The Prince's Pet (3 page)

It was beautiful.
But
it would look more appropriate on someone like Atshy
e, I thought, looking
at her. I was not tall, and I had round hips and full breasts, where Atshye was
lithe and long-legged.

I’d never had so much of me
exposed before anyone else's eyes. The thought of the queen – let alone the
Prince – seeing me dressed thus was mortifying. But I had no choice in the
matter.

Atshye sensed my uncertainty and
smiled knowingly. “Trust me.” She said, as she bent and slipped delicate
leather sandals on my feet.

She brushed my hair until it
shone, curling it gently with her fingers and leaving it falling over my
shoulders. “I will not put it up,” she explained. “I want them to see.”

“I'm not to wear jewelry?” I
asked her, as she slipped her own bracelets back on. Perhaps she’d forgotten.

She furrowed her brow as though
confused, and pulled her robe around her, settling it over her shoulders.
“No...” she said, stretching out her arms to display her golden bands. “These
are all gifts. All given to me by my Mistress. This is how we display our
status in the Palace. Your Prince must gift you such things, if he approves of
you.”

“Oh. I see.”

I looked at myself in the mirror
one final time as Atshye took my arm, and led me from the room. Even to my own
eyes, I looked lost and terrified.

The queen sat on a cushioned
daybed in her receiving room, taking food from a young slave girl who held out
a platter. A young woman sat on the marble step of the dais working on an
embroidery hoop. She was not dressed quite as richly as Atshye, with none of
the jewelry, and wore a silver collar. Two guards stood unobtrusively against
the wall behind them, one on either side, staring straight ahead.

Queen Indari was a handsome
woman of forty-some years, with an olive complexion and dark hair just
beginning to gray, caught up in a jeweled hair-net and topped with a thin
golden circlet. In her blood-red gown, with jeweled rings on every finger and
only her eyes visible above an opaque red veil, she was just as intimidating as
I had imagined.

Atshye bowed low and spoke to
her in Cimbrai, without waiting to be addressed. Then she looked at me, and put
her hand on the small of my back, pushing me forward. I let out a little gasp
as I stumbled, unprepared for the rough treatment.

“Kneel before the queen, slave!”
Atshye barked at me. Shocked, I quickly did so, sinking to my knees and bowing
my head. After a long moment of silence, I grew anxious, and couldn't resist
raising my eyes.

The queen was staring at me. She
took a bite out of the berry she held delicately between her fingers, and took
her time to chew and swallow. “Ah,
eai
,” she said, after she had
finished.
Yes
.

I didn't comprehend the exchange
that followed as they spoke too quickly, but caught the word
Thessian,
and Ellys' name. The queen then turned a withering gaze on me, and spoke slowly
and deliberately. This time, I understood. “A peasant, by her manner.”

I swallowed hard, my heart
hammering in my chest. Was I doing something wrong? I didn't know how you were
supposed to bow to royalty – I'd never done it before.

“Will she suffice, my Lady?”
Atshye asked.

The queen gave an order and
Atshye touched my shoulder. "The queen bids you stand, girl.” She
translated. “Let's have a look at you.”

I couldn’t stop my legs from
trembling, but I tried to stand gracefully, keeping my eyes lowered.

Whatever she saw, it must have
satisfied her because the queen quickly made a noise of assent. “Fine.” She said,
in a dismissive tone. I looked up, unsure whether or not to be relieved. She
waved at one of the guards, who nodded brusquely and approached. She gave him
orders and he bowed and unhooked an object from his belt.

The guard approached me with
what I now saw was a golden collar – like the one Atshye wore, except there was
a fine coil of chain attached. His face was expressionless as he fitted it
around my neck, the metal cold when it fell against my skin. He quickly locked
it in place, then took the chain and yanked on it, pulling me after him as he
approached Indari’s dais and sank to one knee. He held the end of my chain up
before him, presenting it to the woman. 

Up close, I could smell her
flowery perfume. I avoided her gaze as she took the chain and shortened it in
her hands, pulling me closer as she looked at me carefully.

