Authors: Alexia Wiles
Tags: #Historical romance, #Fantasy Romance, #BDSM, #Erotica, #erotic romance, #slave, #billionaire, #sex slave, #reluctant romance, #reluctant
When I looked up she was
watching me, her eyes unreadable.
At least she does not look about to devour
me.
“My handmaiden tells me you have
taken ill.”
It was the first time she had
spoken to me directly, without a translator between us. The first time I had
been able to understand her well enough.
I blinked, my mouth dropping
open. I searched for the Cimbrai words, taking my time over the syllables.
“I... yes, Majesty. I don't know what came over me. If you want me to go back
-”
She cut me off, holding up an
impatient hand. “That is not why I am here. I want to ask you something.
Well... offer you something, really.”
I kept my eyes politely down.
Suspicion crept over me, and I realized I was trembling. I felt as though I'd
been transported back to my first day here: a virginal peasant girl frightened
of everything. S
he is being civil.
I told myself.
Do not think the
worst of her.
“Yes, my queen?” I managed to
say.
Indari moved, taking a few
delicate steps toward the round table and laying a hand on the back of a chair,
caressing its wood. “You were not born a slave.” She said. Her tone rose on the
last word, as though it were half a question.
I shook my head. “No, my queen.
I was... a farmer's daughter.”
“Would you like to go back to
your home, Eveline?”
It was so abrupt it felt like a
slap in the face. For a moment I couldn't form words to answer. “My... what?” I
finally said, forgetting my manners once again.
“Well you
must
desire
your freedom,” she said, cocking her head at me. “So recently taken from your
home, your family and your old life.”
“I have no family left -” I
began.
“Then... make a new life for
yourself!” She said, exasperated. I couldn't help but flinch as she waved her
arm, trailing red silk.
“I can give you as much gold as
you can carry. A fast ship and the best guards to escort you back to your home
land.”
She took a step closer to me,
narrowing her eyes as she tried to determine my reaction. As she saw my doubt
and confusion she tried a different approach. “Or I can set you up with a house
in some far away city. Servants of your own, and an income. You will be set for
life!”
Queen Indari stood before me
now, and I saw that she was only as tall as I was. Why had I always thought she
was taller? There were faint lines around her beautiful dark eyes, peering over
her veil. Looking into them now I thought I saw fear - or something like it.
I had no doubt she was sincere
in her offer, selfishly motivated though it surely was. A queen had her own
wealth; her own influence. It would cost her practically nothing to be rid of
me. I could be free.
I bowed again, showing respect.
“My queen,” I said slowly, trying to articulate my thoughts. “I thank you very
much for the kind offer.”
She lowered her head, her eyes
closing briefly as she sensed her defeat.
“But I love my prince very much
and I would not leave him.”
Indari drew herself up,
recovering quickly. “Very well.” She said, turning with a swirl of her robes.
“Your Majesty...” I said, as she
was reaching for the handle of the door.
She looked toward me without
turning, giving me a moment to say my piece.
“He intends to take care of
you,” I said. “No matter what happens.” I did not need to elaborate.
Indari was quiet for a moment,
then gave a tiny nod. “Do not tell anyone I was here.” She said, then left,
closing the door quietly behind her.
––––––––
M
y unsettled stomach was made no
better by the queen's visit. I called for a bath and sat in the steaming water,
breathing deeply and trying to regain my composure. But I didn't get the usual
pleasure out of it. Naked, I settled into the prince's bed - for he allowed me
to sleep there whenever I wanted - and closed my eyes.
I dozed fitfully. As the hours
wore on I woke up many times, hearing footsteps go by the door, or the entry of
servants to light fires or take laundry. Some kind soul left me a plate of
bread with leftovers from the feast in case I was hungry.
Truthfully, I waited for my
master. It was late. Where was he? My mind was filled with images of him -
dallying with the girls in the feasting hall, perhaps drinking a little too
much.
I should have stayed to take
care of him. But I could barely stand the thought of him looking at other
women, let alone watching it.
I need to get used to the idea
, I told
myself over and over.
I prayed to Iele, getting out of
bed to kneel, my forehead against the floor - to pour my heart out to the
goddess.
Give me strength
, I prayed.
I need to be strong to serve
him, no matter what comes
.
As I knelt there I finally heard
the door open and Issander's footsteps approach.
