Hello, my dear friends. If you thought

that medieval kings only knew how to

rule, marry, have children, and attend

banquetss, then you probably have never

heard of them having sex with corpses,

using menstrual blood as a love potion,

or demanding sex slaves to serve them

even when they were dying. These acts

that are considered disgusting, immoral,

and even illegal in modern society were

once covered up as part of the sacred

royal ritual. Each layer of the palace's

velvet curtain will gradually be lifted,

revealing secrets that will both shock

and captivate you. Tonight, let's step

into the royal chambers and uncover the

darkest side of medieval power. So,

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this journey together tonight.

If anyone thought medieval royal

families only use prayers and herbs to

treat their illnesses, they would be

wrong. In some courts, when a king or

prince got sick with a disease people

now believe to be syphilis, he was told

to lie with a virgin, not as a matter of

pleasure, but as a supposed cure. The

belief was simple, but disturbing. It

said that the fresh, untouched body of a

young girl could pull the sickness out

of the royal man and take it into

herself. That way, the man would be

restored and the disease would be gone.

The idea came from fear and desperation.

Royal families feared illness more than

anything else. Doctors of the time had

little understanding of disease and

treatments were often based on

superstition or tradition, not science.

Some thought bathing in goats milk would

work. Others tried leeches. But when

those didn't help, the suggestion to

find a virgin was offered like it was

medicine. And once the king or prince

accepted it, the search began.

Girls from poor families were the first

ones taken. Some were orphans. Some were

daughters of servants. A few were picked

up off the streets. No one asked them

what they wanted. They were told they

had been chosen to help the royal

family. That was all. The families who

gave them away either had no idea what

was going to happen or didn't care. In

many cases, they were paid in grain,

tools, or fabric. What happened to the

girl afterward didn't matter. The girl

would be washed, dressed in a clean

tunic, and brought into a chamber. The

room would have scented candles and soft

sheets, as if that made anything better.

The man in the bed was usually sweating

and weak. Sometimes he was covered in

soores, but she had no choice. She was

told to lie beside him. Sometimes it

happened once, other times. The girl was

made to return again and again, and if

the man did not get better, another girl

would be brought in to replace her. In

those rooms, virginity was not a virtue.

It was a tool, like a knife for a

sponge. Once the girl was used, she was

often discarded. Some were sent to

convents. Others were pushed out of the

palace with a few coins and told not to

come back. A few got pregnant. If that

happened, the child was rarely

acknowledged. the girl might be punished

for it. No one blamed the royal man. The

shame always fell on the girl, even

though she never had a say in what

happened. In some places, the practice

became routine. Court officials would

quietly keep track of girls who fit the

description. They had to be young,

healthy, and silent. That last part

mattered most. A girl who made noise,

asked questions, or cried was considered

troublesome. Those who obeyed without

question were seen as ideal. Some were

used more than once, not because anyone

cared for them, but because they had

learned not to resist. Slaves had it

even worse. They didn't even need to be

tricked or paid. They were just ordered.

A nobleman with soores on his body and

pain in his joints would call for a

slave girl as if calling for food. She

would be brought in, sometimes still

bruised from previous beatings, and told

to please her master. There was no

thought of her safety or health. She was

not seen as a person. She was a vessel,

a tool, something to be used and then

sent back to the corner of the palace

where the others slept. The fact that

these men believed disease could be

cured by harming a child shows just how

twisted royal thinking could be. in

royal medicine. Nothing was questioned

if it served the man at the top. If a

noble or king said it worked, no one

argued. Servants followed orders. Guards

stood outside the door. No one wrote

anything down. No one asked what

happened to the girl. As long as the

king felt better the next day,

everything was considered successful.

Some doctors encouraged the practice. A

few even said it was a sign of the god's

favor that such a cure existed.

These same men would refuse to treat

peasants, but had no trouble

recommending a poor girl's body as

treatment for the royal family. The

church, too, stayed silent. They

preached purity from the pulpit, but

looked away when the king wanted

something. No priest ever stopped the

process. A few even gave quiet blessings

before the act began. Looking at it now,

it feels less like history and more like

a crime that never got punished. This

was not a rare event. It happened in

multiple kingdoms with different rulers

and under different banners. What they

all had in common was power. The kind of

power that made everything possible,

even the unthinkable. These acts were

hidden behind walls and drapes. But

everyone in the palace knew. They just

chose not to see. By the time the girl

left the palace, she was no longer the

same. Some returned home with injuries

or sickness. Others never spoke again. A

few took their own lives, but their

stories never made it into books or

scrolls.

They were forgotten as quickly as they

were taken. To the royal men, these

girls were like temporary medicine. Once

used, they were replaced. As torches

burned low in the hallway and the

chambers fell quiet. Another girl might

be standing outside a door, holding her

breath, trying to understand what was

happening. She would step inside because

she was told to. She would do what was

asked because she couldn't say no. She

would carry the memory, but no one would

ever ask her about it. In the next part,

we will look at how royal daughters were

forced to prove their virginity before

marriage and how honor was often

measured by what their bodies could

show. The girls who were used as cures

for disease were not the only ones whose

bodies were controlled by royal customs.

Even the daughters of kings and queens

had to go through painful and

humiliating rituals. A princess might

grow up in silk gowns, eat from golden

plates, and be taught to speak multiple

languages.

But before her wedding day, everything

came down to one thing, whether her

hyman was still intact. The fear of lost

honor pushed royal families to demand

physical proof of something that should

never have been public. In many royal

courts, it was required that a princess

go through a virginity inspection before

her marriage. The ceremony could be

formal or quiet, depending on the

country and time, but it always involved

other people looking at her body,

especially the part that should have

been left private. She had no say in it.

She could not refuse. It didn't matter

if she was kind, clever, or loyal. If

her body did not match the expectations,

she was at risk. These inspections were

usually done a few days before the

wedding. The girl was taken to a chamber

inside the palace. Sometimes her mother

or a trusted older servant would be

present, but often she was surrounded

only by women chosen by the court. The

person leading the inspection was called

a royal midwife or in some places a

court physician. But most of them were

not trained doctors. They were women who

had performed this job many times and

were trusted to report honestly to the

king. The idea that a woman's honor

could be confirmed by someone's fingers

is one of the strangest things ever

accepted as tradition. These women would

check for the presence of the highman,

believing that it was the only sign of

virginity. They didn't consider that

some girls were born without one or that

it could break for many innocent

reasons. No, they were told to find it,

and if they couldn't, the girl was

considered impure.

The report would then go to the king,

the groom's family, and in some cases,

even the church. If the inspection

passed, the wedding continued. The girl

was seen as worthy of marriage. But if

there was doubt, everything changed. A

failed inspection could mean being sent

away to a convent or banished from

court. In more severe cases, especially

if the royal family felt shamed in front

of their allies, the punishment could be

death. There are stories of princesses

being poisoned or quietly executed

because they were believed to have lost

their virginity before marriage.

Sometimes the accusation wasn't even

true. Some families repeated the

inspection more than once, using

different women to check, hoping for a

different result. Others forced the girl

to swear on a holy book that she had

never been touched. But even if she

swore, it didn't always matter. Compared

to modern standards, this would be like

forcing a young bride to undergo a

public body scan before walking down the

aisle. To prepare for the inspection,

many girls were kept away from men for

years. Some were locked in towers or

guarded by women day and night. Every

male servant was removed from the area.

The fear of losing the royal honor was

stronger than any sense of comfort or

trust. Parents believed that a

daughter's body carried the reputation

of the whole family, and so they

controlled it as if it were property. In

some courts, the inspections became

ceremonies. Women from noble families

were invited to watch. They would gather

in a chamber dressed in their finest

clothes and wait for the moment when the

girl was brought in. She would be asked

to lie down on a bench or stand on a

stool depending on local custom. Then

the royal examiner would begin her work

while others observed in silence. The

girl was not allowed to cover her face.

Her expression was part of the judgment.

What troubles me most is how no one

seemed to care about what these girls

felt. After the inspection, the results

were often announced immediately. If she

passed, she might be hugged and

congratulated. If she failed, she was

removed quietly and the guests would be

told that the wedding was delayed.

Rumors would spread in the court.

Servants would whisper and the girl

would never return to public life in the

same way again. Some girls tried to fake

their virginity by bleeding during the

wedding night, using small animal

bladders or bits of sponge soaked in

blood. Others would ask servants to help

them insert thin membranes made from pig

skin to mimic the himman. But these

tricks were risky. If caught, they faced

worse punishment. And even if they

weren't caught, the guilt often stayed

with them for life. The women who

performed these inspections rarely

questioned what they were doing. They

had been raised in the system. They were

told it was their duty. Some felt pity,

others did not. They focused on the task

and avoided looking into the girl's

eyes. It was easier that way. When the

inspection was over and the room was

cleared, the girl would often sit alone

for hours trying to understand what had

just happened. She might still get

married. She might be sent away. But

either way, something inside her had

changed. Not just her body, but her

trust in the people who were supposed to

protect her. No matter how well a girl

behaved or how much she followed the

rules, one false move or one mistaken

inspection could destroy everything. As

the palace servants cleared the room and

the candles burned low, another girl

somewhere else in the kingdom might be

preparing for her own inspection. She

would be told it was tradition, that it

was important, that it had always been

done, but she would know deep down that

none of it was really for her. In the

next part, we will look at the marriages

between close relatives inside royal

families and how incest was seen as a

way to protect the bloodline, even when

it caused more harm than good. The fear

of losing a throne was stronger than

most emotions in medieval royal

families. A king might trust his

soldiers, his ministers, or even his

sons. But when it came to the bloodline,

he trusted only one thing, family. To

keep the royal blood pure, many kingdoms

arranged marriages between close

relatives, cousins, half siblings, even

uncles and nieces were matched. Not out

of love or personal connection, but out

of duty to the throne. The goal was

always the same. Make sure the crown

stayed in the hands of someone with the

right last name. In some royal families,

it was common for cousins to marry each

other. These marriages were often

planned from the time the children were

born. If a king had a daughter and his

brother had a son, they would agree that

one day the two children would marry. It

didn't matter that they were related. It

was seen as an advantage. The families

were already connected, so there would

be no fighting over power. Everything

stayed in the same hands.

The idea was that blood was stronger

than anything else. Bringing in someone

from another family, even a noble one,

was seen as a risk. That new person

might want to claim land, titles, or

influence. By marrying inside the

family, the royals thought they could

avoid all of that. They believed it was

safer to share a bed with a cousin than

a throne with a stranger. It's strange

how the people who feared outsiders the

most were often sleeping with their

relatives. These cousin marriages were

not always between adults. Some were

arranged between children, sometimes

before they could even walk. Two

toddlers from the same royal line would

be betrothed with a ceremony, and

everyone would smile as if it were a

happy moment. When they got older, they

had no choice but to follow through.

Some were married by the age of 12 or

13. A few were forced into their roles,

even younger. There are records of royal

families pushing even further.

In some cases, kings were accused of

having children with their daughters. It

was not always proven, but the rumors

were strong enough that they appeared in

documents and stories of the time. One

king was said to have taken his daughter

as his second wife after the queen died.

Another was rumored to have fathered

children with multiple halfsisters. The

court would stay quiet, but everyone

knew. servants, scribes, and guards all

saw things they were never allowed to

repeat when questioned. These families

often gave the same answer. They said it

was necessary to keep the line pure.

They believed that if royal blood mixed

with common blood, the kingdom would

suffer. They feared curses, illness, and

rebellion. But by keeping the blood

within the same family, they thought

they could stay close to the gods or at

least close to power. Of course, the

results were not always good. These

marriages between close relatives often

led to health problems.

Children were born with weak bones, poor

eyesight, or mental disabilities. Some

never lived past infancy. Others became

kings or queens, but struggled to rule

because of constant sickness. In today's

world, we call that inbreeding and know

it causes long-term harm. Back then,

they called it tradition. The children

in these families didn't have a say. A

prince might grow up knowing he would

marry his cousin. A princess might be

told that her halfb brotherther was

going to be her husband. Some were

confused, others afraid, but none of

them were allowed to refuse. If they

protested, they were told they were

disloyal to the family. If they cried,

they were told to grow up. There were

also political reasons for these

pairings. In some kingdoms, the rule

stated that only those of royal blood

could inherit the throne. If no eligible

candidate could be found outside the

family, the court would look inside.

Marrying a niece or cousin became the

only way to keep the crown safe. Even

when a suitable outsider existed, they

were often ignored in favor of someone

with a closer bloodline. Some historians

believe that these unions were more

about control than love or purity. By

marrying within the family, a king could

keep his children close and his enemies

far. He didn't have to worry about rival

families growing too powerful. He didn't

have to divide land or share secrets.

Everything stayed within the same walls.

What stands out most to me is how the

children became tools arranged like

pieces on a chessboard without ever

being asked what they wanted. As

generations passed, the effects of this

system became clear. Royal portraits

began to show faces with the same

features repeated too often. The family

trees became twisted and confusing. Some

kings had more titles than scents. Some

queens married men who had once been

raised as their brothers. The lines

between parents, sibling, and spouse

blurred until no one outside the palace

could tell who was related to whom. Even

worse, some of these marriages were not

just close in blood, but close in age

and location. A girl raised beside her

cousin was later told to share his bed.

A boy who had played games with his

aunt's daughter was forced to call her

wife. The emotional confusion was deep.