The feeling of being led by the
throat as though I were a dog on a leash was humiliating - as was obviously the
intention. Tears stung my eyes and not for the first time I fervently wished I
were anywhere else but here. This woman, Queen Indari, was vicious. I knew it
as surely as I knew my own name, and I couldn't wait to be away from her.

As I reached the edge of the
dais she tugged sharply, pulling me up the step so that I stood right in front
of her. She gave me an order.

Atshye walked up beside the
queen, leaning a hand on the arm of her couch. “Kneel and await your Prince.”
She translated, pointing at the floor.

I did so, sinking to my knees.
Atshye clicked her tongue at me, and told me to face her, to bow my head, and
rest my hands on my lap palms down. I corrected my position at each order,
trying to force myself into the numbness I'd embraced earlier and not quite
managing. I was trembling, terrified for myself and the unknown of what was
about to happen to me.

As Queen Indari and her maids
talked among themselves, I waited. And waited.

My knees began to ache from the
cold marble of the floor and my neck hurt from my bowed position. I tried to
listen to their conversation and pick up what I could from it, in an attempt to
distract myself. Cimbrai wasn't hard to learn - it had similarities with
Thessian, and the neighboring Geonaic, of which I knew enough to barter at
market. But the speed at which they conversed caused me to quickly become lost.

As time went on I had to fight
the urge to move. I peeked up through my lashes, raising my head the tiniest
amount, and saw Atshye staring at me. Her eyes widened just a little, and she
shook her head, silently warning. A tiny sense of relief - she was still my
ally. I let my head bow once more, trying to relax.

I began to count to myself,
trying to distract from my aching, twitching muscles and my urge to stretch. A
thousand itchy places had suddenly cropped up on my body. A strand of hair had
fallen over my eye and tickled my eyelashes, and I had to resist the desire to
brush it out of my face.

The doors were flung open, and
the women fell silent. The maid on the dais rose to her feet and scampered off,
and Atshye moved to stand out of the way.

With difficulty I kept my eyes
on my hands, listening as what sounded like a great many men entered the hall.
They approached and I could see them at the edge of my vision. I could tell
they were armored and carried weapons, but more than that I couldn’t make out.

Indari got slowly to her feet
and stood on the edge of her platform, holding her arms outstretched. She spoke
a greeting in Cimbrai though her tone wasn't particularly warm. I felt the tug
on my chain as she stepped down from the dais and turned my head, wondering if
I should stand - but she wasn't paying any attention to me. I stayed where I
was, but now that my head was turned I couldn't resist looking at the
newcomers.

They were about fifteen men, led
by a tall, imposing man with a long dark beard. He was well-groomed, his long
hair clean and restrained at the nape of his neck. He was dressed in iron armor
while the rest of the men wore predominantly leather, and he held his helmet
under his arm. I guessed that he was the leader of these soldiers.

The man strode forward and took
the queen's hands, bowing briefly to kiss her long fingers. Was this the
Prince? He looked older than I'd expected - but perhaps his mother had birthed
him young, or I'd misjudged her age. I surreptitiously gazed at him. He was
handsome enough, and he looked like her - even down to the staid,
expressionless demeanor.

The two spoke, too quickly for
me to understand, but suddenly another voice interrupted. As I turned my head
slightly to watch, another, younger man pushed through the soldiers. He was not
quite as tall as the towering captain, but still impressive - as were all of
them.

He stood before the queen,
ignoring the captain,  and sketched a bow which was either greatly reverent or
sarcastic - I couldn't quite tell. Then he took off his helmet.
"Step-Mother," he said by way of greeting.

This made me pay attention. My
eyes widened as I looked at him. Was this then, my new master - or some
half-brother?

This man had golden-brown skin
where the queen was paler, and his eyes were a lighter brown, set in a strong,
angular face. He was disheveled, covered in travel-dirt, and his jaw was
covered in the stubble of many days on the road. His black hair fell just below
his shoulders, a few strands escaping from its leather tie to fall in front of
his face.