“Are you well?” He asked. Then:
“What are you doing?”
I heard the amusement in his
tone, and I blushed, thinking of the view he must have gotten of my naked
backside. I got to my feet. “Praying.” I murmured, giving him a shy smile in
spite of myself.
He raised his eyebrows.
"You have an interesting way of going about it. Is that a Thessian
custom?”
Just having him here made me
feel better. He came toward me and I melted against him as he embraced me.
“What are you praying for?” He
asked, stroking my hair.
I stiffened a little in his arms
and hesitated for a moment before answering. “...Strength.”
His hands roamed down and rested
at the small of my back, and I rested my head against his chest.
“What for?” He asked.
“So that I can survive watching
as you choose your bride, and get married, and live together in harmony
forever.”
He snorted a laugh. Then he put
his hands on my shoulders and held me away from him. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, I raised my eyes to
his. I knew I looked a mess. My kohl would be smudged all over my face and my
hair was tangled from tossing and turning in my pursuit of sleep.
The smile faded from his face.
“Eveline, none of that is happening tonight.”
“But it will happen.”
“Don't you want me to marry?”
“I...” I swallowed hard. “It's
not for me to say, my Lord.”
“I asked you a question.”
I sighed. “Of
course
I
don't want you to get married, my prince. But I understand you must. I do.”
“Because you know I could never
marry you. You are a slave, and foreign -”
I could feel my face crumble,
and the tears immediately started spilling from my eyes. “Of course I know
that!” I said, raising my voice in frustration. Did he think I was so stupid?
But it still hurt.
He didn't say anything else, but
picked me up and carried me to the bed, where he sat me in his lap and held me
tightly. I cried silently against his neck for a while, feeling small and
fragile in his arms.
“Oh my Eveline,” he said softly.
“You know that I love you.”
I sobbed a laugh, the tears
coming all over again even as warm happiness bloomed in my chest. It mixed with
the misery, adding to the sickness I felt. I clutched at him, and we were
silent for a long time.
Afterwards, he did punish me –
both for leaving the banquet and for my dissembling.
He made me bend over a couch and
count out lashes of the soft leather whip he had had made for me. I spilled my
heart as I'd known I would; then I begged him to take me. We made urgent love
right there on the soft rug in his bed chamber, not even making it as far as
the bed.
––––––––
I
felt purged of my misery for
the moment, and managed to keep myself occupied during the next few days. I
read and practiced writing, spent time in the harem where the slaves would
bathe me and massage me into relaxation.
A time or two, I slipped them
something valuable – giving one of my hair ornaments to a young girl I'd taken
a liking to; a book to another when I found out she was learning to read.
I gave the younger slaves treats
whenever I encountered them. Inexpensive candies, sweet cakes. I thought my
master must have known, but he said nothing.
Issander did not ask me to serve
him at the feasts again. I felt guilty that he had to do without me because of
my own jealous reaction, but it was kind of him to try to spare my feelings. He
always returned home after and we slept as ever, entwined in each others arms.
One such night we were awakened
by a servant – not a slave but one of the physician's assistants - banging on
the door. Issander left, rushing out, and I hurriedly dressed and paced
nervously around the room. There was only one reason for such a rude
interruption from the physician. The king.
As I picked at my breakfast
tray, worrying, the assistant thumped on the door again.
When I opened it, he didn't wait
for me to speak. “The prince has called for you to attend him in the king's
chambers.”
I hurried after the young man,
picking up my skirts as I tried to match his pace. When we arrived he opened
the door for me, bowing, and I entered.
Issander sat in the chair by his
father's bedside. The king lay in bed, his frail body all but swallowed by the
pillows surrounding him. As the assistant bowed out and gave us privacy, I
moved to their side.
“They said it will not be long
now,” Issander murmured. I put my hand on his shoulder.
He looked at me, and held out an
object. It was a wooden box, ornately carved. “He wanted to give it to you. But
he's... fallen asleep.”
I took the box. It was heavy in
my hands. I stared down at the poor king. His breathing was shallow and rapid.
After a moment, he took a deep breath and seemed to awaken from his sleep. He
opened his eyes, and looked at his son, then at me.
His mouth crinkled in a small
smile. “Ysobel.” He said, happiness lighting his face.