They were told it was normal. They were

told it was for the kingdom. But inside,

many of them carried the weight of

knowing something wasn't right. At court

banquetss and ceremonies, these couples

smiled and played their roles. Behind

the walls, they often lived separate

lives. Some barely spoke to each other

outside of required appearances. Others

were deeply unhappy. A few tried to

escape the system, but most accepted

their fate. It was what they were born

into. It was what was expected.

As the fire light flickered across

painted ceilings and quiet halls,

another royal child might be sitting in

her chamber holding a wedding dress that

had been sewn for her since birth. She

would not know what love meant. she

would only know duty. In the next part,

we'll explore what happened when death

entered the picture and how some kings

believed that a queen's body could still

serve a purpose even after she stopped

breathing. Some royal customs were

created to protect power, others to keep

bloodlines pure, but a few crossed into

something even darker. In certain

kingdoms, when a queen died, her body

was not taken straight to the tomb. It

was kept inside the palace for days.

Not just for mourning, but for something

far more disturbing.

Some kings believed that death did not

end their bond with the queen.

Especially when it came to the marriage

bed. These kings wanted to lie one last

time with the body of their dead wife.

Not symbolically, but physically. They

saw it as a farewell act, a final

confirmation that she still belonged to

them even after her last breath. Some

called it a ritual. Others called it

madness. But it happened often enough to

be written in court records and

whispered among servants. The body would

be placed in a special room separate

from the main halls. The windows were

closed and the doors were guarded. Only

a few people were allowed inside.

The queen's body was dressed in fine

clothes and perfumes were used to mask

the early signs of decay. Sometimes her

hair was combed and decorated with pins

and jewels. The idea was to make her

look as close to life as possible. Even

though everyone knew she was already

gone,

it's hard to imagine a more twisted

version of a goodbye than a king

crawling into bed with his dead queen.

The king would enter the room alone. No

one was supposed to know what happened

after the door shut. But many guessed.

In some cases, the servants were ordered

to prepare oils, cloths, and even clean

sheets. These were not needed for

mourning. They were meant for something

else. When the king came out, no one

asked questions. He would walk down the

hallway, silent and pale, while the

guards quietly opened the doors for

fresh air to return. The body was

usually kept for 3 or 4 days before

burial. During that time, the king could

return to the room more than once. He

might sit beside her, speak to her, or

lie beside her again. It was all treated

as part of a farewell ritual. No priest

would interfere. No court adviser would

object. The pain of the king was seen as

sacred and anything he did in private

was accepted. Some kings even gave

instructions to delay burial if they

felt the ritual was not complete. They

would say the queen needed more time for

her soul to find peace. But the real

reason was known to those closest to the

royal chambers. The queen was not

allowed to leave until the king said so.

even in death. Not every king behaved

this way, but the ones who did left

behind enough stories for future

generations to record. One king in

Eastern Europe was known for keeping his

wife's body in bed with him for a full

week. He refused to let anyone enter the

room. The smell eventually became too

strong to hide, and only then did he

allow the funeral to begin. Another king

had a private room built under his

palace just for the purpose of keeping

his wife's bodies after death. It was

described in old documents as a place of

memory, but many believed it was

something else entirely. There were even

rumors that one of his wives died during

childbirth and he spent three nights

beside her cold body, calling it a holy

act. If this happened today, the palace

would be surrounded by police and

forensic teams. Back then, it was just

another chapter in the royal story. In

many ways, these acts came from the same

place as the rules about bloodline and

marriage. The king believed that his

wife belonged to him completely in life,

in death, and even beyond. Her body was

still seen as his property, and no one

had the courage to tell him otherwise.

The servants obeyed. The priests stayed

quiet. The family looked away. Some

records from palace scribes describe the

events in careful polite words. They use

phrases like ritual closure or final

union.

But the meaning is clear. A man

unwilling to let go turned his wife's

corpse into something that served his

desires. Whether it was out of grief,

madness, or a sense of power, no one

could say for sure. But it was accepted.

And that's what makes it so disturbing.

There were also beliefs at the time that

this final act could help the queen's

soul cross into the next life. By lying

with her one last time, the king was

said to seal her passage. It was meant

to bring peace both to her and to him.

But peace does not usually involve

locking a room and keeping a corpse

dressed in lace and pearls. What bothers

me most is not just what the king did,

but how everyone else allowed it to

happen. In some cases, the queen's body

was not even buried after the ritual. It

was placed in a sealed tomb inside the

palace. The king would visit it from

time to time, leaving behind gifts or

speaking to the stone. Some said he

still believed she could hear him.

Others thought he was waiting for death

to join her and repeat the act again.

Not all queens were treated this way.

Some were buried quickly with a proper

ceremony. But when a king chose the

other path, no one dared to stop him.

Power made everything acceptable. Even

love turned into something cold and

forced. As the candles melted down in

the sealed room and the walls held in

the silence, another royal woman

somewhere in the kingdom might have

heard the story and wondered what would

happen to her one day. Would she be

remembered with prayers and flowers or

with locked doors and strange rituals?

In the next part, we'll look at how sex

became part of royal religious offerings

and how kings and queens were expected

to perform intimate acts as part of

public sacrifices to the gods. Not all

royal sexual rituals happened in secret

chambers. Some took place in front of

others during events that were meant to

look like religious ceremonies. In a few

medieval courts, there was a belief that

fertility and royal power came from the

gods. And to keep that connection

strong, physical acts had to be offered

back to those same gods. This led to

rituals that combined sex and worship

carried out by people from the royal

family on important days of the year in

certain palaces. Holy festivals were

marked with what they called a sacred

union. The belief was that the land, the

crops, and the people's health depended

on the king's ability to connect with

divine forces. To do that, he had to

perform what they called symbolic

intercourse, often in front of an

audience of nobles, priests, and trusted

palace staff. The woman chosen to

participate was usually of royal blood,

too. Sometimes she was the queen, other

times a high-ranking noble woman and

occasionally a young relative selected

just for that purpose. The act was seen

as more than physical. It was supposed

to show the gods that the king was

willing to give a part of himself in

return for blessings. The woman was

considered a standin for the goddess of

fertility. The idea was that by uniting

their bodies, they were copying what the

gods had done in the sky. But it was not

just a performance.

Many of these rituals were real,

physical, and sometimes even repeated

each year. It's hard to believe people

once clapped for sex as if it were a

rain dance. The location was usually

inside a private temple within the

palace walls. The room would be prepared

days in advance. Flowers were hung from

the ceiling. Fresh linens were placed on

the altar or the ritual bed. Scented

smoke filled the space. And priests

stood by to chant prayers. The king

would arrive wearing ceremonial clothes,

often bare-chested or wrapped in thin

robes. The woman would be dressed in

white or gold, depending on the season.

As part of the ritual, the couple would

lie together while the priests continued

chanting. No one spoke. No one moved

unless they were told. In some versions

of the ceremony, the priest would

collect the king's semen afterward using

a cloth or a special cup. It would then

be placed on the altar or sprinkled onto

sacred objects. This was supposed to

bring divine energy into the temple and

protect the kingdom for another year.

Some palaces even had permanent staff

assigned to these tasks. There were

servants who cleaned the ritual room,

prepared the oils, and managed the

clothes used in the ceremony. They were

trained to remain silent and not make

eye contact. Everyone involved knew

their role, and the line between worship

and obedience became very thin. If

someone tried to film a religious sex

scene in a modern church, the entire

country would protest. But back then it

was just another royal duty. The woman

who took part was not always given a

choice. Even if she was royal, refusing

to participate could be seen as an

insult to the gods. Some queens accepted

the role because they wanted to appear

strong and devoted. Others went along

with it because they were afraid. In

rare cases, the same woman was used for

several years in a row, becoming known

in the palace as the fertility vessel,

though no one dared say it out loud. The

king was praised afterward. He was seen

as powerful, generous, and spiritually

strong. People believed that the more

committed he was during the ritual, the

better the harvest would be. Some kings

took pride in this role and even invited

foreign guests to witness parts of the

ceremony, especially during alliances or

treaty signings. It was a strange form

of diplomacy, but one that was taken

seriously at the time. There were also

cases where the ritual wasn't limited to

one couple. On certain holidays,

multiple pairs were chosen, including

nobles, priests, and even guards. They

were matched based on rank and

bloodline, and their unions were meant

to mimic the structure of divine

relationships.

Everything was controlled, who

participated, when it happened, and how

the seed was handled afterward. None of

it was accidental. The strangest part

for me is how ordinary people believe

their fate depended on whether a king

reached climax during a temple ritual.

Written records from these courts

describe the process in great detail.

They list the names of participants, the

chance used, and even the exact timing

of each step. Some kings had personal

scribes who kept notes during the

ceremony, later turning them into

official archives.

These documents still exist in fragments

found in monasteries or buried beneath

old palaces. Over time, some of these

rituals were replaced by more symbolic

acts. The couple might lie together

under a blanket without touching. Or the

king would pour water onto the altar

instead of offering semen. But in the

earlier centuries, the physical act was

real and it carried heavy meaning. It

was not about love. It was not even

about pleasure. It was about showing the

gods that the king was worthy of their

favor. The servants who cleaned the

ritual room after the event rarely spoke

of what they saw. They knew better. Some

burned the sheets. Others buried the

cloth in temple gardens. It depended on

local beliefs, but the goal was always

the same. Transfer the king's energy to

the earth through the gods, using sex as

the bridge. Not all kingdoms practiced

these rituals. Some saw them as sinful

and banned them. But in places where the

old traditions were strong, they lasted

for centuries.

They became part of the rhythm of royal

life. The harvest meant a ritual. The

new moon meant preparation. The king's

body was not just his own. It was a tool

for divine connection. As the chance

faded and the smoke cleared, another

servant might enter the room to collect

what was left. She would move carefully,

not out of respect, but because she had

been trained that way. The room was

holy, even if what happened inside felt

anything but. In the next part, we'll

turn to a very different kind of belief.

One where royal women used their

menstrual blood to try to control love

and power, mixing old magic with

personal desperation.

Royal rituals were not always grand

events filled with music and ceremony.

Some were quiet, secret, and done by

women behind closed doors. In many

medieval courts, noble women believed

that their blood had power. Not the kind

spilled in battle, but the kind that

came every month. Menstrual blood to

them was more than a physical sign. It

was seen as a tool. And in certain

circles, it was used as a weapon to

capture love and bind loyalty. Among

noble and royal women, there was a

belief that a man could be made to fall

in love or stay in love if he

unknowingly consumed a drop of a woman's

menstrual blood. The idea was that this

blood held her essence. By swallowing

it, the man would be tied to her. His

desires would be harder to control. His

thoughts would return to her more often.

It wasn't just about romance. It was

about control. The method was simple.

The blood was usually mixed into food or

drink. A woman might hide it in a thick

stew, stir it into dark wine, or smear

it on a piece of cooked meat. The trick

was to make sure it didn't stand out.

Once the man ate it, she would watch

closely, waiting to see changes in his

behavior. If he returned to her chamber

more often or spoke more kindly, she

believed it had worked. It's funny in a

grim way. While kings were sprinkling

semen on altars, queens were stirring

blood into soup. This belief wasn't just

something peasants whispered about. It

reached high into the ranks of royalty.

Some queens desperate to keep the

attention of a wandering husband were

said to have used their blood in his

meals. A few even involved servants

asking them to help prepare the dish in

just the right way. The risk was high.

If discovered, the punishment could be

severe. But many believed it was worth

trying, especially in a palace where

affection often faded quickly. In some

cases, the blood wasn't fed to a man,

but placed directly onto sacred objects.

There are stories of royal women

smearing their menstrual blood onto

statues of saints, crosses, or religious

relics. They thought this would turn the

divine gaze toward their personal

wishes. Instead of praying with words,

they left a physical trace of their body

behind. The act was hidden, done at

night or in private chapels. A few of

these events were recorded, not because

they succeeded, but because they were

discovered. One queen was caught wiping

blood onto a wooden crucifix. The priest

who found it reported her to the court,

and she was accused of blasphemy. In

another court, a noble woman was said to

have soaked a strip of cloth in her

blood and tucked it into the bedding of

a man she hoped to marry. When it was

found, she claimed it was an accident,

but few believed her. Despite the risks,

the belief didn't disappear. It was

passed down from older women to younger

ones. A mother might whisper it to her

daughter before marriage. A midwife

might mention it during childbirth. It

became part of the hidden knowledge that

women shared when no one else was

listening. If a modern woman admitted to

doing this, she'd probably end up in the

news or a courtroom. But for many

medieval noble women, it was just

another recipe for survival. Not all

attempts were done out of love. Some

women used it to get revenge. If a man

had betrayed them or insulted their

family, slipping blood into his meal was

a way to gain the upper hand. They

believed it would make him weak.

confused or unable to love anyone else

whether or not it truly worked. The

belief gave these women a sense of power

in a world that offered them very little

control. The church strongly opposed

these actions. Clergy called it

witchcraft. They said menstrual blood

was unclean and should never touch

anything holy. But the more they spoke

against it, the more it happened in

secret.

Royal women learned to be careful. They

kept their clothes hidden. They burned

stained sheets. They trained servants to

keep quiet. The ritual became more about

secrecy than spirituality.