My breath quickened and my lips
parted as I watched him. I was quite sure I'd never seen anyone so exotic and
handsome. As surely as I had hated the queen on meeting her, I was drawn to
him. He stayed in his bowed position until the queen sighed heavily and
acknowledged him, then he stood with a wry grin.

I didn’t follow their
conversation, only watched Prince Issander as they talked. There seemed to be
little warmth between them. In fact, as they continued their voices became more
strained, until I could practically feel the venom radiating down the chain
between me and the queen’s perfectly manicured hand.

At last, they stopped talking
and merely stared at one another. After a long moment she waved at the captain,
dismissing him and his men.

As soon as the door had closed
behind the last of them, she gave a sharp jerk on my leash, snapping me out of
my daze. I immediately averted my eyes from the pair, staring instead at my hands
where they rested in my lap. My heart skipped a beat then settled into a
fluttering rhythm, and I tried not to tremble as their attention turned on me.

“I have a gift for you.” The
queen said, her tone turning syrupy-sweet.

I caught my breath. Yes - this
was him. I knew he was looking - I imagined I could feel the Prince’s eyes as
they bore into me, and felt my face grow hot as I flushed.

“What is this?” He said after a
long moment.

She answered with an
explanation; the only part I caught was
Thessian slave
. And she handed
over my leash, placing it in his hands. I felt the movement of it tugging on my
collar, and resisted the urge to raise my hand to the metal ring. “Stand,
slave,” Queen Indari said, and Atshye repeated it in my language, though I had
understood.

My breath caught, a shock of
anxiety coursing through me, and I hastened to obey. I had to work hard to get
my stiff legs to move, the pain of my cramped muscles making me bite my lip. I
almost thought I might faint from fear and weakness, and I was less than
graceful as I rose. I stood with my hands clasped before me, fingers locked so
tightly I could feel them losing circulation.

Atshye had come around behind
me, perhaps in case I had trouble getting up. She stood tall beside me with her
hands folded serenely over her stomach. “Raise your eyes, foolish girl!” she
told me in Thessian, without prompting. “Behold your new master.”

I lifted my chin and faced him,
looking into his eyes. At any other time his expression might have been
comical. He looked bemused - staring at me with one eyebrow raised and my chain
held before him, dangling from his hand as though he didn’t know what to do
with it.

Everyone was silent, the tension
palpable. I didn’t know if I was expected to speak, but watching the Prince as
he looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on the transparent cloth barely
covering my chest, the strangest urge came over me: I wanted to do something to
make him notice me. I wanted to please him.

“I am most honored to serve you,
my Prince.” I said. I didn’t know if he could understand me, but it was too
complicated a sentiment for me to express in his language. Briefly, I
considered kneeling again, but I didn’t think my exhausted legs could take it.
I contented myself with bowing my head low, letting my hair fall to curtain my
face.

I looked up again when I heard
Indari spit furious words. Cringing, I almost took a step back to avoid her
glare.

Atshye leaned into me, and
grabbed my arm to prevent my retreat. Her nails dug into my flesh as she translated.
“You will not speak before being spoken to!” She scolded, echoing the words of
the queen. “No one cares what pleases you! You will not refer to yourself this
way. You-”

“
Edanna
!” The word cut
through the womens’ admonitions.
Enough
. I looked up to see Issander
take the chain firmly in his hand, closing his fist around it as though
claiming it finally. He lowered his voice, but it was still a growl as he spoke
to her in Cimbrai. His expression was dark and his lip curled in a snarl. As
the queen stared at him indignantly, Atshye was kind enough to translate for
me, speaking close to my ear. “Very well. She is mine. I will tell her what to
do,
not
you!”

He began to shorten the chain,
curling it around his arm. I couldn’t help but notice how strong and
well-defined that arm was, bulging against the cloth of his sleeve where it was
uncovered by leather armor. I followed the leash, stepping closer to him until
he held it with a few hand-spans between him and my collar. This close, I could
smell him - it was the scent of dust and sweat, horse and smoke. And I could
see how the muscle under his jaw tightened and twitched with irritation.