I blinked. It took me a moment
to place the name. Open-mouthed, I looked over at my master, who appeared as
stunned as I.
Looking back down at the king, I
smiled at him, then stepped forward and bent to make a low curtsey in the
Thessian style. Then I took his hand from the sheet where it lay and held it
gently in mine, clutching the wooden box to my chest.
“I missed you.” The old man
said.
I only smiled, fighting off
sudden tears. I did not want to speak and ruin his illusion.
Soon, his attention turned from
me again and he haltingly moved his head to look at Issander. “Son,” he said,
and the prince leaned forward to put a hand on his father's brow. His face was
full of concern. I loved him for it.
The king's expression turned
urgent. “I have something to tell you.” He said, pulling his hand from my grip
and reaching for his son.
“It's alright father. Save your
strength.” Issander said. When the old man didn't stop reaching, he stood and
took his hand, holding it between his own.
I moved aside, giving them
space, and turning away to give myself time to master my own emotions.
“I have to tell you something.”
The king repeated. He took a deeper breath. “Marry who you damn well want.”
Issander smiled, furrowing his
brow in a puzzled expression. “But -”
“Or don't marry at all!” The old
man interjected. “You're the king.” He paused, to take several breaths before
speaking again. “The realm will get by. It always does.”
I turned around, holding my hand
against my mouth to disguise my trembling lips. Issander was bending over his
father to kiss his brow.
When the old king had fallen
asleep, his quick breaths too loud in the quiet chamber, I kissed my master on
the top of his head. “I will come back if you call for me.” I said, and left,
giving them privacy.
It was well into the day when he
arrived back at his rooms, and with one look at his face I knew it was over.
T
he old king was laid to rest
among much ceremony. I stayed by my master's side through it all, despite
whispers and stares. I was quite popular as a novelty among the nobles but that
didn't stop them gossiping when I took more than an ornamental role.
When the heir to the throne
appeared briefly in public on the way to the Great Temple where the king laid
in state, the common folk lined the streets to get a glimpse of him. They
noticed me accompanying him, and soon I was being approached by all sorts of
people on my trips into the city. Wealthy and poor alike, I stopped to talk to
them, to the dismay of my guards.
They somehow knew I counted
myself among the servants of Iele. Women would ask me to pray for them,
spilling the most intimate of marital issues. I would blush furiously, but
Atshye took delight in this, openly dispensing her advice to peasants and
noblewomen in the streets.
My master was occupied with
matters of state, so I spent a lot of time in the temple. When he did have
time, we would ride out together just to get away from the busy palace and its
never-ending duties.
Relatives, vassals and various
courtiers were still in residence, more coming and going all the time. The
palace was abuzz with preparation: In two weeks, Issander Elias Nabih an
Esstair would be crowned as king.
––––––––
I
t was something of a holy day
for worshipers of the Lady of Desire. I begged leave to go early to the temple.
I wanted to make an offering.
Iele was said to love all things
beautiful. With this in mind I had purchased two snow white doves at the market
the day before. I went just after dawn in order to find the temple quiet.
Kneeling before the statue of
the goddess, I set the small cage on the ground. I said my prayer under my
breath, for my goddess' ears only.
I let the doves free. They flew
up to the big window and perched there. The wind ruffled their feathers, and in
a moment the first one flew out – then the other.
Ellys came to the temple for his
offering soon after. I waited for him in the garden, and when he finished he
came to talk to me.
“What do you mean,” I asked him,
“when you say that the goddess sent you to me?”
The eunuch smiled his enigmatic
smile. “Just that.” He said.
“But why?” I had never had much
tolerance for cryptic answers.
He shrugged. “It remains to be
seen.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because,” he said,
matter-of-factly. “I heard her voice, and I answered.”
I sighed, sinking down to rest
on the edge of the fountain pool.
Ellys sat next to me. “Perhaps
it was your fate, to serve the prince – to bring him happiness.” He said, “Or
maybe it has something to do with the child you have growing within you.”
“What?” I spluttered,
unwittingly moving a hand over my abdomen as though shielding myself. My face
burned hot, and I looked away. “I am not -”
He patted my shoulder and gave
me a knowing look. “Do not worry. My discretion is legendary.”
––––––––
A
n hour later, I stood at the
dresser in the bedchamber, removing bracelets from my wrists one by one.