Some scholars today believe the whole

idea was symbolic. The blood represented

life, fertility, and inner strength. By

offering it in such a personal way,

women were claiming a form of influence

that men could not take from them. But

in the medieval world, it was never

explained like that. It was just

something that was done, believed, and

passed on. What strikes me as how even

queens who seem to have everything still

felt the need to hide blood and food

just to hold on to someone. There are no

statues or paintings that show this

practice. It wasn't something people

wanted remembered. But the story

survived through letters, rumors, and

confessions made under pressure. In

palace kitchens, and bed chambers, the

quiet work of mixing blood and love

continued long after the priests gave

their warnings. Even today, fragments of

these beliefs remain in old folk tales

and family legends. Some describe women

putting drops of blood into wine

glasses. Others say a shirt stained with

menstrual blood was worn by a husband

who never strayed again.

These stories aren't taught in school,

but they linger in corners of history as

candles burned low in private dining

halls and prayers echoed from distant

chapels. Another noble woman might be

tucking away a handkerchief, waiting for

the right time to use it. She wasn't

thinking about sin or shame. She was

thinking about keeping what little power

she had. In the next part, we'll examine

how royal men were allowed to masturbate

in front of altars and courtiers, not in

secret shame, but as part of a strange

ritual meant to show strength and

fertility.

Royal rituals didn't always happen

behind closed doors in some medieval

courts. Acts that most people today

would consider private were done openly

in the name of strength, purity, and

divine favor.

One of the strangest practices was the

public masturbation of kings and

princes. It wasn't treated as sinful or

shameful. It was described as a right of

purification or sometimes even as a form

of offering. These acts often took place

in temples or palace shrines. Not hidden

but with full permission and

participation from others in the court.

The belief was that semen like blood

carried power. When a king stood before

a statue of a god and pleasured himself,

it was supposed to be a way to show the

gods that he was still strong, fertile,

and fit to rule. It was not about

desire. It was about display. His climax

was seen as a symbol of abundance. Just

as land had to be fertile, so did the

king. If he could release his seed in

the presence of the gods, the people

believed the harvest would be good and

the kingdom would remain stable. These

rituals usually took place at the start

of a new season, during an eclipse or

after a long illness. Sometimes the king

did it alone with only a priest

watching. Other times it was done in

front of the full court. The king would

stand on a raised platform, often in

front of a statue of a male deity, and

perform the act slowly and deliberately.

There was no laughter, no discomfort.

Everyone was told to remain still and

respectful. It's hard to say what's more

awkward, watching your king touch

himself or pretending it's completely

normal. This wasn't just done once or

twice in history. Some royal courts had

it written into their seasonal

calendars. The act was called a right of

renewal or cleansing depending on the

kingdom. It was also believed that the

king's seaman could be used afterward to

help others. In one case, a priest

collected it in a cloth and rubbed it on

a statue of the goddess of fertility. In

another, it was mixed with oil and

applied to a sick queen's forehead as a

supposed cure. There is even a story in

one court where a group of royal

physicians requested that the king

donate his semen regularly to be stored

in jars. These jars were then kept in a

cool chamber, labeled carefully, and

only used when the royal family faced

health problems. The idea was that royal

fluid, like holy water, could protect

and heal. It was not seen as strange. It

was simply part of royal life. Some

princes were expected to do the same

when they reached a certain age. Their

first public release was treated like a

right of passage. Fathers watched,

ministers watched, and afterward the boy

was blessed and given gifts. It was

believed that if a prince could not

perform this task, he was not ready to

lead. Some failed and were shamed.

Others succeeded and their names were

celebrated in quiet ceremonies. This act

was also used as a test during

negotiations. In rare cases, a visiting

prince or nobleman was asked to prove

his strength in the same way, as a

gesture of alliance. If he agreed, it

meant he trusted the kingdom and honored

its gods. If he refused, the court

considered it a sign of weakness or

offense. If any modern politician tried

this during a press conference, they'd

be escorted away in seconds. But in some

medieval palaces, it earned applause.

There are records of nobles standing in

silence while the king completed the

ritual, then bowing afterward. No one

was allowed to speak during the act. Any

noise could be punished. The walls of

the temple were decorated with carvings

of fertility symbols and soft music

played from the far side of the room.

Some kings insisted that their act take

place at sunrise with light shining

directly onto the statue in front of

them. The idea behind all of this was

simple. If the gods had given the king

his strength, then he had to give some

of it back. That meant offering what was

seen as his most sacred fluid. To them,

semen was not something to hide. It was

a part of royal duty. And if the king

refused, it was said that the land would

dry, the people would grow sick, and war

would come to the gates. A few court

scribes described the ritual in detail.

One wrote about the scent of the room,

the silence of the court, and the exact

moment when the king's hand paused

before finishing. Another described how

the statue was washed afterward with

wine and cloth. These records were kept

hidden, read only by future kings or

temple caretakers. But they show how

serious the practice was and how far

people were willing to go to keep the

system in place. Not everyone believed

in it. Some clergy spoke out calling it

prideful or corrupt, but they were

quickly silenced.

In many palaces, the king's body was

treated as holy, and what he chose to do

with it was above question. The servants

cleaned up, the priests gave their

blessings, and the people outside the

palace never knew. What I find most

unsettling is how something so private

became a tool for proving worth, not

just to the gods, but to an entire

court. After the ritual ended, the room

would be cleaned thoroughly. New sheets

laid down, oils and incense burned for

hours. The jars of collected semen were

sealed and stored carefully. They were

labeled with the king's name, the date,

and the purpose of use. Some were never

touched again. Others were used in

strange ways that no one fully recorded.

As the sunlight faded through colored

glass and the guards returned to their

stations, another prince might be

summoned quietly for his first test. He

wouldn't be asked how he felt. He would

only be told what to do and when. In the

next part, we'll explore the secret

rooms behind royal banquetss where group

sex between royals, nobles, and slaves

became a way to celebrate power, not

pleasure.

Not all royal ceremonies were held in

daylight. Some took place at night, far

from the public eye, after the last wine

cups were emptied and the last songs

faded from the halls. In certain royal

courts, the real celebration began only

after the guests thought the party was

over. Behind hidden doors and under

heavy curtains, group sex became a

regular part of private banquetss. It

was not treated as scandalous. It was

organized, expected, and for some even

required. These secret rooms were part

of the palace architecture. They were

built beside banquet halls or underneath

garden courtyards. After hours of

drinking, eating, and toasting, the king

or a high-ranking noble would give a

quiet signal. Servants would then lead

selected guests down narrow hallways to

these rooms. Inside, the atmosphere was

very different. low lighting, piles of

cushions, warm perfumes, and unclothed

bodies moving slowly across the space.

The room smelled of oil, sweat, and

smoke. Nothing about it was accidental.

The men and women waiting inside were

not fellow guests. They were slaves,

handpicked by the royal household. Some

were young, some were older. All were

chosen based on the known preferences of

the nobles expected to attend. There

were people assigned just to gather this

information. Which lord preferred red

hair? Which prince liked tall men? Which

queen desired soft skin or strong hands?

This was known and carefully managed is

almost impressive in the worst way

possible. How much planning went into

making orgies feel like royal protocol.

Once inside, the rules were few. Those

who wanted to participate did. Those who

didn't could watch or leave quietly, but

most stayed. They believed it was part

of court culture. Refusing would offend

the king or show disloyalty. Some joined

because they were curious. Others joined

because they were drunk. And a few

joined because they had no choice. The

line between pleasure and power was

never clear. The slaves, on the other

hand, never had a choice. They were told

where to stand, how to act, and who to

please. If they failed to satisfy a

guest, they could be punished later.

Some were trained from a young age to

perform in these settings. They were

cleaned, perfumed, and dressed in thin

fabric that could be removed easily.

Some were decorated with rings, chains,

or painted skin. Their role was simple,

serve without question. There are

records describing these rooms in

detail. One account talks about

silk-covered beds arranged in a circle.

Another describes benches with carved

handles placed at different heights.

Wine was poured constantly. Music played

softly in the background and guards

stood at the door to make sure no one

entered without permission. Some nights

the gathering stayed small, limited to a

few trusted guests. Other times it

expanded into a full court ritual.

Everyone who held power participated.

There are mentions of kings watching

from raised platforms while others

engaged below. In some cases, the king

joined in. In others, he simply chose

who would go with whom. It was treated

like a theater, except the actors were

real and no one was pretending. Imagine

your boss inviting you to an afterparty

and then pointing to a stranger,

expecting you to strip down and smile.

That's the level of absurdity we're

dealing with here. One of the most

disturbing parts is how princesses were

sometimes included. Not always directly,

but enough to be noted in historical

accounts. There's a story from a

northern kingdom where two royal

daughters were brought into one of these

rooms by the order of their uncle. They

were told it was a ceremony of maturity.

The next morning, they were sent to

convents, their names removed from all

official documents. The event was

recorded later by a court scribe who

called it the night that dirtied the

crown. These events weren't secret to

everyone. Palace staff knew. Servants

who cleaned the rooms found evidence the

next day stained cloths, broken jewelry,

spilled wine, and in some cases, blood.

Some tried to warn others. A few wrote

letters that were never sent, but most

stayed silent. Speaking out meant losing

their position or worse. Some queens

were involved too, not just as

observers, but as participants. They

were expected to show that they were

open-minded, worldly, and aligned with

the king's desires. Some enjoyed the

freedom these knights gave them. Others

hated every moment and later wrote about

it in private journals, many of which

were destroyed or hidden for centuries.

What stays with me is the silence that

followed these nights. The way the

palace returned to normal as if nothing

had happened. By sunrise, the cushions

were collected, the floor swept, and the

doors locked again. At breakfast, no one

spoke of what had taken place. They

returned to their formal clothes and

practiced smiles.

But underneath, the memory lingered. For

some, it was a badge of belonging. For

others, a scar. These group encounters

weren't just about desire. They were

used to build alliances, reward loyalty,

and sometimes test obedience. A noble

who performed well might be given land

or favor. A guest who hesitates might be

cut from the following invitation.

Participation became a way to stay close

to power. And in medieval courts,

closeness to power meant survival. These

gatherings faded in some kingdoms as new

rulers took the throne and the church

gained more influence. But for

centuries, they were as much a part of

palace life as coronations or royal

weddings. They were never mentioned in

official records. But they shaped

reputations, destroyed some lives, and

built others. As torches dimmed and

curtains were drawn tight, another group

might be forming in the hallway. Another

slave brushed with oil, another guest

handed a goblet, another night beginning

with laughter and ending in silence.

In the next part, we'll look at how

royal men were allowed to force

themselves on chosen women in the name

of transferring strength, and how those

women were punished if they dared

resist.

Behind the stone walls of medieval

palaces, not every royal act was dressed

in silk or cloaked in ritual. Some were

brutal, simple, and done in the name of

something called strength. In certain

kingdoms, kings believed they could pass

on their power through sex. It was

called transferring vitality or giving

the seed of strength. But it wasn't a

gift. It was an order. And the women

involved were rarely asked what they

thought. The belief was rooted in the

idea that a strong ruler could create

strong heirs, not just through blood,

but through energy. To pass that energy

forward, the king had to choose a woman

and lie with her at the right time,

usually after a military victory, a

coronation, or a religious feast. The

chosen woman was expected to receive

this honor in silence. She did not ask

why. She did not refuse because refusing

meant punishment and punishment could

mean exile or worse. Most of the women

chosen for this so-called blessing were

slaves or lowranking servants.

Their bodies were considered available.

Some were selected based on appearance.

Others were picked at random. Once

chosen, they were bathed, dressed in

clean linen, and brought into the king's

private room. Sometimes they were

blindfolded. Other times they were

forced to kneel. No one explained the

ritual. It was not about ceremony. It

was about control. Calling forced sex a

blessing doesn't make it any less

violent. It just makes the people saying

it sound ridiculous. Once the act was

done, the woman was watched closely. If

she became pregnant, the palace staff

began a new phase of observation. She

was given better food, softer bedding,

and sometimes even a midwife to monitor

her health. But this care had

conditions. It was only valuable if she

gave birth to a boy. A son meant

success. A daughter meant failure, and

failure came with a price. In some

kingdoms, if a woman gave birth to a

girl, she was quietly removed. Some were

sent to nunneries.

Others disappeared without a trace. Some

documents mentioned certain cleansings

after royal rituals terms that suggest

forced abortions or executions. A few

were allowed to live if the king took

pity, but pity was rare in courts where

bloodlines mattered more than lives. If

the child was a boy, the woman was

sometimes promised freedom, but even

then it was not guaranteed. She might be

sent away with the child or kept locked

in a small wing of the palace when no

one saw her again. The boy, if healthy,

would be raised by other women, never

knowing his mother. She had done her

part. Her value had expired.

What makes this practice worse is that

no one inside the court questioned it.

The king had the right to choose. The

woman had no right to object. Even if

she cried, begged, or resisted, her

voice was ignored. The court called it

tradition. The priest called it

necessary. The scribes called it a form

of sacred duty, but for the women, it

was something else entirely. If this

were written into a royal law today, the

outcry would shut down an entire

government. In medieval courts, it

earned applause. There are accounts of

kings bragging about how many children

they had fathered through this ritual.

Some claimed they had spread strong

blood across villages. Others insisted

they had healed the land through these

acts. No one stopped to ask what the

women thought. Their names weren't

recorded. Their pain wasn't written

down. They were just numbers in someone

else's story. The servants who prepared

the women often stayed silent. A few

left clues in their personal letters

describing the fear in the girl's eyes

or the shaking in their hands. But those

letters rarely made it outside the

palace. Talking about the ritual was

dangerous, and no one wanted to risk

being chosen next. Some queens knew what

was happening. A few supported it,

believing it helped keep the king

focused. Others hated it, but had no

power to stop it. In one court, a queen

was said to have ordered her ladies in

waiting to block the doors during one

such ritual. She was later punished,

stripped of her title, and sent away.

