Of Pride and Power - 1. Chapter 1-Always Say Less Than Necessary

Death wasn’t as painful or torturous as my parents claimed for sinners like me. To be fair, I didn’t mind the idea of being stuck in a place where I’d be getting fucked all day or fucking someone all day as I felt it was sort of like Homer Simpson’s punishment of being forced to eat all the world’s donuts. Jack and I had already done various sex stuff, and neither of us hated it on either end. We were the rare kind of versatile, able to switch between top and bottom roles based on our needs for the moment. While anal might get boring, it was pleasurable. Besides, we knew the true origins of the sodomy punishment in hell from various books.

In medieval Europe, the stories of hell were spread amongst Christians to feel shame and fear for certain acts. The punishment would be the repetitive actions of their sins in life and they would be denied entrance into heaven. In terms of why certain forms of sex were targeted, anal and oral sex was unproductive to creating children. European nobles wanted more peasants to work their fields and estates, increasing their wealth. As more workers meant more money for other things, it would directly affect churches that essentially double taxes these people. Noble landowners and Christian elites created these fantasy hell stories to scare folks into having reproductive sex to make more babies and do as they were told, like a holy pyramid scheme. That’s religion.

Any modern person with half a brain should call bullshit on that medieval crap. It essentially keeps these elites in society fed and paid for doing nothing, except offering some vague promises and salvation through the spoken word and song. Sadly, that mindset is still around, especially among those so-called anti-government and anti-tax people who claim to defend freedom and liberty. Then, they faithfully pay part of their weekly wages to people who make rules for them and force them to have more kids for future revenue streams. They call everyone sheep, but they are the biggest flock in the world based on their actions. They want to tell others to defund government agencies, why don’t they ask their panhandling leaders to defund their religions? Use that money to help others in their communities directly and invest in actual things that can improve human life rather than an empty promise of charitable use or an afterlife that no one can prove.

Thus, what I felt after I died was completely expected with the foreknowledge of the bullshit people told themselves for centuries. Essentially, death is nothing. The state of death was just empty like you’re free-floating in water without sight, sound, or sensation. I didn’t even really consider anything when I was dead as there was no thought or pain, I was just there and not there. It only lasted a few moments for me; though it could have been a million years passing by. Then, some familiar sensations returned throughout my body.

When I regained full consciousness, my first thought was about my body. I knew the truck hit me, so I was worried about losing motor functions. I did not want to live my life as a vegetable. Reflexively, I wiggled my fingers and toes, which seemed to work. That was a good sign, so I flicked my eyes open.

I was lying in a bed with four posts and bed curtains, like those old-fashioned ones you see on shows like Downton Abbey, which my aunt binged on Netflix whenever I visited her during the summer. The room wasn’t empty as several people were running around at a frantic pace. They were dressed in torn cotton shirts and trousers that had several patches and holes near the seams. Most of them appear to be teenage boys a few years younger than me. A few older women were directing them, they appeared to be dressed in better-looking wool dresses with bonnets covering their head. Based on the way these people dressed, I had a reasonable guess that I wasn’t in the modern world anymore.

I could hear them speak, but it wasn’t exactly the English that I was used to.

One of the women, noticing my glances, spoke, “It is by providence that the young lord hath awakened. We might not but seek Queen Dowager Parr, ‘I decree.”

I was confused and kind of worried that I had ended up in a medieval fantasy world. However, I did not speak to anyone, instead, I observed their actions and listened. It was the best thing I could do to figure out my situation. For instance, based on the speech, I am in the care of some queen dowager, thus, I don’t have to worry about scrounging around for food and shelter at least.

As the other people in the room continued to speak, their language began to sound less weird and closer to modern American English. I am assuming that there’s a mental, or magical, reason behind my sudden understanding of their language. I still wouldn’t respond to them yet, but I continued gathering a lot of information, like people’s names and events. Turned out, I’ve been in bed for five days due to some kind of fever. My guardian the queen dowager Catherine Parr was worried about me, along with her husband, Thomas. I heard several unflattering mumbles from a few of the boys, suggesting that Thomas was the reason why I had taken ill. They had cleaned my sheets and torn clothes from a previous late-night tryst he had with me. The casual description of a sexual assault made me very nervous about my situation.