“What are you doing?” My master
asked, coming up behind me and putting his hands on my hips.
I looked up to see him in the
mirror, and smiled ruefully. “I don't feel right wearing them.”
“My father gave them to you.”
“He didn't know me. He thought I
was his Ysobel.” I murmured, spreading my left hand and looking at the rings
that adorned each finger. The bracelets and rings had come from the wooden box
bequeathed to me by his father. I knew Issander liked to see me wearing them,
but I was hesitant.
“He liked you.”
“Mmm.” I murmured
noncommittally. I turned and stood on the tips of my toes to kiss him.
It was to be one of our last
evenings in this room; soon he would move to his father's old quarters and take
over many new duties. It was strange to think of it.
“I have been thinking on the
other things he spoke of.” Issander said, twirling my hair around his hand as
he often liked to do.
“Yes?” I took him by the hand,
leading him to the bed as he spoke, and he followed absent-mindedly.
He nodded, sitting down, and I
sat next to him. “Yes.” He said solemnly.
Suddenly I sensed the serious
direction the conversation was about to take. A sense of foreboding took hold
of me and I held my breath, my hand absently fidgeting with my golden collar.
Issander's eyes followed my
movement. “I want to free you.” He said.
I hadn't expected it. My lips
fell open, but I forgot what I was about to say. “D... do you not want me
anymore?” I finally squeezed out, as my heart thrummed in my chest.
My prince laughed. I furrowed my
brow in frustration. This was no laughing matter, as far as I was concerned.
But he bent forward to cup my
face between his hands, tilting it up towards his. “Of course I want you.” He
said, his eyes shining with affection. “But I want you
free
, so that you
can be my concubine.”
I stared at him,
uncomprehending. “What?” Finally, I shook my head, managing to free myself from
his grasp.
He let me go, putting his hands
down. “Do you not know what that means?”
“No, not really. What... what
does it mean?”
“It means you will no longer be
a slave. You can have property and wealth. Your children will be acknowledged
as my children. You can live with me and accompany me to royal affairs.”
I felt the tell-tale sting of
tears in my eyes and blinked hurriedly.
My children.
“And... when you
marry?”
Taking my hands in his, he held
them tightly together as he looked into my eyes. He must have seen the tears
forming there. He always seemed to know what I was thinking. “Eveline,” he said
tenderly. “If I could take you as my wife, I would.”
I smiled. It was nice of him to
say. “I don't need to be your wife.” I said. “I am happy just to be yours –
concubine or slave. I will try... I will try to accept your marriage with
grace, my Lord.”
“You misunderstand me.”
“I do?”
He nodded. “You and I can not be
wed, but you can be mine in the eyes of the gods. You will be my wife in all
but title. That is all I care about. I want no other. I will take no other.”
Happiness filled me, even as I
tried to suppress it. Surely, this was not possible. I stared down between us;
at my pale hands held between his darker fingers. “Your vassals will not be
happy.”
He shrugged, uttering a short
laugh. “Let them keep believing I will eventually marry. The realm will
endure.”
I had more objections, questions
and arguments, but he stalled them with a kiss.
Free. I would be free.
“I want to keep the collar.” I
murmured, when we broke apart for breath.
He raised an eyebrow.
“I am yours.” I explained,
pleading with my eyes. “I don't want things to change between us.”
Issander laughed, and gathered
me up, pulling me to sit on his lap. “Well,” he said, “some things
will
change. But you and I... we will be the same, I promise you.”
––––––––
Q
ueen Indari, still in mourning,
left to stay for a time with her daughter and son-in-law. The couple had three
children and another on the way, and ostensibly needed help with managing their
home. It was of course a smaller palace, but a palace still, and they would
keep her in comfort.
The old king's concubines were
sent off to the Old Harem – a palace on a lake where they would have servants
and guards to take care of them. They would live the rest of their lives in
luxury there, but never be free to remarry. I couldn't help but think it was a
bit of a sad fate.
Two days before Issander's coronation
we held a small ceremony in the gardens of the palace temple. I, Eveline Farmer
an Iele became the concubine of my master before the eyes of the gods.
The bond was sacred – as the
new king's concubine I - and my children - had the right to the protection,
support and affection of my master. In return I was to love no other and serve
him in every way.
As he'd said, nothing changed
between us.