After that, the palace made sure the

doors stayed open. What disturbs me most

is how these women were seen as tools

used once and then discarded while

everyone around acted like it was

normal. The idea of passing strength

through sex didn't stay in one kingdom.

It moved between courts adapted to local

customs. Some called it the seed ritual.

Others named it the blessing of the

throne. But the core idea was always the

same. The king had power and women were

just containers for that power to move

forward. Not all women became pregnant.

Some were blamed for this and punished

again. As if it were their fault the

ritual didn't work. In a few courts,

herbs were forced into their mouths to

cleanse their bodies after failure.

These herbs caused vomiting, bleeding,

and sometimes death. The ritual had

failed, and so had they. The rooms where

these acts took place were usually

small, plain, and locked tight. A few

had carved walls showing scenes of

animals mating, as if to justify what

was happening inside. The bedding was

replaced each time. The sheets burned or

buried. No one spoke of the room, but

everyone knew where it was.

As night settled across the courtyard,

and the torches flickered in their

brackets, another girl might be walking

down a quiet hallway. unaware that her

name had just been chosen. Her body

would be prepared, her door would be

unlocked and her voice, if she had one,

would not be heard. In the next part,

we'll see how the idea of sexual energy

spread even further with some royal

women ordered to lie with soldiers not

out of desire, but to absorb what was

seen as masculine strength from the

lower classes.

Not all sexual rituals in royal courts

were about kings proving strength or

spreading bloodlines. Some involved

queens. In a few kingdoms, there was a

belief that royal women, especially

queens or high priestesses, needed to

balance their energy with that of the

common people. The idea came from old

spiritual teachings that said a woman's

power could become stagnant if it stayed

inside palace walls too long. To prevent

that, she needed to absorb new energy.

And the way to do that was through sex

with someone far outside her rank. This

was not done in secret or treated as a

scandal. It was part of a carefully

managed ritual. The queen would choose

or be assigned a palace guard, someone

young, healthy, and unknown to her. He

would be brought into a special chamber,

usually once a month, during a set phase

of the moon. Before entering, he would

be bathed, perfumed, and then

blindfolded. The blindfold wasn't just

for privacy.

It was meant to ensure that the man

could never claim to have seen the

queen's face, even by accident. The room

was quiet, dimly lit, and lined with

thick fabric. The guard was expected to

remain silent and follow instructions.

The queen or sometimes a female

attendant acting in her place would

initiate the act. No words were

exchanged, no name spoken. When it was

over, the guard was taken out through a

side door, dressed, and returned to his

barracks. He was not allowed to speak of

what had happened. In many cases, he was

sent away the next day to serve at a

distant outpost. It says something

strange about a system when the most

intimate act between two people feels

more like a scheduled delivery than a

shared experience. The belief behind

this practice was based on the idea of

yin and yang or in some cases sun and

earth. The queen surrounded by noblemen,

priests, and women of high birth was

seen as too full of refined energy. To

remain grounded and fertile, she needed

raw earthly force. Something that only a

man from the lower classes could

provide. A soldier with his sweat,

strength, and bloodied boots represented

that force. Some believed this ritual

helped queens conceive. Others thought

it kept them healthy. A few saw it as a

way to calm their minds. But whatever

the reason, the outcome was the same.

One man entered the room blindfolded,

one woman received him, and no one spoke

afterward. The next day, life resumed as

if it hadn't happened. The guards

selected for this role were chosen

carefully. They were not informed ahead

of time. A commander or priest would

call them aside, give basic

instructions, and escort them to the

chamber. Some were terrified, others

took it as an honor, but none were

allowed to repeat the experience. Once a

man had been used in this way, he was

considered spent. The court did not

allow repeats, fearing emotional

attachment or gossip. There were rules

to ensure silence. Some guards were

promised gold. Others were sworn to

secrecy through threats. A few were

never seen again in the palace. They

were reassigned to faraway posts,

sometimes in dangerous places. Their

names were quietly removed from court

records. Over time, even their families

stopped hearing from them. If this

happened in a modern office, it would be

called misconduct, followed by lawsuits.

In the palace, it was considered

balanced. The queen's attendants handled

the details. They selected the day,

prepared the room, and confirmed the

guard's condition. Sometimes, if the

queen was ill or unavailable, a

surrogate woman of similar age and build

was used instead. The energy transfer

was considered more important than the

identity of the people involved. It

wasn't about love. It was about roles

and rules. Some queens looked forward to

the ritual. Others resented it, but all

accepted it as part of their duty.

Refusing meant questioning old beliefs,

and in courts built on tradition, that

was dangerous. A few queens tried to end

the practice. One was said to have sent

back three guards in a row without

touching them. She later fell ill, and

her advisers claimed it was punishment

from the spirits. Palace records mention

these rituals only in passing. They are

listed as balancing sessions or night

offerings. The details were known only

to a few, but letters from servants and

whispers in the kitchen filled in the

blanks. People knew what was happening.

They just didn't speak of it in public.

What unsettles me is how quiet the

palace stayed during these nights. How

something so intense could be wrapped in

routine. The room used for the ritual

was cleaned immediately after. Bedding

was burned or buried. Oils were

refreshed. Some queens kept a cloth

token from the act, a piece of fabric or

a small charm. Others asked that nothing

be saved. It depended on the woman and

the court she served.

There were stories, of course, rumors

that some guards removed their

blindfolds, that some queens requested

the same man twice, that children were

born from these encounters and raised in

secret. But none of these stories were

ever confirmed. In the palace, silence

was stronger than truth. The guards

never returned to that room. Some became

legends among the lower soldiers. Others

were forgotten, but they all carried

something that no one else could prove.

A memory blurred by darkness, fear, and

the weight of something they weren't

meant to understand. As the queen

returned to her daily life, blessing the

sick, walking the gardens, listening to

court musicians, another guard somewhere

in the palace might be selected. He

would not be told why, only where to go

and what not to say. In the next part,

we'll look at a darker corner of royal

pleasure where kings used the bodies of

animals, not as symbols, but as tools

for arousal and ritual.

Royal chambers often held more than just

beds and tapestries. Hidden behind

curtains and inside wooden boxes were

objects that no guest was meant to see.

Some of them were shaped like animals.

Others were made from parts of animals.

They were not for decoration. In certain

palaces, kings and queens used these

tools to arouse themselves or each

other. What began as symbols of strength

or fertility turned into items for

private pleasure, often in ways that

most people today would find disturbing.

There were reports of kings using

feathers, hides, and even living

creatures as part of their sexual

routines. One king was known to keep a

fan made from peacock feathers beside

his bed, but it was not for cooling. He

used the stiff ends to stroke his thighs

and stomach before sleep, believing the

peacock's beauty would pass into his

body. Another kept strips of snake skin

which he would press against his chest

or wrap around certain parts of his

body. He said it helped keep his desire

sharp. These items were chosen

carefully. They were not random. The

peacock symbolized pride and vility. The

snake stood for temptation and

regeneration.

to the king. Using them wasn't strange.

It was part of a ritual. A servant would

bring the items each night and then

leave the room. What happened next

stayed behind closed doors, but traces

of the practice survived in letters, old

journals, and quiet testimonies from

former palace workers. There's something

oddly tragic about a man who rules a

kingdom but still needs a bird feather

to feel alive. Queens had their versions

of these rituals. In some courts, rumors

spread that small animals were used to

arouse the queen or soothe her nerves.

Tiny mammals like hairless ferrets or

trained rodents were said to be washed,

oiled, and released under her skirts. No

one ever confirmed these stories

officially, but drawings found in the

margins of medical texts hinted at such

practices.

A few servants claimed to have prepared

the animals themselves, though their

accounts were vague and full of fear.

These animals were not harmed, at least

not at first. They were trained to stay

calm and move slowly. Their bodies were

rubbed with oils mixed with herbs. Some

queens believed the sensation helped

relieve pain or ease tension during long

ceremonies or when sleep would not come.

The court called it a healing technique,

but many believed it was something else.

In addition to living creatures, royal

bedrooms also contained objects carved

from animal parts. Some of these items

were shaped like male or female

genitals. They were made from smooth

bone, ivory, or even horn. A few were

decorated with gold or wrapped in

leather. They were stored in locked

chests or hidden under mattresses. These

were not toys. They were treated as

personal instruments, often passed from

one generation to the next.

Some kings believed that using these

objects brought them closer to nature.

Others simply enjoyed the feeling. The

materials were cool, heavy, and held up

over time. A piece made from the leg

bone of a deer or the rib of a boar

could last for years. Some were shaped

by palace craftsmen. Others were ordered

from distant regions where certain

animals were considered more potent. If

today's royals had drawers full of sex

tools made from elk ribs, I'm pretty

sure the press wouldn't let them forget

it. These items were sometimes used

during rituals, especially when the king

or queen was ill or preparing for a

religious holiday. They were said to

cleanse the body, awaken desire, or help

channel divine energy. But in most

cases, they were simply used for private

pleasure. The ritual was just an excuse

to keep them in reach. The use of

animals in this way was never discussed

openly. It was passed down through

trusted servants, midwives, and healers.

A girl training to serve the queen might

be shown how to clean a carved piece or

oil a feather, but she would be told

never to speak of it again. Boys who

worked in the king's quarters learned

which bones went where, and how to

polish them until they shone like

marble. These practices were not seen as

wrong. They were just part of palace

life. The idea of using living creatures

or dead ones for sexual purposes did not

cause the same reaction it would today.

In fact, in some courts, it was

considered a mark of refinement to have

such items. Guests who were close to the

royal family sometimes received smaller

versions as gifts. Not all rulers

followed these habits. Some thought it

foolish, others found it offensive. But

for those who did, it became routine. A

feather here, a bone there, a creature

trained to stay quiet. The chambers were

full of candles, shadows, and silent

tools. Nothing spoke, but everything was

used. What I can't forget is how

something so quiet, so strange, became

ordinary behind those heavy palace

doors. Over time, many of these items

disappeared. Some were buried with their

owners. Others were broken or burned

during regime changes. A few ended up in

private collections, misidentified as

religious artifacts or medical tools.

The stories about them became harder to

prove, but they never fully disappeared.

They remained in footnotes, family

letters, and the memory of servants who

dared to write the truth before they

died. As the queen adjusted her robes,

and the king finished his wine, another

servant might be opening a chest at the

foot of the bed. Inside were bones

wrapped in linen, feathers tied with

silk, and a tiny animal cage hidden

under folded sheets. No one asked what

they were for. Everyone already knew. In

the next part, we'll step into an even

more uncomfortable space where statues

shaped like genitals were not just

decorations, but part of daily contact

between royal women and sacred stone.

Royal bedrooms were often filled with

symbols. Some were for protection, some

for luck, but others were much more

specific. In certain medieval courts,

there was a widespread belief that

fertility could be summoned, not just

through prayers or herbs, but through

physical contact with sacred statues.

These statues were not always of saints

or gods. Many were shaped like male

genitals, carved in stone and placed

where royal women could see and touch

them daily. The idea came from older

traditions where phallic-shaped statues

were seen as carriers of life. In

temples and fields, people worshiped

them to ask for children, good harvests,

or strong animals. When those ideas

entered royal courts, they didn't lose

their shape. They simply changed

location. Instead of sitting in public

squares, these statues were moved into

private chambers, especially into the

rooms of princesses and queens who had

not yet conceived.

Young women of noble birth, especially

those who are recently married, were

encouraged to interact with these

statues regularly. Some were told to

kneel before them and place both hands

on the stone. Others were instructed to

lie beside them during rest. The most

detailed accounts mention how a princess

would be brought into a chamber before

her wedding night, left alone with the

statue, and told not to return until she

had spent enough time connecting with

it. If sex education today involved

hugging marble genitals, I doubt many

students would make it past the first

lesson. The statues were carved from

different materials depending on the

region and wealth. Some were made of

smooth white marble, others from black

basaltt or reddish sandstone. The shape

was always exaggerated, larger than

life, and often placed at waist height.

Some had carvings of vines or animals

running along the shaft, symbolizing

growth and vitality.

A few were painted or rubbed with oils

to keep the surface soft and warm to the

touch. It was not uncommon for a young

princess to grow up with one of these

objects in her room. She was told it was

sacred, that it had been blessed by

priests, and that it had helped her

grandmother, her aunt, and her mother

before her. She was taught to approach

it with respect. Some days she would lay

flowers at its base. Other times, she

would simply rest her forehead against

it and whisper, wishes she was not

allowed to say aloud in court. The

touching was considered harmless and

holy. But it didn't stop there. In

certain courts, women were encouraged to

do more than just lay hands on the

statue. They were told to simulate the

act of union, fully clothed, but with

intent. This was supposed to awaken

their bodies, prepare their minds for

childbirth, and please the spirits who

watched over fertility.

Servants were sent away during these

moments, and the doors were locked until

the bell rang for meal time. Queens had

similar practices. Some even kept their

statues well into old age. There are

records of one queen who refused to

sleep unless her statue was nearby. She

had it wrapped in red cloth and placed

beside her pillow each night. Before

bed, she would remove the cloth, kiss

the statue gently, and hold it in her

arms until she fell asleep. It was not

considered strange. Her ladies in

waiting were used to it. They cleaned

the object like any other household

item. There's something deeply surreal

about tucking a stone fallus into bed

next to a woman wearing a diamond crown.

