The Crimson Crown

The three of us lounged in the basin, the steam curling around us like a comforting veil. The tension that had clung to us for weeks seemed to melt away, leaving behind only the soothing embrace of the warm water. Clara floated lazily, her arms resting on the edge of the basin, a dreamy smile on her face.

“This is heaven,” she murmured, her voice light and unguarded. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so clean—or so warm.”

Dorian chuckled softly from where he sat across from her, his head tilted back against the rim. “You’d better enjoy it while you can. I don’t think our schedule will allow for many more moments like this.”

Clara opened one eye, her curiosity piqued. “What’s next, then? For the kingdom, I mean.”

Dorian glanced at me, and I met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between us. We both knew the path ahead would be anything but simple, but it was a path we were finally in a position to forge ourselves.

I sat up slightly, resting my arms on the edge of the basin. “The kingdom needs to be rebuilt,” I said, my voice soft but steady. “There’s a lot to undo—repairs to the castle, aid for the people, and rebuilding trust. And, well... Dorian and I will be coronated. Most likely in the next day or two.”

Clara froze mid-drift, her eyes snapping open as she stared at us. “Coronated?” she repeated, her tone somewhere between awe and disbelief. “As in... officially crowned King and Queen?”

Dorian smirked faintly, nodding. “That’s the plan.”

The dreamy haze on Clara’s face vanished, replaced by wide-eyed realization. Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she quickly scrambled upright in the water, suddenly very aware of her surroundings. “Wait— I’ve been bathing with royalty this whole time?”

The look of sheer mortification on her face sent a burst of laughter bubbling out of me, the sound echoing off the stone walls. I waved a hand dismissively, shaking my head. “Oh, Clara, after everything we’ve been through together, do you really think titles matter right now?”

She blinked at me, her mouth opening and closing as though searching for a proper response. “But... I mean... you’re my Queen,” she stammered, her voice faltering as she sank a little deeper into the water, clearly overwhelmed. “I’ve been bossing you around for weeks!”

“And I needed it,” I replied, still laughing softly. “You’ve been a friend when I had no one. Don’t let a title change that.”

Dorian’s voice joined mine, low and reassuring. “Liliana’s right. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have made it this far. You’ve done more for this kingdom than you realize, Clara.”

Her blush deepened, and she glanced down at the rippling water, clearly flustered. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” I said, leaning over to gently tap her shoulder. “Just keep being you, Clara. That’s all we need.”

She nodded slowly, her embarrassment giving way to a shy but genuine smile. “I’ll do my best,” she said softly.

Dorian and I shared a smile, the moment lightening the heavy weight of what lay ahead. For now, in the warmth of the basin and the quiet camaraderie we’d built, we allowed ourselves to simply be—no titles, no burdens, just three friends sharing a fleeting moment of peace.

Clara’s smile faltered slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face as she sank back into the water. She glanced between Dorian and me, her earlier blush deepening as her fingers idly trailed along the surface of the water.

“I just realized,” she said softly, almost to herself, “I don’t know what’s next for me.”

I tilted my head, studying her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, her gaze fixed on the rippling water. “You’re going to be Queen, Dorian will be King. The kingdom is yours to rebuild, and the people will rally behind you. But me? I’m just... I was just a servant girl. Scrubbing floors, fetching buckets. What place do I have in all of this? Where do I even fit?”

Her words hung in the air, and the vulnerability in her tone made my chest tighten. I exchanged a look with Dorian, his brow furrowing in thought before I turned back to Clara.

“You fit with us,” I said firmly, my voice cutting through her doubts. “Clara, you’ve been by my side through all of this. You’ve supported me and guided me, even when I had no idea what I was doing. You’ve earned your place more than anyone.”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and searching. “What are you saying?”

I smiled, leaning forward slightly. “I’m saying... how would you feel about becoming my attendant?”

Clara blinked, clearly startled by the suggestion. “Personal attendant?” she repeated, her tone disbelieving. “You mean... like, living in the castle? Working with you every day?”

I nodded. “It’s not like you don’t already know my secret,” I added with a teasing grin. “And you’ve been looking after me better than anyone else ever could.”

A slow smile spread across her face, her earlier uncertainty melting away as a laugh bubbled out of her. “From scrubbing floors to changing the Queen’s diapers,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “What a career trajectory.”

Dorian chuckled from his spot across the basin, leaning back with a smirk. “You seem uniquely qualified,” he teased, his voice warm with amusement.

Clara laughed again, the sound light and genuine. “I’d be honored,” she said, her smile softening as she met my gaze. “Thank you, Liliana. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” I replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

Dorian and I exchanged a knowing look, his eyes twinkling with a mix of humor and affection. For the first time in what felt like ages, the three of us were able to relax, the tension of the past weeks lifting just enough to let us glimpse the brighter days ahead.