That very night, while we were
still recovering from the excitement and the hungry love-making that had followed,
I grew silent. We were in bed, the room still lit by the gentle glow of the
lanterns. I sat upright against my pillows and looked down at my prince, biting
my lip hard.
“What is it?” He asked, weary
but indulgent. He took my hand and kissed it, supporting himself on his elbows.
“I have to tell you something.”
He heard my tone and sat up,
looking concerned.
I put my hand on my neck, where
my collar had been, and was shocked again to find it not there. “Two
somethings, really...” I murmured.
“What is it?” He was stern now,
wary.
“Please do not be mad...” I
began. “The only reason I didn't tell you earlier is because of everything that
happened all at once-”
“Eveline.” He growled, warning.
“The queen... before the king
died, she approached me, offering me my freedom.”
The silence between us was
palpable, and when I looked at Issander I could see that little muscle in his
jaw tense.
Now the words came rushing out.
“She wanted to send me back home to Thessia, but I told her I would not leave.
She told me not to tell anyone, but you are my master, and I am very sorry I
didn't tell you sooner, my Lord.” I bit my lip again, fearing his answer.
“That... witch!” He spat, a wild
look in his eye.
I put a hand on his arm, gently.
“I think she is a very bitter woman,” I said slowly, “but I do think she
believed she was doing the right thing. She saw how we felt about each other,
and it worried her.”
“She probably would have dumped
you in the ocean.”
Smiling at his concern, I
reached up to stroke his face. I loved feeling the rough stubble that lined his
jaw. “I do not know. But please my love, do not worry about it now.”
Issander looked at me, his anger
slowly fading. Then he furrowed his brow, tilting his head warily. “What's the
other
thing you have to tell me?”
For a moment, I had almost
forgotten. I took a deep breath. “Did you mean it,” I asked quietly, “when you
spoke of our children?”
“Yes, of course.” He blinked,
nonplussed.
“And you
want
children?”
He uttered a short laugh. “Of
course!”
“I
am
sorry I didn't tell
you...” I mumbled, wringing my fingers together. “I didn't know what to do at
first, when I was only a slave. When you spoke of freeing me, I did not want to
influence your decision. And I don't care if my children ever inherit, really I
don't -”
“Eveline!” He said, raising his
voice until it was almost a shout. Then he paused. “Are you saying... what I
think you're saying?”
I nodded.
I don't know what I'd expected,
but it wasn't this. Issander laughed triumphantly and crushed me to him,
dragging me from the bed and swinging me around. He lifted me off my feet, and
I laughed dizzily.
“A father! I'm going to be a
father?”
“A king and a father both.” I
confirmed, happiness filling me up and threatening to bubble over. My eyes
stung, brimming with tears.
He kissed me deeply.
A moment later, he rushed over
to the dresser, leaving me breathlessly laughing, naked on unsteady feet. He
picked something up, hiding it behind his back. “I forgot something, too.” He
said. “But I have to give it to you now.”
“What is it?” I smiled,
playfully trying to peek behind his back.
He looked at me, mock-stern.
“Close your eyes and stand still.”
“But
Master
...” I whined.
Issander raised his eyebrows.
Knowing better than to tempt fate, I closed my eyes and stood obediently still.
He walked behind me and I felt
his hands on my neck, warm against my skin. Then I felt the unmistakable
coolness of metal, as something closed around my throat. It hugged close
against my neck, and I raised my hand to feel it.
“Open your eyes.” Said my
prince, placing his hands on my shoulders.
I did.
“I had it made especially for
you. I thought you might want it. And it... it would please me if you'd wear
it. But you don't have to.”
Flat links of gold lay perfectly
against my skin, and in the middle a single diamond. A beautiful collar.
I met his eyes in the mirror.
They shined brightly, as brimming with emotion as my own. “It's perfect.” I
whispered.
He sighed heavily, with
something that seemed like relief. Then his arms came around me, and he picked
up something from the dresser. My hair brush, with its wide flat back.
“Perfect.” He agreed, turning me
around and looking down at me with his wicked grin. “Now then... get up on the
bed. On all fours, my girl.”
I shivered in pleasure, knowing
what was coming.
“You kept secrets from me, and I
am going to have to punish you.” He bent to speak close to my ear. “...Gently.”
He added.
And he did.