These statues were not hidden. In fact,

in many noble households, they were

displayed proudly. Guests might be led

through halls lined with fertility

figures, some holding wheat, others

shaped like genitals. The meaning was

clear. This was a house that honored

life, growth, and the future. And no one

was embarrassed. Religious figures

sometimes objected. A few bishops wrote

letters asking that the statues be

removed or burned. They called them

pagan, shameful, or sinful. But most

rulers ignored these requests. They

believed that the statues brought good

fortune. And as long as children were

being born, they saw no reason to change

the tradition. The statues were

sometimes included in childbirth

rituals. A woman in labor might grip the

statue during contractions. Others had

it placed under the bed or at the foot

of the delivery couch. It was seen as a

guide, a protector, and a promise that

the child would arrive safely. The

midwives followed instructions

carefully. They believed in the power of

the object as much as the queen did.

What I find most telling is how physical

these traditions were. Faith wasn't just

something you thought. It was something

you touched, kissed, and carried into

bed. Some statues were passed down from

generation to generation.

A new bride would receive the family

statue as part of her wedding gifts. If

it broke, it was considered a terrible

omen. If a woman conceived soon after

touching it, the statue might be

decorated with ribbons or given a new

pedestal in the bedroom. These objects

were more than stone. They were

witnesses to hundreds of knights,

prayers, fears, and hopes. Not all women

embraced the practice. Some felt

uncomfortable and asked to have the

statues removed. A few sent them to

private storage or covered them with

cloth when guests visited. But in most

cases, the presence of the statue was

seen as normal. Children grew up walking

past them. Servants dusted them without

comment. The royal sculptors even made

new ones each year, using updated styles

or smoother finishes. As candles

flickered in the corners and the room

grew quiet, a young noble woman might

reach out once more, pressing her hand

to the cold surface, not out of passion,

but out of habit. It was what her mother

had done. It was what the court

expected. And in her mind, it was part

of becoming a wife. In the next part,

we'll step into an even colder scene

where royal men believed that sex on the

edge of death could carry their souls

into the next world, leading to

disturbing acts with dying bodies.

Death was never just the end in royal

courts. For some kings, it was also a

moment to prove one final thing. In

certain kingdoms, there was a belief

that a man needed to release his last

desire before his soul could leave

peacefully. Without that release, he

might be stuck between worlds, unable to

reach the afterlife. This belief led to

a strange and deeply troubling practice.

Some kings demanded sex in their final

moments, and someone always had to

provide it. The idea was simple. If the

body still held desire at the time of

death, the soul would be restless. So,

the dying man had to be satisfied before

his last breath. This meant that slaves,

concubines, or even unwilling servants

were forced to attend to him, even when

he could no longer move or speak. In

some cases, the king would give the

order weeks before, telling his advisers

which woman he wanted beside him when

the time came. That woman was not

allowed to leave the palace. She had to

stay close, always ready. When death

approached, the palace became quiet.

Priests prayed. Healers prepared herbs.

But somewhere in the back room, a young

woman was being bathed and dressed. She

knew what was expected. The king might

be barely conscious. He might be

feverish, bleeding, or paralyzed.

None of that mattered. The belief said

his seed had to be released no matter

what. Only in a royal court could

someone turn a deathbed into a stage for

one last performance. These acts were

treated as spiritual duties. The court

did not call it abuse. They called them

sacred. The woman's role was described

as a final helper, someone who guided

the king's body toward peace. No one

asked what she wanted. Her comfort was

not discussed. Even if the king could no

longer respond, she was told to lie

beside him, touch him, and wait for a

sign. Some kings made special

preparations.

One ordered a platform to be built under

his deathbed.

The idea was that a concubine would lie

beneath him, unseen by visitors, and act

only when his breathing slowed. She was

trained to respond in silence. Another

ruler demanded that a girl be brought in

wearing the same clothes as his first

wife. He believed this would ease the

transition and bring him joy in the

afterlife. There are records of these

rituals taking place with full court

knowledge. Ministers waited outside.

Guards stood watch. Priests offered

their blessings. No one spoke against

it. The belief in liberating the soul

had been taught for generations. To deny

the king this last act was seen as

cruel, even dangerous. Some said it

could bring bad luck on the kingdom if

the ritual was not completed properly.

Not all kings made this request, but

enough did that the tradition became

part of palace training. Girls selected

for this role were often young and

quiet. They were fed well, kept clean,

and told they were lucky to serve the

king in this way. Some were promised

gold or freedom afterward. Few actually

received it. Once the king died, the

focus shifted to the funeral, and the

girl's part in his death was forgotten.

If hospitals today had staff assigned to

pleasure patients before death, I doubt

anyone would call it healthcare.

Sometimes the ritual didn't work. The

king died too quickly. The girl refused

to participate. In those cases, the

court would invent a story. They would

say the act had been completed, even if

it had not. They believed the lie was

safer than admitting the king had passed

without release. Better to fake peace

than risk unrest. There were darker

versions of the ritual, too. In one

court, it was said that a dying prince

demanded a young male servant instead of

a woman. The servant was terrified but

obeyed. After the act, he was given a

cloak and told to leave the country. No

one ever saw him again. Another story

tells of a queen who was forced to

receive her husband's final effort. Even

though he had already lost the ability

to speak, the priest guided his hand

while the queen cried in silence. These

stories are not easy to read, but they

were real. They were written in old

letters, whispered in kitchens, and

scribbled into the margins of medical

books. The belief that sex could unlock

the soul's door was strong enough to

shape how people lived and how they

died. In these courts, the body never

stopped being useful, even in its final

minutes. What stays with me is how

death, which should be quiet and

dignified, became just another place

where power demanded its due. The women

involved were rarely honored. Most were

dismissed quickly after the ritual. A

few were sent to convents. Others were

married off to guards or lowranking

nobles. The palace didn't want them

around. Their presence was a reminder of

what had happened, and the court

preferred to forget.

The rooms used for these acts were often

sealed after the king's death. Some were

turned into prayer spaces. Others were

left untouched as if freezing the moment

in stone and silence. The beds were

burned. The sheets are buried, but the

stories lingered. Servants passed them

down. And generations later, they still

reach us. Not everyone believed in the

ritual. Some called it cruel. Others

said it was a twisted excuse for

control. But as long as the king

believed it, no one could stop it. He

was the center of the world, and if he

said he needed to be touched before

death, someone was forced to obey.

As the final candle burned in the king's

chamber, and the doors closed for the

last time, a girl somewhere else in the

palace might be sitting on a stool,

hands folded, waiting to be told she

could return home. She had done what was

asked. She had no part in the funeral.

In the next part, we'll look at how even

royal children were drawn into these

customs, not through participation, but

through education, forced to watch acts

they could not yet understand.

In some medieval royal courts, sex was

not only something that adults

experienced. It was also something that

children were expected to observe,

especially boys. Young princes from a

very early age were introduced to the

adult world not through books or

stories, but through direct exposure to

what their fathers and mothers did

behind closed doors. It was considered

part of their royal education. These

boys were often led into the royal bed

chamber, usually by a trusted servant.

The room would already be prepared, the

king and queen would lie in bed, and the

child was told to watch. No one thought

it was odd. It was believed that this

experience would teach him how to become

a strong man, a capable ruler, and most

importantly, a fertile husband. To the

people running the palace, the earlier

he learned, the better. There are

records suggesting that in certain

dynasties, boys as young as six or seven

were taken to these lessons. They were

made to stand near the bed, often in

silence.

Sometimes they were allowed to ask

questions afterward, but most of the

time they were expected to remember what

they saw and keep it to themselves. They

were not given space to react

emotionally. Crying or asking to leave

could be seen as weakness or

disobedience.

Apparently, some royal educators thought

the birds and the bees should come with

royal curtains and live demonstrations.

As the boy grew older, his role became

more active. He might be assigned to

assist in the sleeping chambers. These

roles were sometimes labeled as bed

attendants or night servants. Their

official duty was to prepare the room,

manage the linens, and stand ready with

whatever the king or queen needed during

the night. But in practice, the lines

between service and exposure blurred

quickly. A few of these boys were placed

in situations where they saw sex happen

regularly. Some had to help clean the

bed after it was over. Others had to

bring water for washing or oils for

massaging.

In some extreme cases, they were told to

stay close to the bed and assist if

needed. These were not professional

positions. These were children who

happened to be born in a palace and were

told this was normal. Girls faced a

different kind of expectation.

While boys were trained to witness,

royal daughters were groomed to

participate. From a young age, they were

taught how to behave like a queen. that

included learning how to become a wife.

In certain courts, this process started

shockingly early. There are verified

accounts of royal girls being married

off before they even reach puberty. Some

were engaged before they turned 8.

Others were sent away at 9 or 10 to live

with older husbands. The idea was to

secure political ties as early as

possible. Whether or not the girl was

physically mature did not matter. Her

body was part of the diplomatic

arrangement and once she arrived in her

new household, she was expected to act

like a proper wife. There were instances

where the marriage was ceremonial at

first. The couple lived together but

were not expected to consumate the union

until the girl was older. However, in

many cases, that line was not respected.

Husbands did not always wait, and there

was no real way to enforce any delay. A

powerful man could take what he wanted.

The girl had no protection. Some

princesses were forced to share beds

with their new husbands before they even

knew what marriage truly meant. They

bled, they cried, and they were told to

be quiet. If they survived, they were

praised for being obedient daughters. If

they suffered, their stories were rarely

written down. But sometimes the pain was

visible in letters, journals, or quiet

complaints from court officials who

witnessed the aftermath. In modern

times, this wouldn't be called education

or alliance building. It would be called

child abuse.

There was one case in a northern

European court where a 10-year-old

princess was sent to marry a distant

cousin. The wedding included a public

ceremony, but the bedding was meant to

happen privately. Her lady in waiting

later described how the girl trembled

throughout the night and had to be

carried from the room the next morning.

No one punished the groom. Instead, they

congratulated him. This kind of

treatment was normalized because it came

from tradition. People thought they were

protecting the family's future. If the

girl gave birth to a son, the suffering

was seen as worthwhile. If she didn't,

the blame often fell on her. She was

accused of being cold, cursed, or

disobedient.

Rarely did anyone question the system

that put her in that position in the

first place. Many of these girls never

went back to their childhood homes. They

stayed with their new families, often

isolated and lonely. Some died young

from childbirth. Others lived but

carried deep emotional scars.

Still, the practice continued. New

generations of princesses were born and

prepared to follow the same path. The

palace whispered stories of past brides

like bedtime tales, but the endings were

rarely happy. What stands out to me is

how violence was turned into ritual and

trauma was called tradition. There is

little doubt that these practices shaped

the way royal children saw love, power,

and control. They learned early that the

body was a tool, that obedience was

survival, and that their personal

comfort meant little in the face of

duty. Some grew into rulers who repeated

the same practices. Others rebelled

quietly, but could not change the

system. As torches flickered along the

stone walls, and the sounds of banquet

laughter faded into the distance,

another child might be standing at the

doorway of a royal chamber, waiting to

be called in. what they saw next would

stay with them for the rest of their

lives.

In the next part, we'll explore how

political rivalry sometimes pushed kings

to force their wives into humiliating

sexual acts as punishment, not just

behind closed doors, but in front of the

very court that once cheered their

union. If you think royal marriages were

grand affairs filled with joy and

celebration, you might want to look

again at how some of them actually

happened. In many medieval courts,

marriage was not about love or

companionship. It was about power. Some

kings didn't marry because they liked

the woman. They married because she came

with a signature from another ruler. The

wedding was not a family event. It was a

diplomatic transaction. A princess from

a neighboring kingdom might be chosen at

a young age. She had never seen the man

she was going to marry. She didn't speak

his language. She was told it was her

duty. So she packed her belongings, rode

for weeks across strange lands, and

arrived at a court where everything

looked unfamiliar. Her father had made

an agreement, and now her body was part

of the deal. She was not asked what she

wanted. She was just handed over. The

wedding would be arranged quickly. The

guests would be dressed well. The food

would be fine. The bride would be

wrapped in fabric that dragged along the

floor. When the feast ended, the couple

was taken to a room. It was large but

empty. The guard stood outside. The king

rarely stayed long. Sometimes he didn't

even show up. But the marriage was

declared complete. Apparently, a cold

room and a tired girl were enough to

settle political tension between

kingdoms. The bride was often left alone

after the first night. She wasn't given

much explanation. The servants called

her queen, but she didn't feel like one.

Her husband did not visit. He had done

what he was supposed to do. The real

value was in the signature on the

treaty, not the person in the dress. If

she had a child, that was a bonus. If

she didn't, nobody asked her twice. She

was a seal on a piece of paper, nothing

more. In some places, the wedding night

had to be witnessed. Not the act itself,

but at least the beginning. Trusted

nobles were told to watch as the couple

entered the room. Curtains were drawn.

Doors were locked. Then the reports were

written. These were kept in the archives

in case someone ever challenged the

marriage. The bride's word didn't

matter. Only the documents did. Some

courts went further. There were rumors

that the wedding night was staged like a

performance. Candles were placed

carefully. Witnesses stood nearby. The

bride was told what to do. If she

refused, she was threatened. A king

needed proof, not of love, but of

possession. In modern terms, it was like

forcing someone to smile for a photo

they didn't agree to take, then using

that photo to win a war. There were even

instances where early forms of recording

were used. Not detailed videos, but

sketches, written descriptions, and in

some periods, even photos. These were

not meant for the public. They were

stored with legal papers to remind

future rulers that this woman had been

claimed. Her dignity didn't matter. Her

silence was expected. After the wedding,

she was taken to another room. Not a

royal suite, just a space where no one

else entered. The windows were small,

the walls were thick, a chair, a bed,

maybe a chest. The food was delivered

quietly. She might stay there for days.

