Location: Ramez, Duchy of Atansha, Kingdom of Tildor
Date: May 2047
Royce Moramorian, Duke of Atansha, just entered the manor when he saw her. He was sure she was new. She was a dark beauty, quite striking. Nearly everyone else in Ramez had skin that was fair or bronze-brown. This young lady was the color of mocha, dark with creamy undertones. Her hair was jet black, and she had large, dark eyes and flashing white teeth. Her dress was a simple, plain dark blue shift, calf length, and tied by a thin belt at her waist. Simple sandals. She also seemed young. Next month, Royce would be twenty-seven; he judged this dark beauty to be in her mid- to late-teens.
He had just finished examining the current construction on the castle walls around the manor. The foundations were completed, and building of the first three meters was continuing just fine. The city walls were still wooden palisades and hedgeworks, but those would hopefully begin being replaced by stone by the start of summer. The month of May had come in warm and sunny, and he'd come inside the manor for a cool drink.
Royce himself was just a bit taller than average. At one hundred eighty-eight centimeters and an even hundred kilos, he was large shouldered and walked with the practiced ease of an experienced warrior. Fair-skinned and clean-shaven, he'd inherited the dark brown eyes of his father. His dark brown hair was a blend of both parents. But for the long sword at his waist, one would have mistaken his garb as denoting a common laborer. Royce dressed practically, especially when he was visiting the construction areas.
The main hall was fairly quiet, with fewer than a dozen people about. A couple of guards. A few staff snacking at the many tables in the commons. Others chatting or cleaning.
This new girl, though, caught his eyes. She was so exotic. And she was trying to carry too large a load of clean linens up the wide staircase to the second floor.
Watching her out of the corner of his eye, Royce went to his normal seat in the hall, and poured himself a glass of cool water. Draining the cup, he was reaching for the pitcher again when he saw her stumble on the steps.
She recovered, dropping a few folded towels from the top of her load. Spying the loss, she slowly crouched, leaning partly against the bannister for balance, trying to reach for them.
Glancing about, Royce noticed that a few seated had also observed her discomfort and looked on with amusement. He heard one even betting on whether she made it to the top without falling. That irritated him.
The young lady snagged the towels and tried to stand. She made it, and promptly caught her foot on the next stair, falling forward, spilling the linens before her.
Laughter erupted and coins exchanged. Royce thought it mean, and forgetting his drink, hurried to lend a hand.
She looked about, then started the business of re-stacking them.
Royce knelt beside her. "Here, let me lend a hand."
"Shank dill," she said.
He paused. "Excuse me?"
"Shank dill? Dillop?"
Royce picked up two folded sheets, adding them to her stack. "I still don't understand."
"Sorry I. Me speak not good well."
Taking a guess, Royce tried Kemetic. "Do you understand me?"
Obviously pleased, she nodded, replying in kind. "You speak my language! I'm Mayet." Mayet meant kitten. "Thank you for helping me. I do not want to get you in trouble, too."
Finished gathering the linens, she reached around to the front, and began to lift.
"Wait," Royce told her. He took half the stack into his arms. "I'll help you. It really is too much for one trip. Better to take two trips and be safe. You could fall and really hurt yourself."
She paused a moment, debating, then agreed. "If it will not interfere with your other duties, I thank you for your kindness."
Amused, Royce smiled. "No trouble at all."
Her load lighter by half, she stood more easily, leading the way. Royce followed behind.
Much of the second floor was still under construction. Royce's personal office was little more than four walls and a table yet. Paneling was still being put in by workmen. The master bedroom had the fancy bed, but masons were still putting in the fireplace. The master bath was also under heavy construction. Plumbers had finished putting in the pipes for running water, and workers were putting in the tiles and the hot tub. The bathroom fixtures had cost him a fortune, but his first wife, Susan, anxiously checked on its progress. To both their minds, running water in the bathroom was less a luxury and more a basic need.
Less than a year earlier, Royce had married two sisters, Susan and Charlotte Ann Starshine of Starshine. Having known them all his life, he liked their company. When the opportunity for starting this new city in the wilderness came about, he knew he would have to have help to manage it all. Tall, blonde Susan was becoming a powerful priestess and her diplomatic advice was always good. Charlotte Ann, dark-haired like himself but shorter, was an expert in the woods, a fine swordswoman, and a master with the bow.
It was during a search for adventure two years earlier that he ran into them, and after a few weeks of being lovers, Royce had proposed. They liked him, they pointed out, but weren't in love with him. He countered that given a chance, love could come, especially since they were already friends. In the meantime, they could work out the details, get married, and put themselves into building a home of their own. The negotiations hadn't taken long. The marriage had been joyously welcomed by both sets of parents.
