phrase of season

1. (of fruit, vegetable, or other food) grown or available at the time of year in question.

"Buy fruit and vegetables that are in season."

2. (of a female mammal) ready to mate.

"This system of communication works very well, especially when a female is in season."

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

The amount of time that Gigi could spend relaxing in the serenity of the library was significantly reduced as she was required to attend festivals and cut ribbons daily. So it was such a relief to have only Cal invited to an all-gentlemen event, so she could spend a whole day by herself. To be able to return to the bookshelves was delightful.

Lately, she had found a fascinating subject amongst her reading materials, one which explored the most intimate details within a relationship. They were banned from being portrayed in any Prajan books, being considered indelicate—aside from the biological standpoint—but the norms within Angletonia had always been more liberating. Lucky for her, because she found it to be delightfully thought-provoking.

"Gigi...? Gigi, are you there?" Junior called out from the other side of the shelf before being shooed by her handmaiden. She felt guilty for having to hide from Junior when the boy had missed their time together as much as she did, but she couldn't go and see him now.

She was fantasizing about his father.

Looking back at the passage, Gigi's cheeks flushed as her heart picked up pace. She was transported to a lucid daydream, swapping the couple inside the novella with that of her husband and herself.

'—In an instant, the Emperor had Gigi trapped between his body and the wall.

"Gi... How could you not know what I want?" Cal asked as he pressed his body against hers.

"What are you talking about, Sire?" she asked innocently.

He gently took her hand and put it on his arousal. It was so stiff and solid and she had never felt anything like it before that very moment. "This..." Cal whispered breathlessly. "I want you..."

"Sire..." She let out a heart sighed, elated to find that he had wanted it as much as she did.

Cal aggressively ripped her dress and rammed his powerful sceptre of dominion into the depth of her womanhood. Every bit of him was hard and strong, gliding his fingers down her soft fleshy mounds, feeling the moistening of her—'

"Your Majesty?"

"...Yes, Sire?" Gigi sighed dreamily, engrossed in her fantasy before blinking herself back to reality, where Gita Shinta was standing before her, appearing concerned. "Uh, what? Didn't I tell you to tell Junior that I am occupied?"

"It is not His Highness..." she answered nervously. "You have guests."

"But I've made no appointments today."

"The three ladies insisted. They said you'd invited them beforehand."

"...Three ladies?"

As she arrived in the drawing-room, she was greeted by none other than three young ladies she had met at the regatta; Zeila, Josefina and Evelyn. Whilst she remembered inviting them to come over, she hadn't expected them to take it seriously, or that they'd come by so quickly. As seen in her mother's court, even the members of the social elite could be a little demanding to the royal family.

"So, I guess you're here to see my wardrobe?" Gigi asked, managing to give them a genuine smile.

"I hope you've not forgotten," Evelyn grinned. "I'm dying to see some of the beautiful pieces that your handmaidens have so skillfully crafted for you."

"Of course I haven't." She turned to Gita Shinta. "Please bring me the new summer clothes that you've made for me."

The moment they came out with her summer collections, the three young ladies got impossibly exhilarated. They couldn't stop themselves from touching and feeling the materials, even trying on the accessories. It felt a little bit odd for Gigi, for she'd never seen anyone so interested in her choice of style, even in Praja.

"What a beautiful scarf!" Evelyn lifted Gigi's silken shawl.

"It is an all-around silk wrap. It is quite popular in Praja this season."

"How do we wear them?"

"Like this." Taking one of the shawls, she then put it around herself. "You could wear it as a shawl, a top, or even a simple dress. It could be anything you want."

"I want one!" Joséfina gasped.

"You can have it if you want. I haven't worn any of these." Gigi offered, hoping that after giving them what they wanted, she'd be left alone to dwell on her fantasies.

"Oh, we cannot just take your clothes, no matter how exquisite they are," Zeila refused, still running her polished fingernails over a pair of hand-painted mule shoes.

"Oh, please. I—I'll make some more," she smiled awkwardly. "Take it as a gift."

After the three left the palace, Gigi immediately regretted her decision. She might have succeeded in Prajan fashion, but she had added to the workloads of her handmaidens. Offering to pay them extra to compensate for their labour, she felt even worse when they refused her offers.

"You shouldn't feel guilty for asking us to sew you dresses, Your Majesty," Gita Citra said as she dried her hair with a towel before bed. "It's our duty."

"For me, perhaps, but not for the other ladies," Gigi said.

"But the Emperor asked you to make friends, didn't he?" said Gita Dian. "If this helps you to make friends then it is a part of the job."

"And we're all proud to show them the beauty of Prajan textiles," added Gita Dewi.

"Girls," Gigi sighed, feeling touched by their kindness. "What would I do without you?"

***

Unbeknownst to Gigi, her personal wardrobe pieces would later become an overnight sensation, having bestowed them to the trio. Fueled by a desire to be seen as the most fashion-savvy, they never failed to flaunt it at every ball and garden party.

As they attended a polo match the following week, most women in the venue could be spotted wearing flat shoes.

Gigi goggled at her surroundings. Her wish was to promote Prajan fashion, but she never thought that society would strive to mirror every detail of her clothing style. "Sire, I never intended for this to happen!" she said in embarrassment.

"Obviously," Cal held his fist to his mouth, hiding his grin.

Her sudden surge of popularity came at the expense of her privacy. She couldn't go anywhere without having some women tailing her. They even came to the palace to see her—upsetting Junior—trying to get on her good side. Her husband, on the other hand, thought it was hilarious. He fought a snicker every time they passed by a woman who wore flats.

Truth be told, she didn't hate it entirely. Her mother used to say that there was no such thing as bad press, and a queen could always use it to her advantage.

As demands for Prajan garments soared, she encouraged Prajan dressmakers and artisans to invest their products in the Angletonian market, where the distributors had become more than eager. She was right, as in a matter of weeks more and more high-end boutiques were launching their collection of Prajan-inspired fashion.

Enlightening her husband about the system, she noticed how he was just staring at her with a big silly grin instead of listening to her. "You don't seem to be very interested in this topic." Frowning, she put the patterned shoes she had made for him back inside the box. "Sire?"

"You are amazing, you know that? You overwhelm me." He whispered in such a deep, breathy voice, making her legs go weak. She hated how he always had this effect on her.

"Well." Taking a deep breath, she mustered every bit of sassiness in her body. "Took you long enough to realize."

Nailed it!

Cal chuckled, squeezing her hand. "If only I got half your influence over their husbands in the parliament."

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.