No one explained why. It was tradition.

They said isolation helped her adjust,

but really it just made her disappear.

Some of these women never left those

rooms. They stayed hidden for years.

Their names remained in the family

records, but they were not seen in

ceremonies. They were not painted in

portraits. They were not spoken of.

Their usefulness had ended. To me, it's

striking how many royal marriages looked

more like a trade agreement than a human

connection. Sometimes the bride's role

didn't even include producing children.

If the alliance didn't work out, she was

blamed. If the king grew bored, she was

ignored. In some cases, she was returned

to her home country with a letter

stating her failure. These letters

didn't spare her feelings.

They described her health, her behavior,

even her body. She was judged not as a

person, but as a failed investment. One

bride was sent from a small kingdom in

the hills to a rich empire by the sea.

The journey took weeks. She arrived pale

and tired. The king greeted her, then

vanished. She was placed in a room and

told to rest. Months passed. No one

visited her. One morning, the door was

locked from the outside. She stayed in

that room for the next 10 years. No one

remembered her name. Her marriage had

fulfilled its purpose. And now she was

forgotten. It's hard not to feel that

the palace, for all its gold and

decoration, was sometimes just a fancier

kind of prison. The public never saw

these things. They heard about the

wedding. They cheered when the princess

arrived. They watched the fireworks and

admired the parade. But they didn't see

the cold room, the silent meals, the

tired girl waiting in her ceremonial

dress. They didn't know she would never

sit beside the king again. They didn't

ask where she went, and in time, she

stopped asking, too. Her name stayed on

paper. Her image faded from memory. But

the marriage had served its purpose. The

alliance was stable. The borders were

quiet. The men in charge were satisfied.

As the candles burned low and the

hallway outside her room grew quiet, she

might lie awake, wondering if anyone

even remembered what her voice sounded

like. In the next part, we'll see what

happened when sex wasn't used for

diplomacy anymore, but as a weapon to

crush pride and punish rivals in front

of an entire court. If you think royal

bedrooms were always filled with

romance, candle light, and carefully

practiced courtship, the truth might

take you by surprise.

In some medieval royal households,

sexual pleasure was tightly linked to

domination, submission, and physical

pain. What happened behind closed doors

was not always about affection or duty.

Sometimes it was about control, and

sometimes it was about surrendering that

control in the most deliberate way.

Certain noble women were known to enjoy

being tied up or whipped as part of

their intimate routines. This wasn't

whispered in fear or hidden in shame. It

was part of what they expected and in

some cases demanded.

The idea of pain blending into pleasure

was not new. Even in these conservative

environments, silk cords and leather

straps were kept discreetly in ornate

boxes. Whips were not used for

punishment, but for arousal.

What might shock modern readers was at

the time simply one of many practices

hidden in the royal chambers.

These women didn't necessarily see

themselves as victims. For some of them

it was a source of emotional release.

The noble woman who had to act composed

all day, curtsy and silence and speak

only when spoken to might choose to

reverse that order at night. She could

kneel, be tied, be struck, and feel

free. It didn't always come from trauma.

It came from desire. It's strange how

pain in some rooms of the palace was not

something to fear, but something to pay

extra for. Among the male royals, there

were those who found equal interest in

this power dynamic. Some didn't want to

be in charge. They didn't want to issue

orders. They wanted to be ordered

around. A few princes, especially those

raised in strict courts, were known to

hire servants or trained companions to

take on a dominant role. These roles

were carefully selected. The servants

might be dressed in theatrical costumes.

The prince might be blindfolded, bound,

and told to kneel. These arrangements

were often set up through

intermediaries. A trusted adviser might

handle the hiring. The participants

rarely spoke about it afterward, but the

evidence exists. Accounts from palace

staff describe the purchase of specific

items. Illustrated scrolls from certain

regions show figures of high status in

submissive positions, arms tied, legs

spread, or backs bent over padded

benches. It's not just a rumor. Some of

these drawings were detailed and kept in

sealed collections, not for art, but for

record. Today, it would be like

discovering a royal photo album that

belonged more in a private dungeon than

a national archive. In one court, a

nobleman had an entire room set aside

for these preferences. The walls were

lined with hooks and velvet ropes. There

was a carved bench in the center and

iron loops attached to the floor. The

room was not marked on any floor plan.

It was always kept locked. Only a

handful of people had the keys. But the

servants who cleaned it described the

markings on the wood and the scent of

wax on the surfaces. It was not a place

for casual rest. Some royal partners

were chosen because of these

preferences. A queen consort might be

selected in part because she was

discreet and cooperative. But she might

also be appreciated for being open to

refinement, a phrase that in certain

journals refer to tolerance or even

enthusiasm for physical submission.

These journals did not use medical or

clinical language. They spoke in terms

of obedience, satisfaction, and the

preservation of private harmony. What

stands out most is how quietly accepted

it all was, provided no one tried to

make it public. In some cases, visiting

royals brought their preferences with

them. There are notes of foreign queens

asking palace staff to install special

locks on their bed posts or requesting

rooms with stone floors instead of wood.

These weren't random requests. They were

part of a routine.

Traveling with ropes and restraints

wasn't scandalous if no one asked

questions. The boundary between

performance and intimacy often

disappeared. Costumes, titles, and roles

flowed into the nightly routines. A

prince might crawl on the floor while

being spoken to like a servant. A

princess might be suspended by ropes and

asked to remain still. These were not

punishments. They were acts agreed upon,

if not always joyfully, then at least

with understanding. There is one

preserved image of a royal woman

blindfolded, her wrist tied behind her

back, standing naked next to a basin.

She was flanked by two women in robes.

The caption beneath the image described

her as awaiting renewal. There was no

shame in the text, no warning, just a

label. It was part of a personal

archive. That archive now sits in a

private European collection sealed in

glass. I can't help but wonder what

these people thought when they looked in

the mirror the next morning. For all the

attention paid to appearances in public,

what happened in private rarely matched

the polished image. Behind the jewels

and embroidered robes were ropes,

lashes, commands, and soft whimpers. Not

all of it was harmful, but not all of it

was healthy either. It was a world that

ran on both ritual and release. Most of

these stories remained inside the palace

walls. Only the staff, the scribes, and

sometimes the healers knew the full

details. But fragments survive. A line

in a diary, a drawing in the margins, a

broken whip hidden in the lining of a

chest. These fragments tell a story that

was never read aloud in court, but one

that echoed in its darkest rooms. As

another curtain closed, and a servant

quietly gathered the ropes, a different

kind of power had been exercised. Not

the power of politics or law, but the

private power of surrender.

Next, we'll look at how rituals

surrounding childbirth were often

inseparable from sex itself, with

strange customs involving midwives,

phallic charms, and forced stimulation

during labor. If some believe that

medieval royalty relied only on fine

perfumes, goldplated baths, and delicate

oils to express their desire, they would

probably not expect what was truly used

behind locked doors. Among some royal

families, bodily fluids, including

urine, played a strange role in sexual

customs. It was not a matter of hygiene.

It was not punishment. It was about

dominance, ownership, and ritual. The

idea that a body could be marked, not

with jewelry or scent, but with the raw

evidence of control, was not fiction. It

was part of private court routines. In

more than one royal household, it was

recorded that urine was not simply

waste. It was a sign of possession. Some

kings used it to mark the bodies of

their lovers. It was done behind closed

curtains, in silent rooms, and often

followed an intimate encounter. The

liquid would be poured or sprayed on the

chest, stomach, or even thighs of the

partner. Sometimes this was followed by

a bath. Other times the smell was left

to linger. The belief was simple. The

body touched by royal urine was now

bonded, sealed, and owned. It was not

meant to be romantic. It was symbolic.

It was about reminding the other person

that they belonged to the one who had

marked them. In this way, sex was no

longer just physical contact. It became

a method of labeling someone as private

property. It's hard to imagine a perfume

line today based on this principle, but

in the past, the smell of power came

with a sharp sting. Some royal women did

not resist this practice. A few queens

and noble women demanded it as part of

their rituals. In one account, a queen

is said to have asked her prince to

urinate on her lower back before

dressing for ceremonies. She believed it

brought her protection, luck, and

loyalty. The act was kept quiet but was

not hidden from her close servants. They

were the ones who prepared the floor

coverings, brought the water bowls

afterward, and lit the incense to hide

the scent. In another case, a young

noble woman was gifted a small bottle

containing dried traces of her lover's

urine. She kept it beside her mirror.

According to the record, she would tap

the bottle gently each night before

sleep. It was not science. It was a

belief. She saw it as a symbol of

connection, stronger than a ring or a

lock of hair. Modern relationships might

rely on social media passwords and

shared streaming accounts. But these

royal bonds had their own less digital

way of proving commitment. Even the

materials used to absorb or contain the

urine became special. Some couples had

fine linens prepared specifically for

the act. These linens were not thrown

away. They were dried, folded, and

stored. There are whispers that some of

them were passed down quietly or hidden

in family trunks. The smell, when too

strong, was masked using incense, myrrh,

or scented candles made with herbs like

sage or frankincense.

But the smell never completely vanished.

That was the point. A faint trace always

lingered, reminding the person of what

had happened. In one letter from a

chambermaid, she describes entering a

room that smelled like a burnt garden

mixed with something sharp and sour. She

realized later that the king had spent

the evening there with his consort, and

the marks on the bed sheets confirm the

story. Among the strangest details is

that this act was not always tied to

pleasure. It was sometimes performed

during arguments, moments of jealousy,

or after accusations of infidelity.

The idea was to reclaim the partner, to

reassert physical dominance in a way

that could not be ignored or washed off

easily. Some medical advisers in court

even claimed it had cleansing effects,

not in terms of physical health, but

spiritual clarity. These advisers

believed that the act brought submission

and focus, especially in women who were

seen as distracted or difficult. They

prescribed it like a remedy.

While not every royal followed the

advice, enough did that the record

survive. It's unsettling to think how

private humiliation could be dressed up

as healing when it came from a man in

robes. The rituals also extended beyond

the bedroom. Notes describing royal

baths that included a few drops of urine

added to the water, particularly during

fertility rights. One report even

mentions a queen being blessed with the

urine of a virgin prince before

undergoing a ritual massage. These

practices were not discussed in public,

but they were known among the inner

circles of court attendance. What

complicates these stories is the

question of consent. Did all parties

agree? Were they willing? Or was this

simply another expectation forced onto

those without power? The answer likely

varies from case to case. In some

relationships, the act was clearly

mutual. In others, it appears to have

been endured rather than chosen. There

are still preserved jars labeled in old

dialects that contain darkened stains

and sealed lids. Some historians believe

they once held the fluids of kings and

queens. Their presence in private vaults

and forgotten collections suggest that

this aspect of court life was not

isolated or rare. It was just something

that never made it into the official

portraits or royal biographies. These

stories are not often taught in school.

They live in the margins of journals,

encoded language, or in the cautious

notes of scholars who dare to explore

what royalty did outside of the throne

room. Yet, they offer a deeper

understanding of how human these people

truly were. Powerful, yes, but also

possessive, fearful, and desperate to

control what they could. And sometimes

what they chose to control was the scent

left on someone else's skin. Up next,

we'll move into the royal ritual

surrounding childbirth, where sex, pain,

and blood were mixed with candles,

charms, and the urgent pressure to

produce an heir. Some royal families did

not always rely on titles and rituals to

exercise their control. There were

moments when kings, queens, and princes

sought a different kind of experience,

one that seemed ordinary from the

outside, but was fully calculated in

intention. Instead of commanding from a

throne or issuing orders from behind

embroidered curtains, some of them put

on the garments of the people they ruled

and slipped through palace corridors

unnoticed. These weren't innocent games

of pretend. They were decisions rooted

in desire, secrecy, and power. Some

kings dressed like palace guards, not

because they had to, but because they

wanted to, wearing plain wool tunics,

rough leather belts, and sandals without

gold trim. They moved past servants and

footmen like shadows. They did not use

royal seals or heralds to announce

themselves. They preferred to walk

through the sleeping wings of the palace

at night, entering rooms without

knocking. A servant girl who had seen

the king earlier in the day, robed in

silk and shaded by peacock feather fans,

now saw a man who looked like a

stranger, quiet and commanding. His

status remained, even if his appearance

didn't. The illusion gave him something

he couldn't have in daylight. It let him

approach without being woripped. But

that didn't mean the power disappeared.

It's hard to talk about consent when the

man pretending to be a guard could have

you executed before sunrise. There are

records scattered in court documents and

private letters of young maids bearing

royal children after nights like these.

The children were not always

acknowledged, but they were not always

hidden either. Sometimes the women were

sent away. Sometimes they were married

off quietly, but the king remained

untouched. Princes followed the same

pattern. Some did it to impress each

other, bragging about how many rooms

they had snuck into. Others used it as a

way to seduce noble women already

married to their father's advisers.