Dorian cleared his throat, his tone shifting to one of calm authority. “If Clara is going to be your attendant, among others who will eventually join her, I think it’s only fair she knows everything.”

I froze, a sharp pang of dread shooting through me. “Dorian,” I said quickly, my voice tight with warning, “this isn’t the time—”

But he raised a hand, silencing me gently but firmly. “Liliana,” he said, his tone softening, “if she’s going to be by your side, she needs to understand. Especially if we’re to maintain stability in the wake of all this chaos.”

Clara’s eyes darted between us, her curiosity clearly piqued. “Understand what?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. “What are you two talking about?”

I shot Dorian a pleading look, but he pressed on, ignoring my silent protests. “Clara,” he began, his voice calm but deliberate, “there’s a tradition in the Kingdom of the Four Winds that stems from... well, an unfortunate chapter in our history. One that has shaped the expectations placed upon our monarchy, particularly our Queens.”

Clara tilted her head, her confusion deepening. “Tradition? What kind of tradition?”

Dorian sighed, his gaze flicking to me briefly before returning to Clara. “Long ago, there was a Queen who nearly brought the kingdom to its knees. She was... difficult, to put it lightly. Selfish, entitled, and completely uninterested in the responsibilities of ruling. Her behavior was so infantile that it earned her the nickname ‘The Baby Queen.’”

I flushed deeply, my heart hammering in my chest as Dorian continued.

“She nearly destroyed everything,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration at the memory of the story. “It wasn’t until a strong and capable prince—her new husband—stepped in that order was restored. He took her in hand, so to speak, and ensured her behavior aligned with what the kingdom needed. Over time, the tradition evolved, not just as a means of controlling the monarchy but as a symbol of unity and submission to the greater good.”

Clara blinked, her mouth opening slightly as the realization dawned on her. “Wait,” she said slowly, her gaze shifting to me. “You’re saying...?”

“Yes,” Dorian confirmed, his voice steady. “The Queen is treated as a baby—a representation of humility, submission, and the balance of power between the monarchy and the people. It’s a tradition that’s persisted through generations. And while it’s more ceremonial now, especially in the palace, it’s something the loyal staff still expect.”

I buried my face in my hands, my cheeks burning with humiliation. “Dorian,” I hissed, my voice muffled by my hands, “she doesn’t need to know all of this.”

“Yes, she does,” he replied firmly. “Especially now. The kingdom has been through hell, and this isn’t the time to upend tradition. Clara needs to understand what will be expected of you—of us—once the throne is officially reclaimed.”

Clara sat back, her expression a mix of shock and intrigue. “So... when you say ‘treated like a baby,’” she began hesitantly, “you mean...?”

Dorian nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Exactly what it sounds like. Diapers, cribs, being fed, bathed—everything. It’s both symbolic and practical. It’s meant to remind the monarchy that they serve the kingdom, not the other way around.”

I groaned softly, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. Clara, however, seemed to be processing the revelation with surprising calmness.

“Well,” she said after a moment, a faint smile tugging at her lips, “that explains a lot.”

I peeked at her through my fingers, my humiliation momentarily giving way to confusion. “What do you mean?”

Clara shrugged, her smile growing. “Let’s just say... I’ve had my suspicions. And honestly, after everything we’ve been through? It doesn’t change a thing. You’re still my Queen. And if this is what the kingdom needs, then so be it.”

Her words brought a wave of relief I hadn’t realized I needed. Dorian’s hand found mine, his touch reassuring as he leaned closer. “See?” he murmured. “She gets it.”

Clara leaned back in the basin, her brow furrowed. Her gaze was fixed intently on me. A spark of realization was in her eyes, one that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Wait a second,” she said slowly, her voice carrying a note of suspicion. “If all of this—diapers, cribs, being babied—is just part of some... royal tradition, then that means...” Her eyes narrowed. “Liliana, you don’t actually need diapers, do you?”

The heat in my cheeks flared instantly, and I glanced at Dorian, silently pleading for him to step in. But his lips were pressed together, a faint smirk tugging at the corners. He wasn’t going to save me from this.

I took a deep breath, my voice barely above a whisper as I admitted, “No... I don’t.”

Clara sat up straighter, her arms crossing over her chest. “You mean to tell me,” she said, her tone sharp with disbelief, “that all this time, you didn’t actually need diapers? That you’ve just been... pretending?”

“I wasn’t pretending!” I blurted out, my face burning as I waved my hands defensively. “It’s just... when you caught me, I hadn’t had the chance to... to change out of one. And after that, I was too embarrassed to tell you the truth.”

