The birth went smoothly for Janessa. At this point, she practically felt used to the whole thing. Thinking about that, Janessa had to laugh. If someone had told her back when she was still a prince that she’d become a busty concubine, and mother to more than a dozen children, she would have called them crazy. Fate truly did work in mysterious ways.
Antyny briefly came by to check on Janessa, but when he learned that she had seemingly once again given birth to only daughters, he rapidly lost interest. To a man like Antyny, a concubine who could only give him daughters was of little interest. Besides, he thought to himself, in a way Janessa had already given him the sons he’d wanted. True, he’d had to use a bit of magic to get what he wanted, but Princes Arias, Liiran, Kellan, Gian, Lysandre, Tassian and Ranulf should keep the line of succession more than secure.
Months went by, and soon it was time to disperse Janessa’s “daughters” across the country to keep them safe. She gave them temporary female names, knowing that when they became eighteen their true personalities would re-emerge and they would transform into their male selves. At the same time, their “brothers”, Antyny’s sons, would transform into their true female selves, becoming seven beautiful young women.
Loyalist nursemaids were carefully snuggled in one at a time, and each departed with a daughter. Jaswyn and Mirya, Ellsa and Cofia, Isira, Valery, and Janna were scattered across the country into secretly loyalist families, to raise them in safety. Antyny hardly noticed they were gone; his attention was entirely focused on the war.
And the war dragged on, year after year after year. Antyny couldn’t find a way to crush the rebels; the rebels didn’t have the strength to topple Antyny. For all intents and purposes, the kingdom had been divided in two. Janessa and her former harem sisters remained as beautiful and youthful looking as ever; those who had been transformed by magic, or had magical bloodlines, aged twice as slowly as normal once they reached adulthood. Borya, Francesca, Halla and Anna had all given Antyny multiple children of their own, but Janessa’s seven sons were, by far, those with the most status.
The eighteenth year was rapidly approaching as time dragged on, and the country grew tired of war. One more decisive battle might very well decide the fate of the country. Both sides prepared to muster the last of their strength for the coming clash.