Wearing a servant's cloak, a prince

could enter the chambers of a lord's

wife and act like a messenger or a

helper. What happened next often

remained a secret, especially if the

woman said nothing. If she resisted, the

prince could simply reveal his identity

and end the situation in his favor. If

she gave in, whether willingly or out of

fear, the entire matter would be buried

by mourning. In today's world, this

would be viewed as a terrifying abuse of

disguise and power. In those times, it

was seen as clever, even charming. Some

princes were praised in chronicles for

their ability to move among the people,

though the writers never explained what

those movements actually involved. It

wasn't just the men. There were queens

who felt caged inside the walls of the

palace. While their husbands were away

or distracted, some of these royal women

found ways to experience what they

believed to be freedom. One common

method was dressing as a commoner,

leaving the palace through servant

tunnels or hidden gates, and entering

the lower parts of the city. In the

darkness of night, their jewels were

replaced with fabric ribbons. Their

perfume was replaced with smoke. Their

names are never spoken. One royal woman

is said to have entered a brothel under

a false name and offered herself for

coins. The men who accepted her never

knew who she was. She returned before

dawn, escorted by a loyal handmmaid who

said nothing. The queen's behavior was

not discovered for months. When it was,

she claimed she had been seeking true

connection. Whether anyone believed her

is unclear. What is clear is that she

was not punished. If you ever wondered

whether royalty could feel anonymous,

the answer is yes, but only when they

pretended to be someone they ruled. The

need for this disguise tells us

something important.

Royal status came with control, but also

with restrictions. Every movement, every

word, every glance was watched. Stepping

out of that role, even for a single

night, gave them the illusion of

release. It didn't change the structure,

but it made them feel less trapped.

There were even rehearsals inside palace

walls. Princes practiced walking like

farmers. Queens studied how maids spoke.

Some nobles hired actors or prostitutes

to coach them in how to behave lower.

These exercises weren't meant for plays.

They were for real nights planned in

advance, where the goal wasn't safety,

but a strange version of pleasure mixed

with domination. In one shocking report,

a nobleman describes watching his wife

be approached by a man in a servant's

clothing. She hesitated but did not

refuse. Only later did he recognize the

man's face. The king himself, the

nobleman, wrote nothing to protest. He

simply noted that he could do nothing

and moved on to other events. That

journal still exists in fragments held

in a museum vault. It stands as quiet

evidence of a truth few dead speak

aloud. The boundaries between ruler and

ruled were not just crossed. They were

blurred on purpose. Royals enjoyed the

power to switch roles, knowing they

could return to their thrones whenever

they pleased. No one could stop them. No

law applied to them. And if things went

wrong, the people around them paid the

price, not them. What unsettles me is

how these disguises didn't lessen the

power, they magnified it. Pretending to

be powerless gave them even more

control. When someone with ultimate

authority chooses to act like they have

none, it isn't humility. It's a

strategy. Eventually, some of these

stories leaked into poems, songs, and

gossip. People whispered about princes

hiding in maid quarters or queens

walking among taverns.

But most accounts stayed hidden in

letters, journals, or temple archives.

They weren't meant to be remembered.

They were meant to be erased. But enough

remains to see the pattern. The need for

disguise in royal sex tells us how

deeply broken the system was. When the

most powerful people in the land had to

pretend to be powerless to feel

pleasure, something was off. These

weren't ordinary games. They were

symptoms of a culture where hierarchy

reached into the most private spaces,

where even desire needed a script, a

mask, and a locked door. The next part

will take us even deeper into the

palace's darkness, where the roles are

reversed once again, and those once

treated as tools become trophies and

sometimes sacrifices.

There were acts that even the palace did

not speak of, not because they were

crimes, but because they mixed two

things that were supposed to stay

separate. Religion and desire. For most

people in the kingdom, the idea of using

something sacred for personal pleasure

would be considered blasphemy.

But behind the doors of royal chambers,

the opposite was sometimes true. Some

members of the royal family believe that

spiritual objects could heighten their

sexual experiences.

Not only that, they thought it could

bring them closer to the divine. Inside

private rooms of queens and princes

among gold trimmed mirrors and velvet

pillows were collections of items never

meant for worship in the usual sense.

Relics brought from churches. Small

statues of saints, pieces of bone

believed to belong to holy men and even

wooden crucifixes.

They weren't displayed for guests or

stored in temples. They were used in

ways that shocked even their most loyal

servants.

Some women in the royal household kept

these objects wrapped in silk under

their mattresses. Some men had them

hidden in boxes labeled as prayer kits.

There are records of royal women using

small saint figurines as tools for

stimulation. These weren't rumors

whispered by enemies. They came from the

journals of ladies in waiting and notes

from royal physicians. A carved wooden

image of a bishop with a long staff or a

bone fragment wrapped in cloth became

more than symbolic. It became a part of

personal ritual, not a public prayer, a

private act. It's strange how something

seen as holy could be repurposed into

something so personal. Yet no one dared

stop it. The royal name alone made it

untouchable. If a commoner had done the

same, they would have been burned or

exiled. But when a queen did it, the

priest chose silence. They said nothing.

Some may have even assisted.

There were priests assigned to the

palace, men of faith who oversaw

religious education, confession, and

spiritual balance. Some of them were

fully aware of what happened behind the

curtains. They knew when a relic went

missing. They recognized when a statue

had been cleaned too often or returned

with odd stains. But they didn't report

it. Sometimes they were offered gold.

Sometimes they were told it was part of

a vision or ritual. Most of the time

they just turn their heads. One letter

from a young clergyman described walking

into a queen's chamber with a bowl of

incense. He saw her kneeling at the edge

of her bed, eyes closed, one hand

gripping a carved ivory saint. She

didn't stop. She didn't hide. She looked

at him once and then continued. He wrote

in his letter that he felt like an

intruder in both the house of God and

the house of the flesh. The letter was

hidden for decades and only found when

church archives were being moved

centuries later. In modern terms, it

would be like someone using a national

flag as a personal toy and then

expecting full respect from the public

the next morning. The difference is back

then no one could criticize. Kings were

chosen by God. Queens were seen as

divine vessels. What they did with

religious items was seen not as sin but

as mystery. Only when those mysteries

became too visible did anyone raise

concern. There were times when royal

children stumbled upon these objects and

asked questions. They were told the

relics were tools for prayer. Sometimes

those explanations were enough. Other

times the children copied what they saw,

believing it was part of becoming holy.

One disturbing account from a palace

servant tells of a young princess found

in a linen closet holding a piece of

bone to her chest, whispering words she

barely understood. Some of the relics

used were stolen from monasteries or

purchased from traveling monks. Others

were gifts from bishops hoping to win

favor. They never asked how the items

were used. They only asked whether the

king or queen was pleased. What happened

next was not their concern. The chain of

silence was thick and well-guarded.

There was also a belief in the healing

power of sacred objects when combined

with sexual release. A queen with

fertility issues once confessed to her

midwife that she had used a relic of St.

Agnes during nightly acts, hoping to be

blessed with a son. She never conceived,

but she believed the effort itself was

seen by heaven. Her logic was simple. If

God made the body and God made the

relic, then using both together could

not be wrong. To me, this shows how far

belief can stretch when mixed with

loneliness, power, and desperation.

The royals had everything. But even they

feared emptiness. Sometimes they turned

to things meant for worship to fill

spaces that nothing else could reach. It

wasn't always about pleasure. Sometimes

it was about comfort. sometimes fear.

Over time, certain priests began to

specialize in providing spiritual

objects that were slightly altered.

Relics shaped with smooth edges, statues

carved with softer curves. They claimed

it was for easier handling during

prayer, but everyone knew the design was

deliberate. It allowed for use in other

ways. These priests were never punished.

Their services were kept quiet, but in

high demand. There were storage rooms in

some castles filled with chests of

forgotten relics. When opened centuries

later, they were found alongside silk

cloths, jars of scented oil, and

handwritten notes in faded ink. These

weren't museum pieces. They were

fragments of private history, silent

evidence of what had once been routine

behind the palace walls. None of this

ever made it into the official church

records. No bishop dared write that the

queen had borrowed a saint's toebone and

returned it broken. No historian dared

describe how a carved cross had to be

replaced every month. But servants

talked. Maids whispered. Guards shared

stories over ale. And eventually some

wrote them down. What's most surprising

is not that it happened but that it was

protected so carefully for so long. No

scandal, no punishment, just silence.

That silence was more powerful than the

law. It kept the royal image intact even

when the truth was carved into wood and

bone beneath their beds. In the next

part, we'll turn from objects to rituals

again. This time to examine what

happened when sexual acts became part of

political theater, where performance was

not only expected but sometimes demanded

before a witness. Among the lesserknown

practices of medieval royalty, there

existed a dark and disturbing ritual

that few ever spoke of aloud. These

rights did not appear in public records

or grand chronicles, but instead lived

in the shadows of personal journals,

hushed whispers, and forgotten

corridors. In certain kingdoms, the

belief that one could absorb the power

or spirit of a living creature by

engaging with its body after death was

not only tolerated, it was ritualized.

The act itself was cloaked in layers of

symbolism and spiritual justification.

But when stripped of context, it

involved sexual contact with animal

corpses. Animals chosen for these rights

were not random. There were often young

and healthy specimens of goats, sheep,

or calves selected days in advance by

court priests and animal handlers. The

animals were bathed, scented with oils,

and adorned with ribbons or fabric

before being brought into the ceremonial

space. The room itself would be dark,

often lit only by oil lamps or low

candles. A brazier of burning herbs

filled the air with the scent of

frankincense or sage. masking the

underlying odor of fear and blood. When

the time came, the animal would be

sacrificed in a specific position. Its

blood was collected in silver bowls and

used to anoint ceremonial statues or

altar stones. The body was not moved. It

remained warm and still on the floor,

laid at top a thick woven rug, sometimes

marked with the royal sigil or sacred

emblems. A member of the royal family,

often a prince or princess preparing for

a fertility right, would approach the

body. The next step was rarely discussed

openly, but in some private court

documents, it was described with

alarming clarity. To anyone outside the

palace walls, what happened next would

be considered horrifying. But inside the

walls of power, it was called sacred.

The participant would kneel beside the

stillwarm animal and press their body

against it. In some cases, they were

instructed to simulate intercourse or

even perform actual penetration. The

justification given was that by making

intimate contact with the vessel of

sacrifice, one could absorb its

fertility, strength, or masculine soul.

This was especially true when the

ceremony involved a male animal chosen

to represent vility and power. One tale

that circulated for generations told of

a queen who insisted on keeping the

genitals of a black goat used in her

personal right. It was dried, perfumed,

and sealed in a red silk pouch, which

she wore around her waist on the night

of her son's conception. Servants

recalled seeing her whisper over it

before going to bed. While this may seem

like folklore, certain temple records

mentioned similar artifacts preserved in

jars and hidden in private altars. These

rituals were not always carried out

alone. A handful of trusted attendants

or priests were often present, offering

chants or musical accompaniment,

ensuring the spiritual flow remained

uninterrupted.

No one was allowed to speak plainly of

what they saw. Everything was veiled in

phrases like returning to the origin or

embracing the last breath of nature. But

even those phrases could not fully mask

the nature of the acts performed.

Compared to today's standards, these

ceremonies blur the line between

mysticism and grotesque abuse of

dominance. In medieval times, peasants

could be executed for harming livestock,

while kings and queens were allowed to

lay bear upon their corpses in the name

of fertility. These practices reinforced

a hierarchy not only of people but of

species. Animals were not just tools for

farming or food but vessels for divine

sexual energy. At least in the minds of

those who ruled.

What disturbed many in the inner circle

was not just the ritual itself but how

ordinary it became for those who

participated.

After the initial shock of their first

ceremony, some young royals began to

look forward to the rights. They felt it

made them special, chosen, even holy.

Servants whispered of princes who asked

to keep animal bones in their chambers

or to rub themselves with the ashes of

burned sacrifice remains. The silence of

the witnesses was perhaps the most

unsettling part. Chambermaids washed the

sheets, but never spoke of the stains.

Priests prepared the incense and averted

their eyes. When questions were raised

by younger or more frightened

participants, they were told to accept

the honor of continuing the bloodline.

Questioning the ritual meant questioning

the gods themselves.

Once the ceremony ended, the animal was

burned in a secluded courtyard. Ashes

were mixed with herbs and scattered in

gardens or under beds, depending on the

intended spiritual effect. The remains

of the animal were considered potent. In

some cases, they were pressed into

tablets or wax seals that were worn

during intercourse with human partners

as a way to continue the channeling. As

years passed, some rights became less

physically explicit and more symbolic.

But in the most secretive courts, the

original form endured. A stone room

beneath the palace, a still warm body on

embroidered rugs, a naked figure

kneeling beside it. These scenes

repeated across generations, carried out

in silence, protected by power, and

sanitized by religious language. It's

both sad and terrifying how easily human

dignity can be suspended when tradition

wraps itself in holiness. The royal

family was never questioned, and the

animals had no voice. What might be seen

as perverse in any other setting became

in these palaces the echo of divine

command for those involved. The ritual

was not only acceptable, it was vital.

This belief in the sacred sexuality of

beasts did not end here. The boundary

between animal and human, between death

and arousal, was blurred further in

another form of royal custom, one where

the living human body itself became the

altar. In the next chamber, beneath

flickering torch light, the final rights

of bodily surrender awaited.

There were many reasons medieval royal

families believed they had to manipulate

the act of sex itself, and not all of

them had to do with desire or dominance.