Clara stared at me, her jaw tightening as the weight of my words sank in. “So, let me get this straight,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “You’ve been letting Mistress inspect you, letting me change you, and you’ve just been sitting there, going along with it? While I had to wear them too?!”

I cringed, the shame washing over me like a tidal wave. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, my words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t know what else to do! I thought... I thought it would be easier to just... let things be.”

“Easier for who?” Clara shot back, her voice tinged with frustration. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it’s been? And all this time, you didn’t actually need to wear them?”

My gaze dropped to the water, my shoulders slumping under the weight of her words. “I know,” I said softly, my voice cracking slightly. “I know I should have told you. I’m sorry, Clara. I never meant for things to go this far.”

Clara exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples as she tried to compose herself. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I could have avoided all of this if you’d just been honest.”

“I know,” I said again, my cheeks still burning. “You’re right. I should have said something.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension palpable as Clara stared at me, her frustration warring with the bond we’d built over the past weeks. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly as the fight seemed to drain out of her.

“Well,” she said reluctantly, “what’s done is done. I guess there’s no point dwelling on it now.”

I looked up at her, surprised by her sudden shift in tone. “You’re not mad?”

“Oh, I’m mad,” she said with a faint smirk, her tone softening. “But we’ve got bigger things to deal with, don’t we? Like retaking this kingdom.”

I nodded slowly, my relief tempered by the lingering embarrassment that still clung to me. Dorian reached over and squeezed my hand reassuringly, his silent support grounding me as I met Clara’s gaze.

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For understanding.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Clara said with a small laugh, leaning back into the water. “You’ve still got a lot to make up for, Your Majesty.”

Despite her teasing tone, I could sense the forgiveness beneath her words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax, knowing that, somehow, we would find a way forward together.

The three of us stepped out of the tub, steam curling around us as the cool air of the room nipped at our damp skin. We dried off quickly, the reality of what lay ahead already pulling us back into the weight of the moment. As we returned to the room, Clara’s eyes immediately fell on the large changing table dominating the center of the space. Her brow arched as she stepped closer, her fingers trailing over the neatly arranged supplies beneath it—diapers, powder, wipes, and creams, all meticulously stocked.

“This is... quite the setup,” Clara remarked, her tone somewhere between amused and incredulous.

I hesitated, glancing at Dorian for support, but his smirk told me I was on my own. Clara turned to me, her arms crossed and a playful yet determined glint in her eyes. “Alright, Your Majesty,” she said, motioning toward the table. “Lie down. It’s time to get you ready.”

My cheeks burned as I took a step back. “Clara, come on,” I began, my voice filled with embarrassment. “I think we can skip—”

“Lie down,” Clara interrupted firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

I turned one last pleading look toward Dorian, but he simply leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. He wasn’t going to save me.

Reluctantly, I climbed onto the table and lay back as Clara began gathering the supplies she needed. As I stared at the ceiling, trying to block out the humiliation of the moment, Clara suddenly turned to Dorian with an inquisitive look on her face.

“So,” she began, her voice light but with a pointed edge, “this tradition... does it involve punishing the Queen as one would a child?”

Dorian’s smirk widened, his eyes flicking to me briefly before he answered. “It does,” he said, his tone almost too casual. “Sometimes, a little discipline is necessary to keep things in order.”

I shot him a confused look, but before I could process what he meant, Clara’s hands firmly gripped my ankles. “Wait, what are you—?”

Without warning, she lifted my legs, exposing my bare bottom. “This,” she said with a grin, “is for making me wear diapers when you didn’t have to.”

“Clara, no!” I yelped, wriggling in protest, but it was no use. Her hand came down with a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the room. I gasped, my face flaming with humiliation as Dorian chuckled from his spot by the wall.

“Careful,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement. “You don’t want to make her cry... too much.”

Clara ignored him, delivering a series of firm smacks to my behind. Each one stung, more from the embarrassment than the pain itself, and I squirmed helplessly, my protests falling on deaf ears.

“This,” Clara said, punctuating each word with a smack, “is for every single diaper change I had to endure without needing to!”

“Okay, okay!” I cried, my voice high with indignation. “I’m sorry! Clara, please!”

Finally, she stopped, lowering my legs with a triumphant smile. “Apology accepted,” she said sweetly, reaching for the powder and a fresh diaper as though nothing had happened.

Dorian was laughing outright now, his amusement unabashed as I glared at him from the table. “You could have stopped her,” I muttered, my tone accusing.

“Oh, I could have,” he replied, his grin wide and unrepentant. “But where’s the fun in that?”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands as Clara finished diapering me, the sound of her laughter joining Dorian’s. Despite my humiliation, I couldn’t deny the warmth of their camaraderie, the strange sense of comfort that came from knowing I wasn’t facing any of this alone—even if it did come at the expense of my dignity.