leaned forward

and knocked over a candle quite deliberately.

As the tablecloth flared, Cesinare stood and walked away

while guards stormed the room and the drunken family

sat agape, Maldinni’s husband drunken dousing the fire

with his and his neighbors’ wine.

The men were put to death by sword,

all two husbands and five sons of them,

and the women – all three sisters

and five daughters – were thrown into the harem,

where they discovered the king’s secret

and his living daughters

(though only the eldest remained there)

and where they were quite naturally beaten

with great regularity until, one by one,

they surrendered to their powerlessness

and to their brother’s, or their uncle’s,

somewhat demanding advances.

Thus was the harem brought

back up to two hundred and thirty-three –

though not for long.  By the time

all three sisters and their five daughters

had submitted, six more girls had gotten pregnant,

bringing the harem down to two hundred and twenty-seven

and the nursery up to twenty-one, including Cesinia.

When Cesinare was quite convinced all eight new harlots

would submit to any and all orders,

he had the youngest, Cesinare’s beloved Anna,

slaughter Sevanna, the king’s older sister,

who was quite too old to be anything more than a novelty

worth only a few fucks by Cesinare to say he’d done it,

and had her three daughters

slaughter Maldinni, also too old.

The first murder was done by sword

in the manner of Juhei, by impalement through the vagina

while all watched; the second

with tiny knives

so that it took all Maldinni’s weeping daughters

some time to slay their mother.

Both were performed in the harem garden.

With his family slaughtered and brought to heel,

Cesinare mixed and matched his options.

His youngest sister Anna became his favorite,

at times accompanied by his own daughter Cesinia,

pulled from the nursery, or his older daughter Juheimi,

or one of his five nieces, or one of the hundreds of others,

sometimes even poor Lavina.

Inside the harem, all lamented

the bygone days of Guyesp.

Some, like Lavina, lamented lovers gone to the nursery;

others, like Juheimi, lamented family and loved ones.

All lamented the blood and sorrow that had spilled

upon their once care-free life of ease

when Guyesp had fucked them kinder.

Outside the harem, the death by fire

of the entire royal family, save the king,

had caused no less lament:

in the king’s first year of reign,

the accidental deaths had been announced

of his brother, his wife, eldest daughter, only son,

last remaining child, and – all at once –

his three sisters and their five children.

Even in the capital city of Triemte,

one could hear open grieving

for the days of King Borheya;

it was said by many that some curse

lay upon the monarchy and thus the land.

The king was mad, his guards reported.

Too many had been involved with the slaughter

of his sisters’ husbands and their sons:

such rumors made their way throughout Triemte,

slowly becoming more and more accepted

and acceptable to say, even on the streets.

Many speculated that Cesinare had not only killed

his own children, even his brother Guyesp and his wife,

but, since the dates had been so close,

that he had also killed his own father, the kind.

And so the people too began to say “Cesinare’s mad!”

Guyesp’s transgression had been all but forgotten

and the countryside bore its losses

in town after town, cursing the crown

as it always had, albeit once in softer tones.

But Cesinare would not be dethroned

by rumors, of his own or his brother’s crimes.

His real problem was administration,

with his family gone

and his own guards calling him mad.

The baron Anarolyni, who had long lay in wait,

now saw his chance to pounce,

to stir up the rumors and spread the notion

that he ought to follow the impious king.

With all this dissent brewing and spreading,

Cesinare became concerned that his brother’s harem

would age, and resolved to replenish the harem’s rooms

back up to their capacity of two hundred and forty.

The harem had consumed him:

indulging himself with his many girls

and this mad plan to replenish them

had become the once-good king’s full-time job.

At length, it cost him the support of his army:

as Cesinare was planning a journey into the angry countryside

to capture fifteen of the most beautiful girls,

so as to refill his harem, he’d been careless

and let the army commanders, curious

about their king’s unexplained motivations,

learn of the harem in their investigations.

“The king is mad!” they said

and went to Anarolyni,

ensuring the baron the military’s support.

And so, when Cesinare had possessed the harem

for not yet a year and a half,

the military seized the royal palaces.

Some soldiers found Cesinare

in bed at mid-day with one of the girls,

stolen over two years before from the countryside.

Anarolyni proclaimed himself king and promised

a restoration of good moral principles:

he had Cesinare tried for the murder of his family,

including his father, King Borheya.

The judge found Cesinare guilty,

and proclaimed (as Anarolyni had dictated)

that Cesinare had never legally been the king

because he had achieved the crown through treachery.

Not a man could be found

who mourned the son of Borheya

when he was sentenced to die

in Triemte’s largest public square.

Cesinare, in prison without his girls, truly repented:

he prayed each day on his knees before his lord God.

He blamed the harem of his brother Guyesp,

which had so corrupted him at first sight

that he had slain his only brother on the spot.

He cried to think of it, of what he’d had done to his cousins.

And yet, even still, he missed his seraglio –

not just the sex, but also out of true concern,

not knowing what had become

of those many sweet girls

who’d been so good to him.

He wondered

and cried

and repented.

And then, when he had been deposed

of all his kingly power for some three months,

the guards arrived

and drew him to the large square

in the center of Triemte.

A large crowd had gathered to see slain

the man who had corrupted their kingdom,

killed their rightful king and all his family.

Cesinare was not permitted to speak

and was executed by having his head

sliced from his body.

The executioner did well, and with one slice

sent the son of Borheya’s head rolling

along the dirty stone.

It was a quick death, better even

than those he gave his sisters

and their sons.

The crowd cheered, and who can say,

as his eyes blinked those last disembodied blinks,

if what he saw possessed this fallen, godly man

as much as had the harem that afternoon

on the balcony, with dead Guyesp.

King Anarolyni was not in attendance.

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