Bound to a Fertility System: The Infertile King Goes Crazy

The Hall of Thrones smelled of fear and crushed lilies. Across the vast marble floor, a thousand women stood in trembling rows. Above us, the open-sky dome shimmered with the crackle of the citadel's energy barrier. Beyond the columns, the cliffs of Aethon dropped sharply into a canyon of white sea-mist.The decree had been read twice.Sixty planetary days. Conceive, or die.I did the math in my head. One king. One thousand consorts. Not a single heir in twelve years.