Using my hand, I explored my body and found most of the things I am used to were there, including my dick, balls, and round chest. There were fewer hairs around my dick and ass cheek, along with their soft texture, making me think I was probably a little younger than I was. I also found a second orifice on my body right between my ass and balls, which was shocking.

While the idea of having a vagina was something I had considered with Jack, the idea of hormone therapy and vaginal surgery seemed theoretical, just like getting plastic surgery to increase my dick size and reduce my breast size. Adoption in one of the friendlier states was just as good as me carrying around twenty extra pounds for nine months, but both Jack and I did agree to wanting kids, eventually. Having a child to share the world with was worth exploring for the sake of growth.

However, this body change made me consider that the rules of this reality may be different than the ones I’m used to. Could I get pregnant in this reality? Could I impregnate someone? Please don’t tell me that I’m an O…

A thirtysomething woman interrupted my quiet freakout, “Oh, my dear Eli, you are no longer affected by the fever. Thomas will be quite happy to hear that you have awakened. We were worried after you failed to wake for five days.”

I nodded, internally thanking her for putting a name to my current identity. I am Eli, not Eric. Having an identity to claim will help me understand where I am and what kind of world, I am in. Thanks to characters from Isekai manga, I know the importance of initial assessment. However, there was something familiar about these people and names, like Jack had read about them or I had watched a Netflix series about them. However, I never heard about any royalty in history with my physical descriptions, except some lurid tales about ancient Egyptian pharaohs enjoying orgies with young “Hermaphrodites”. I hated that term, which was commonly used for centuries to describe people like me. Based on those facts at least, I can tell that this isn’t exactly the history that I am used to, even if there might be similarities. So I don’t have to worry about creating a time paradox or something.

She continues, “Your sister Mary has sent messengers asking about your health, and your brother, King Edward sent his royal physician, who said you were in the hands of God upon inspecting you the other day.”

Understanding that I had siblings and we’re all in the same royal family, I figured I had to speak, “You can tell them both, I am well and thank them for their well-wishes.”

While keeping quiet was needed to make assessments, speaking a few words was needed to maintain my position. I didn’t know what the relationship with Mary and Edward was, so I had to be wary of Games of Throne-type things. Asking about my health could be a means to assess if an assassin had completed the job or can I be influenced into one of their factions in the royal court. The best move right now for me without knowing too much was to say I am well to both, then let the other shoe drop later. If I can buy more time to learn, I can better defend myself in this new environment.

She made more small talk about the weather, the flowers, and some kind of game called Quoits, which appear to be a form of horseshoes. I listened and nodded, but I did not speak to her again throughout the conversation. At some point, she stopped, when an older man came in. The man had black hair with sprinkles of gray from his head to his beard, looking like Sean Connery from the 1980s. He wore a jacket with copper and bronze buttons and held himself with an air of dignity. He wore a leather satchel, which was a cross between a briefcase and a large purse, but it didn’t seem out of place on this man. He was a silver fox.

She turned toward the older man, “Lord Ashley, Eli appears to be doing quite well. I shall depart to inform the others.”

Bowing in deference, he did not speak to me until she left, “I am very sorry for my late arrival as the rains made the roads impassable. Did that scoundrel rip you open again? I remember the first time he did that a year ago in your fourteenth year, you were sick with a fever for months afterward. If your father, King Henry, were still alive, he would never have allowed such an abuse to occur. Even if your mother, Anne, was executed by his hands, he never failed to love you as his child despite everything.”

The various details lined up in my mind, and I realized why all these people seemed so familiar even if they were slightly different. Queen Dowager Parr, her rapist husband Thomas, my sister Mary, my brother King Edward, and finally King Henry and my mother Anne, who was executed by him. I’m part of some parallel reality version of the Tudor family. By extension, I’m in the role of Elizabeth, the OG queen of England. Fuck, I can’t be Cate Blanchett or some symbolic larger-than-life historical figure. How can this even work?