In some corners of medieval courts,

strange postures and uncomfortable

positions were not signs of pleasure,

but rituals of prevention. When a royal

woman was expected to bear a child, but

the timing was inconvenient, some kings

relied on contorted sexual customs they

believed would prevent conception. These

positions had nothing to do with anatomy

or science. They came from superstition,

and they often left behind both physical

pain and emotional confusion. Queens

were sometimes instructed to lie with

their heads tilted down, sometimes even

touching the cold stone floors of palace

chambers while their legs were tied or

suspended upwards. The belief was that

this angle would stop the seed from

reaching its destination. Whether the

queen consented was not the point. This

was her duty. The act was scheduled, the

setup was arranged, and all she had to

do was remain still and let the ritual

unfold. In some cases, two servants were

assigned to keep her ankles secured by

ropes to the wooden beams above, turning

a royal chamber into a place that felt

more like a workshop than a bedroom.

It's hard to imagine this scene and not

think of how little it resembled

anything tender or romantic. There were

no candles lit for warmth, no soft words

exchanged before or after. The queen

might be shivering, eyes focused on a

single crack in the wall, waiting for it

to end. The king, on the other hand, was

often convinced he was following divine

instructions

by manipulating gravity. He believed he

was manipulating fate. If the child did

not come, it meant the ritual had

worked. If she did become pregnant,

someone would claim she moved too soon

or the ropes weren't tight enough. What

makes this worse is that it wasn't

limited to the queen.

Young concubines, often girls under 15,

were subjected to even more bizarre

setups. There was one position referred

to in royal handbooks as the crab crawl.

It required the girl to arch backward

with hands and feet on the ground,

barely facing upward, while the king

mounted her from above. This was

supposed to ensure that no semen

remained in the correct place to cause

pregnancy. No concern was given to the

girl's comfort or health. She was there

to serve. Her back achd, her arms shook,

but no one stopped to ask how it felt.

It's almost impressive, in the worst way

possible, how much effort medieval kings

put into not learning basic biology.

Instead of understanding menstrual

cycles or fertility windows, they built

entire rituals around posture and

direction. They trusted omens and

ignored anatomy. They invented sexual

techniques that sounded more like

torture than intimacy and passed them

down as family tradition. Some kings

took their beliefs even further. They

believed that certain places had

spiritual power and that having sex in

those spaces would protect them from

karmic punishment. The altar was one

such place. While it might sound

shocking, some kings would demand that

their chosen partner lie on a sacred

platform used for worship. It could be a

stone slab in a temple, a family shrine,

or even a chamber adorned with sacred

symbols. The idea was that by mixing

divine space with carnal act, the soul

would be protected from any sin, the

body was used, but the soul remained

clean. Or so they thought. Today, people

worry about privacy and consent. Back

then, the worry was about heaven and

hell, and it justified nearly

everything. Some altars were stained,

not with wine or incense, but with

fluids from royal rituals that no one

dared to question. The priests were

often complicit. If they objected, they

risked losing their position or even

their lives.

Silence was safer, even if it meant

watching a child or a queen reduced to

an object. Witness accounts were rare.

Most of what we know comes from

unofficial records or letters that never

made it to public archives. But hints

remain. A fragment of a confession from

a servant, a crude drawing hidden in a

book margin, a complaint from a midwife

who refused to return after one visit.

The stories are scattered, but they fit

together. They tell of a time when kings

saw their bodies as instruments of

divine will and everyone else's bodies

as extensions of their authority. One

might think that with all the effort to

prevent pregnancy, kings didn't want

heirs. That wasn't true. They wanted

children, but only under the right

astrological signs, on the right lunar

day, or with the right woman. Timing was

everything. Some believed that if a

child was conceived upside down, he

would be born clever. Others feared that

a boy born of a crab crawl union would

become rebellious.

The logic shifted constantly. There was

no consistency, just fear and power.

There's something deeply unsettling

about how routine this all became. Not

just the strange positions, but the way

no one questioned them. Not the queens,

not the priests, not the doctors. It was

just how things were done. No one called

it cruelty. It was considered caution.

They did not see themselves as cruel.

They saw themselves as careful. Reading

this, I can't help but feel a quiet

horror at how normalized it all must

have felt at the time. In rooms built of

gold and marble, pain was disguised as

obedience, and fear dressed itself in

ritual. As we move forward, the next

part takes us deeper into how royal

women were expected to prepare their

bodies for these sexual acts.

Cleanliness, fertility rituals, and

spiritual grooming were just the

beginning. Inside medieval palaces,

pleasure was not always about

spontaneity.

For certain kings, intimacy had to

follow a precise pattern, and that

included wardrobe. These monarchs were

not simply aroused by the body, but by

what that body represented. The role,

the costume, the illusion. The partner

could be a concubine, a slave, or even a

noble woman. But none of that mattered

unless she wore what the king asked for.

Sometimes that meant the exact gown his

late queen used to wear. The color had

to match. The hemline had to fall at the

same angle. The scent of old perfume

clinging to the fabric had to be

present. This was not about grief. It

was about power. The body became a

stage. The bed became a theater. This

was not limited to mourning or memory.

It extended into ritual. Some kings

demanded that their partners change

costumes multiple times in a single

encounter.

The woman would enter the room in one

outfit, perform part of the act, then

pause, step behind a screen, and emerge

again dressed differently. Sometimes as

a peasant girl, sometimes as a nun,

sometimes in armor or in a dress from a

conquered land. The changes were not

random. Each had a meaning, a fantasy, a

political message. The king was not just

sleeping with someone. He was reenacting

a conquest, a reunion, a punishment, or

a temptation.

The bedroom was scripted like a morality

play. At that point, it's hard to tell

whether the king needed a lover or a

costume designer. In the royal records

that survived, there are indirect

references to closets attached to the

private bed chambers. These were not

storage rooms for food or books. They

were dressing areas full of silk,

velvet, fur, leather, and robes in

styles that match different roles in

society. Some closets had outfits sized

for women who had already died. Others

had garments designed just for sex, not

for public wear. The women who served

the king intimately had to learn how to

act as well as how to please. They

needed to walk differently, speak

differently, and know when to undress.

Some even had to learn old court dances

or gestures from a past queen's habits.

It was less about desire, more about

accuracy. One disturbing pattern

involved the repeated use of sibling

roles. There are stories where the king

insisted his partner address him by his

childhood nickname. In one case, a

concubine was dressed in the robe of the

king's sister, complete with her

childhood jewelry and embroidered shoes.

The entire scene was arranged to evoke

an earlier time when the king was not

yet ruler. The act was less about lust

and more about regaining control. He was

not making love to a person. He was

dominating a memory. Compared to modern

roleplay, this crossed into something

far more rigid and far less voluntary.

Slaves had no choice. They were trained

and dressed by other women in the herum.

They were expected to stay silent during

costume changes. Some endured these

rituals several times a week, forced to

rotate identities. One day a royal

consort, the next day a village girl,

then perhaps the image of a saint or

priestess. all under the gaze of the

king. There were times when even noble

women had to comply. If they had married

into the court from another kingdom,

they might be made to wear the clothing

of their husband's mother or former

wife. The intention was not humiliation,

but control. The king was restyling

their image to fit what he believed

royal femininity should be. In private

correspondence from some nobles who

visited foreign courts, these practices

were sometimes mentioned in code. Words

like ceremonial undressing, triple

garments, or hall of transformation hint

at how central clothing was to erotic

ritual. One letter mentions that a

certain lady had to leave the room twice

during a royal night and re-enter each

time in new attire, never saying a word.

Another speaks of a chambermaid helping

her mistress into the widow's veil

before being summoned. These details may

sound theatrical today, but they were

taken seriously at the time. They were

part of the script of obedience. It also

affected the architecture. Some palaces

had corridors leading directly from the

queen's apartments to the Taylor's room.

It was not only about public appearances

at court. It was also about what she

would wear behind closed doors.

Seamstresses worked at night to modify

gowns based on the king's instructions.

Fabrics were imported specifically for

this purpose, chosen for their softness

or sheen under candle light. Some were

even perfumed in advance. There's a

strange irony in how much effort went

into pretending to be someone else only

to serve the same man every time. There

were times when these practices blurred

the lines between fantasy and mental

obsession. In at least one case, a king

refused to bed his new wife unless she

agreed to wear a dress identical to the

one his first queen wore on their

wedding night. She resisted and the

marriage was delayed. Eventually, she

gave in, but letters reveal she never

forgot that first night, not because it

was passionate, but because she felt

erased like her role was to resurrect

someone, not to be herself. Seeing all

this, it becomes clear that these

costumes were not about beauty or

seduction. They were uniforms, tools,

extensions of royal dominance. The king

was not asking for permission. He was

dictating the terms of intimacy down to

the fabric. And for women in the palace,

this meant their worth was stitched into

seams, buttons, and hemlines.

It's difficult not to feel how

suffocating that must have been. wearing

someone else's identity just to survive

in a world where power demanded

submission in every form. Even the body

had to be dressed in memories it did not

own. As we move closer to the end of the

story, one final practice remains. It is

darker, more private, and more lasting

than fabric and fantasy. We now step

into the moment after death, where even

a royal corpse was not left in peace. In

the royal chambers, where everything

appeared refined and sacred, not even

the bed sheets were free from ritual. At

first glance, they were made of the

finest linen, handstitched by skilled

servants. But when examined closely,

some of these sheets revealed a strange

and unsettling design. In the very

center of certain royal beds, there was

a perfectly cut hole. It wasn't a flaw

or a mistake. It was intentional. These

sheets were sewn that way for a reason.

In some palaces, sexual acts between

royal couples were only allowed to occur

through that hole, with the sheet

covering the rest of their bodies. To

modern eyes, it looks more like a

theatrical magic trick than intimacy.

But for the medieval royal families, it

was about control and appearance. They

believed that even during sex, a monarch

must preserve dignity, looking into each

other's eyes, touching hands, or even

hearing a breath too close might be

considered too human, too weak. Royals

weren't supposed to show lust or

affection like commoners. So, the fabric

became a barrier, a way to separate

desire from duty. It was often said that

the bed was not for love but for

lineage. And the use of these modified

sheets reinforced that belief. A king

would lie on one side, a queen on the

other. Their bodies met only through the

opening. No kissing, no talking, no

warmth exchanged.

The act itself was stripped of pleasure,

performed like a sacred obligation. When

finished, both were expected to turn

away, clean themselves in silence, and

returned to their daily roles as rulers.

The sheet was then taken away and

cleaned, sometimes even stored as

evidence. In certain cases, these

special sheets were not just used for

one night. They were passed down like

relics. Some were embroidered with

symbols, prayers, or red thread. When a

princess was expected to marry and

consumate her union, a new sheet was

made with a small patch of red

embroidery near the center hole. This

was not for beauty. It was meant to

absorb and record her blood. The first

time of a royal bride was not just

private. It was documented and the proof

was kept. Imagine the pressure of

knowing that your wedding night would

leave a stain meant to be seen by

others. It wasn't always about joy or

union. Sometimes it was a test. Servants

were told to watch the sheets in the

morning. Elders inspected the linen for

the expected mark. If there was no

blood, the princess could be questioned.

Had she lost her virginity earlier? Was

she hiding something? Rumors could ruin

reputations.

Even when the absence of blood meant

nothing at all. The ritual of the royal

sheet went hand in hand with a culture

of silence. These acts were never talked

about openly. But everyone in the palace

knew. The servants knew. The midwives

knew. The priests knew. And still they

participated. They carried the sheets in

and out. They whispered in the

corridors.

They changed the bedding without

comment. Even if it rire of sweat,

blood, or something else entirely. It

became part of the daily rhythm of court

life. In some rare instances, these

sheets became tools of manipulation. A

noble might try to falsify the signs on

the cloth to protect a bride's honor or

to accuse an enemy's daughter. There are

accounts of red dye being dabbed onto

fabric. Some claim to have seen blood

that never came from the body. But in a

world where purity determined political

alliances, the linen on a bed could

carry more power than a royal seal.

Compared to today's privacy focused

world where bedroom matters stay behind

closed doors. This was an open secret

that everybody tiptoed around. Yet no

one spoke out. There were no protests,

no objections. Not because people didn't

feel discomfort, but because they didn't

have the space to question the system.

Intimacy for royal women especially was

never theirs to define. It belonged to

the institution, the bloodline, the

image of divine authority. Some of these

sheets survive in fragments in museums

today, yellowed with age, stitched with

fine but faded thread. They seem like

simple linens. But to a historian, they

speak volumes. They tell us about fear,

about power, about the ways in which the

body was both woripped and controlled.

Behind the palace walls, where gold

shimmerred and incense burned, sex was

not an act of love. It was a ceremony,

cold, calculated,

observed.

And so we close this journey through the

disturbing, often hidden world of

medieval royal sexuality.

From incest and necrilia to symbolic bed

sheets and forced rituals, what lies

beneath the crowns and velvet robes is

not always noble. It is raw. It is

strange. It is human in the most

uncomfortable sense of the word. These

stories are not meant to mock the past,

but to understand it. The royals

believed they were upholding divine

order. In truth, many were trapped in

roles that stripped them of genuine

connection. They lived in fear of

impurity, of scandal, of failure to

produce a worthy heir. And in that fear,

they invented rules that turned desire

into duty and love into protocol. What

haunts me most is not the violence or

the taboo, but the quiet acceptance that

surrounded it all. No one screamed. No

one ran. The palace remained calm. The

rituals continued, and the sheets kept

being changed. Tonight, as we leave

behind the cold marble halls and return

to the softness of our beds, perhaps we

can take with us one simple thought.

That history is not just made of wars

and treaties, but also of whispers in

the dark, of rituals no one questioned,

of sheets no one dared to lift. Thank

you for staying with us through this

strange and haunting journey. May your

night be free of royal burdens. May your

sleep be soft and your dreams untouched

by the shadows of the past. Good night.