Isola had been left chained to the wall all through the night. This was a new cell, larger than the one in the dungeon, and cleaner. She was even given a small pallet to sleep upon, though she could not do so now. Her wrists were shackled just below the narrow window of her cell, held above her head, she was forced to crouch, the chains too short to allow her to comfortably sit.
She wept as her mind ran through her first lesson with the Damdren King. The first of many, she was sure. Her body ached from the cropping she'd received. The place between her legs throbbed in pain... and something else. She could not understand why her body responded to her torture like that. She couldn't possibly like the pain, yet when she remembered the feeling of the crop flicking her sensitive nipples or running over her slit she shuddered and blushed.
She drifted into an uneasy sleep pressed against her cell wall, her arms growing sore from their bondage. She watched the sun sink in her bouts of wakefulness, darkness growing in her chamber. One of the women who'd taken her there came in at one point to light the torches. Apart from that she saw no one. She heard the stomp of boots going past her door, the chuckles of men as they went about their evening, other doors open and close, yet she remained alone. No one brought her dinner, and by the time the sun crept up into the world again she was feeling her strength wane.
Her eyes snapped open as the sound of a key scraping in the lock of her cell door broke her solitary silence. From the angle of the light in her cell she would guess it was well past midday.
"You're in for a treat today" a guard she'd never seen before sneered as he stepped into her cell. She shrunk against the wall as he loomed over her, all too aware of the whip at his waist, and the dagger at his side.
The guard followed her eyes to his whip and chuckled "No, girl. You think the king would let his guards have all the fun? If you're in for a whipping it'll be by his hand." he saw fear flash through her wide eyes and smirked. "Yes, not sure if that should be a relief or not." he said, unchaining her from the wall, though quickly chaining her wrists together before leading her out of her cell.
She was dragged through the castle, led up winding stairs and through wide passages until she stood before enormous black doors. Two guards stood on either side, and at her arrival threw the doors open. Inside was a large room, a long table at the center filled with soldiers, and the king sat at the head, advisors bearing stacks of parchment surrounded him. Everyone looked up at the sound of the doors swinging open.
"Ah, our bride to be is here. Thank you Tredik. You may unchain her and go." he said, taking in his captive once more, she stood with less pride today, her head down instead of tall above her -- a sign that her rough night had done its job. Turning back to the guard he said "There are some new prisoners in the dungeons, fresh from a raid on Graiken. Find yourself one for your trouble." He enjoyed the look of horror that spread across Isola's face at this comment.
"Thank you, m'lord." the guard replied, unchaining the girl before dropping to his knee and leaving the room.
"Well, princess, we've just been discussing you. Come and see the marriage contract we've received from your kingdom." he said, smirking as she closed her eyes, steeling herself for the fact that this truly was happening. When she didn't start to walk towards him the king snapped his fingers, a guard coming from the side of the wall came forward and slapped her sharply across the face, laughter coming from the table as her cheek reddened. "I said come, pet. You really must work on doing as you're told. Now come here."
Isola blinked to hold back tears from the pain radiating from her cheek. As she walked down the table she felt all the men's eyes on her, taking in her body, every curve on display in the thin silky gown she was given. She cursed the coolness of the room for making her nipples stand at attention, straining against the soft fabric which seemed to tease her nipples with every step she took. She made it to the end of the table, and stood by the king's side. Her heart ached as she saw the parchment in front of him. She knew that hand, it was written by her father's advisor, signed and stamped by the king.
"Yes, my pet." the king said, his hand slipping behind her to caress her ass. "Things are moving along very nicely as you can see. Your dowry is most impressive. We've agreed to cease our raids on the villages and keep you alive. Your parents have agreed to provide us with a very generous allowance and fee. At this rate you and my son shall be wed within the month. A pity we had to refuse your parents the right to see your wedding. We couldn't risk an army coming onto our lands."
She could barely concentrate on the paper in front of her. The table was laden with food, the men were clearly enjoying an excellent dinner, and she had not had a bite to eat in twenty-four hours. She felt weak.
"My lord," a captain spoke up from further down the table. Isola glanced at him and recognized him as one of her captors, Kors. "How do we know they won't come to try to take her back once we stop sending out raiding parties? Without our scouts we're blind."
"Captian, there is a simple solution to this, one that I have made clear to the Lansing king and queen from the first letter. They know we have superior armies. That is the only reason they've agreed to peace to being with. And they do love their daughter," he said, his hand running over her silk covered ass, massaging her flesh, enjoying the way she squirmed at the liberties he took with her body. "They love her, and know the way we treat our captives. They'd rather keep her out of the dungeons, which they know is the first place we'll send her should a single drop of Damdren blood be shed."
"Yes, my lord." Captain Kors responded. "Though with your permission I would like to continue to lead scouting trips along the borders of our lands. I do not mean to disagree with you, my lord. I do not ask to raid villages or attack travelers. Just to watch out borders. It would be best to keep the Lansing people aware of our presence." he said, refusing to give up so easily on his position.
The king considered this for a moment "Lieutenant Harker," he said, looking down the table at the young soldier. "You're our best scout, and have proven yourself worthy of my counsel table with your advice on this marriage contract. I would like to hear your counsel on the matter."
The captain bristled at this comment, his advice being passed over for a lieutenant's clearly did not sit well with him. Harker cleared his throat quietly after a moment's thought. Isola looked at him, recognizing him as the man who'd first captured her... yet the man who had showed her the only decency since that day. He seemed to feel her green eyes upon him, for his own grey pair turned to meet her's. When their eyes locked he quickly turned back to the king, "My lord, I feel we should continue to scout, though not in the larger parties we have been using for raids. I would suggest that we send only two or three scouts at a time to keep a subtle eye out. We do not want to seem as though we are plotting, though I agree with the captain that it is best to keep a watchful eye."
"Wise counsel, Lieutenant. You'll have a good career ahead of you, boy." the king said. "You've been very helpful: finding my little pet here; bringing her to me alive and unharmed, against the initial wishes of your superior officers it would seem; coming up with a plan to fill our coffers and stop the enemy from attempting war on our lands for good... I believe such service should be rewarded."
"My lord, you are too kind. All I desire is to serve my kingdom." Harker answered, his eyes momentarily flicking towards Isola. He was painfully aware of the way her nipples stood up against the fabric of her thin dress.