Susan had insisted the marriage be open. "Because we aren't in love," she'd said, "it's better that way. And if we do fall in love, we let each other know. I'd rather us be honest, and decide if we still want to remain married. However, I have two rules, Royce. First, be discreet. I won't have lovers around who whisper about and slur me or my sister. I am dead serious about that. And if I catch you with someone, I reserve the right to send them away from our city and our lands. Second, you want us to share one bed. Fine. As your First Wife, the bed is mine. I happily share it with you and my sister. But never, ever have sex on that bed or in the room it's in with anyone but me or Charlotte Ann. In return, my bed will welcome no other man but you."
So here he was, married and ruler of this growing town of more than a thousand men and women. Thus far, he'd had no interest in sex with anyone else. Though truthfully, he'd also had little time. Between starting the mining operations, tree planting, construction of their home and city defenses, setting up councils and arbitrations and more projects than he cared to think on, Royce was very busy indeed. Charlotte Ann was out leading another long range patrol, watching for dangers. She was usually gone for weeks at a time. Susan was busy, too. They were in the final stages of consecrating the temple to the Lawgiver in town, and it would be another two days before she came home.
This young woman, obviously foreign, was an interesting diversion. How, he wondered, had she arrived here when her language skills were so rudimentary? And she obviously had no idea who he was.
At the top of the stairs, she turned right, Royce behind her.
Two guards in the hallway snapped to attention, boots clicking on the wood floor, chainmail rattling. "My Lord!"
Mayet stopped and turned, her eyes huge. "Lord? Oh, no!" Clutching her load, she dropped to her knees, head low, Kemetic spilling from her. "I am so sorry, my Lord. I am new here. I did not mean to drop them! I will understand if you--"
"Peace, Mayet! Peace! It's all right. You aren't in trouble. Stand up and let's get these put away."
Slowly standing, she looked nervously at the guards, keeping her head bowed low. "Y-yes, Lord."
Royce saw her shaking and he frowned. He turned to the guards. "Go take a break. Get a snack from Cook. I'm good here."
The two guards grinned at their good fortune, snapping out a salute. Around the corner and down the steps, and they were gone.
"Come on, Mayet. Let's get these put away. You aren't in trouble. I give you my word."
She looked cautiously, her head still bowed.
"You can lift your head. It will be easier if you walk normally. Really. Please lead the way?"
"Yes, Lord."
Down the hallway to the next left, halfway down its length. Carefully, her hand reached out and opened the door. The room was small and narrow, filled with shelves. Linens, towels, sheets, blankets. Spare cots along one wall. The only light in the room spilled in from the hallway from the open door behind them.
Mayet quickly set down her load and took the rest of the load from Royce's arms, setting it by the first.
Royce spotted a light globe by the door. He touched it and light filled the room.
Startled, Mayet jumped. "Magic!" she exclaimed.
He smiled. "Yes. A simple one, though. Touch it to turn it on or off. If you see one with a metal frame around it, you don't even have to touch it. Just wave your hand close. Up and down a bit will even affect how bright it gets. This one is just the on-or-off type."
Curious, she quickly touched it, and the room dimmed again. Amused, he watched her reach out again, to turn the light on again.
"It doesn't hurt. No heat!" she marveled.
"Lasts pretty much forever, though some people can destroy the simple magics. These are easy to make. The ones that work without touch are better, and are harder to destroy."
She smiled tentatively. "Thank you, my Lord, for your kindness."
"My pleasure," he smiled.
Mayet blinked, then nodded. "My Lord." With a quick movement, she scooped up her dress, hiked it above her hips, turned and bent over, exposing her bare butt and thick, curly muff to him. Grabbing her knees, she moved her legs apart. The dark, almost black labia drew his eyes. The ruffled line of her cleft. He'd never seen pussy lips that color before.
Startled, Royce asked loudly, "What are you doing?"
"Your pleasure ... my Lord," she answered meekly.
"You mean--you thought I ... No, Mayet, I didn't mean that."
She rose partway. "You mean you don't want me?"
Royce cleared his throat. "What? Yes. I mean, no. For helping carry laundry? I never take a woman against her will. It's just not done. You always have the right to say no. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Lord." Then, "No, Lord. Do you not want me?"
"Oh, boy," he muttered. Did she not know her rights? Not just from the Kemetic enclave at the capital then, he thought. She must be foreign born and raised. No shorts or even the more modern panties. Just bare under her dress. "I think I'd better not."
Nodding sagely, she stood, letting her dress drop. "I am too ugly. I understand."
