Chapter I
King Moracor
T HE PERSONAL CHAMBER of Princess Allestra was nothing short of a wonder. The stone walls were covered in peach silk padding. Across the fine tiled floor were strewn thick, lush furs. Against one wall was a large dressing table with a flawless mirror. It had been shipped across the sea along with her tall chest of drawers and free standing closet. The finest feature of the room by far was the four posted, royal blue curtained bed.
Her clothes were of the finest, softest cotton and silk fabrics. As with most fashions in Thaldis, they weren't made to cover the flesh, but showcase it. The oppressive heat of the desert side was a constant and garb of light flowing fabric was in fashion. The Princess wore one of her favourite dresses as she sat at her dressing table brushing her hair.
It was a garment of thin blue silk held up by two fine ribbons. The neckline drooped, the loose fitting garment draped down past the knee but was split a quarter way up between the thighs in front and back.
He watched her, certainly not for the first time from a secret peephole in the wall. She hummed a light tune to herself, she had such a sweet voice, light and cheery. Her long, straight blonde hair fell over one shoulder as she slowly pulled her imported ivory handled brush through it.
As she flipped her hair to attend to the underside one of the thin ribbons fell over her shoulder, revealing one full, perfect pale breast with its pert pink nipple for just a moment before she pulled the garment back into place.
He had seen her in the nude before, watched her bathe, and walked in on her on purpose mid wardrobe change. Every time he saw more than was appropriate it was still a revelation and he tried to burn the images into his memory.
He couldn't help but look into that lovely face. Ocean blue eyes set atop a perfect nose and soft, pillowy lips. When she smiled at someone they couldn't help but smile back. If she laughed the whole room was lifted by the appearance of her joy.
There were no smiles or laughter for him, however. No, that was something she chose to deny him along with his right to marry her. He had rightfully defeated her father, taken her royal house for his own by spilling his blood and killing his sons. The law said she was his, a war prize like gold coins, jewellery or a fine vase. He owned her lands and punished her people. They would live on scraps and build their huts from ashes until she gave in and saw what a successful, formidable man he was.
She didn't submit, however. While he was in her presence her light heartedness and warm spirit were gone, and he would not take her by force. He needed to see her smile at him, to make her laugh, to watch her writhe in extacy as he gave her the most exquisite pleasure.
One of her servants entered then; a young woman with generous curves and dark hair. He watched her closely. She was tanned from venturing outside the tower and though she was not muscular, her legs, hips and stomach were pleasingly shaped. Her breasts were large enough to tense the halter she wore. The thong around her gently curved waist held up a cloth that hung loose in the front and in the back.
Moracor could see beads of sweat gathering on her bare shoulders and midriff. The sway of her bare, tanned hips made the strip of light cloth falling from the center of her waist strap sway back and forth tantalizingly, almost revealing the inner curves of her round bottom. He knew she was hairless beneath, all the servants were required to groom themselves thusly. In fact, it was the expected fashion of Thaldis and that part of the world.
She will have to do.
He thought to himself. He took a few steps, opened the secret passage entrance and walked onto the landing of the tower staircase. Without knocking he opened the bedroom door.
The Princess gave him her usual cold look, not bothering to turn around, only flicking her gaze to him in the mirror then going back to brushing her light blond hair in long smooth strokes. The servant left the small tray of fine fruit and watered wine on the table.
Turning towards the door she smiled and curtsied at King Moracor.
See? She knows to respect her liege lord. I rule for seven thousand leagues in every direction! Anyone standing in this city cannot gaze upon land that is not mine or granted to some lesser man out of my generosity! This serving girl whose face is round, her waist is thin, her hips are ready for child and I daresay can provide them twins at a time would let me have her right here! Even if only to come closer to the throne, this girl knows when she should bow to a King and that she should open her legs as well. I'd wager a million gold pieces on it!
"You may leave me Illibra. I'll spend the afternoon taking my ease," Princess Allestra said, ignoring the King.
"Thank you my lady, I'll return at dinner," the serving girl replied.
"Hold, Illibra. I would like you to take account of my conversation with the Princess," King Moracor ordered, trying to sound casual and light.
"Yes my Liege." The serving girl stopped, standing in the middle of the room with her head down.
"How do you find the day, Princess?" he went on.
"Hot. Hot and bothersome."
"Perhaps we could fetch you some cool water? Have someone bathe your feet?"
"A temporary relief at best. Even a cool bath would only lift the sweat from my skin, cool me then I'd be left to sit or stand in this furnace you've trapped me in."
"I have gone to great lengths to make your rooms comfortable, is there something more I could do?"
"Send me home, to the seaside and woodland. That is what you could do. Bring me back to my Nolan and his clansman. I am sure he'd receive me peacefully and pay you a ransom."
"The woodlands, where homes are made of twigs and muck, you suffer rain seasons a quarter year long, freezing snow for another, and your countrymen stink of ale and the livestock they keep. You'd have this instead of the land of literacy, silks, fine food, better wine and sensual creativity?"
She turned in her seat to stare at him. Her blue eyes were piercing, her face fully furious, she was breathtaking. "Yes, yes! A thousand times yes! Hundreds of days you have come and asked me these questions in all different phrasings, and every time I give you the same simple answer; deliver me to my home! Release me from this perpetual slavery!"
King Moracor sighed. "Your concept of slavery is curious. I lavish upon you, give you luxuries that are surpassed by only my own. You want for nothing in this place, your bed could not be softer if I piled it with the feathers of angels. You have something to read, the best food to eat, the most delicious wines to drink yet you would not share one afternoon of polite company with me. Slaves toil in the salt mines, shovel coal into the furnaces beneath the baths, clean public latrines in the streets. You don't know the sting and toil of slavery."
"You are my captor! You murdered my family, killed for the crown and my family's land! I will not give you my hand in marriage or willingly grant you consummation!"
The argument had happened dozens of times before, but King Moracor was still outraged. "I am no murderer! I am a conqueror, a commander of men and the superior to millions! Your father should have accepted exile if he did not wish to be slain for his crown. He should have protected his family better, hid them away if he wished them to have a better fate, but now I stand here wishing to take my right as a conqueror, to enjoy my prize."
"Then take it! Take it and send me home! I'm no virgin I warn you, no delicate waif and if I am with child after you plant your black seed I'll poke it out! The matter would be done, one bastard out and the other well behind! But take me and be done with it so I can be sent away like disused trash and be free!"
"No!" King Moracor shouted. "I offer you my right side. To rule over a kingdom of unfathomable riches filled with subjects who would adore you as the flower does the sun! We would spend days in my bed chamber, in the private baths making an heir of two lands and I'd lavish upon you the deepest pleasures, satisfy and thrill you unlike any man alive. Sadly, such gifts cannot be forced. If it were possible I would have raised my hand to you and changed your mind long ago! How is it you do not understand my offer? What I've given you is only the slightest of beginnings, a pittance! Would other women refuse such offers?"
"I am not other women! Stripped of my dreams I sit captive in this silk prison, far from home, a stolen prize in a royal slaves bond. Your gifts mean nothing!"
"Then I put this to you; If you relent to me, allow me to pleasure you, the spell that prevents you from taking another man will be lifted. I only ask that you give me your grace willingly."
"You reach for what you cannot grasp. I will never submit to you willingly."
King Moracor took three steps and stopped to stand beside the serving girl. His arm went around her waist, his other hand caressed her tanned, soft cheek. "You would not refuse such an offer, would you?"
She slowly shook her head, her brown eyes filled with uncertainty. "N-no my Liege. I would h-honour you."
