The Prince's Pet (8 page)

Issander's hand curved around my
waist, resting there. When he didn't move again, I held my breath.

It was a minute before he leaned
in, closer to my pillowed head.  “Go to sleep.” He said. He paused for a
moment, and I imagined he must be smirking at me.

I listened as his breathing
deepened and became regular. His hand grew heavier where it rested on me. But I
remained awake, unable to ignore the presence of his naked body a bare inch
from mine.

It was warm – cozy and
comfortable. Almost as though we were lovers simply falling asleep together.
What would happen if I simply rolled in his arms and embraced him right now?
Would he continue to stroke me, perhaps kiss me... or more?

For a long while, I grappled
with the impulse to do just that. The only thing stopping me was my own
self-loathing. Could my captor win me over with only a gentle word and a simple
touch? Was I so fickle?

And yet, I yearned.

I
was exhausted by the time I
finally slept, and I didn't even wake up when my master got out of bed in the
morning. He left me sleeping in the bed, and I woke to the late morning sun
streaming in through the open curtains.

The chambers had that complete
silence that told me no one was around. Not even the servants had come in yet.
I threw the covers off and stretched lazily, tempted to just lay naked on the
bed and let the sun warm me all morning – but I didn't want him to come back
and see me idle.

So I pulled on yesterday's dress
and rang the bell for breakfast.

A kitchen girl brought salted
pork, eggs, toast and fruit juice. It was strange and wonderful to eat a full
meal all to myself.

I felt almost like a noble lady
as the slaves trickled in to clean and tidy, and the thought made me guilty. I
made sure to thank them in my crude Cimbrai when they were done. They smiled,
confused but polite, as they left.

I washed myself with the fresh
water they'd left in the basin, and picked one of the dresses from my
collection. I looked in the mirror to comb my hair until it shined. I wanted to
put it up, but of course there were no hair ornaments I could use in the
Prince's chambers.

When I was done with the
routine, I felt refreshed and somehow stronger. I went to the window to stand
in the sun, and was surprised to find that it was not a window, but a
double-door that opened out onto a balcony.

Smiling in delight, I stepped
outside. I could see a wing of the palace's first floor stretching out
underneath where I stood, and a stretch of green gardens. I could see part of
the walled courtyard of the temple.

I stood leaning against the
stone railing, watching the breeze blowing the palms, and the occasional person
walk by below. Groups of ladies, brightly dressed and veiled, soldiers, and the
occasional servant or slave.

The front doors closed heavily,
and startled, I turned back to the room. Issander appeared in the doorway to
his bedroom, and glanced at me. I wondered for a moment if I were in trouble
for being on the balcony, but he only raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“Sleep well?”

I bowed my head, a breeze
picking up my hair and blowing it in front of my eyes. I brushed it away
absently. Why did he always make me blush? “Yes, my Lord. Thank you.”

“Come,” he said. “Take this
armor off me.”

I obliged. Then I called for his
breakfast, and sat with him while he ate.

“Ellys approached me today,”
Issander began, and I looked up in surprise. “He asked that you be allowed to
visit the temple.”

I remembered telling the eunuch
I wanted to know more about his gods. I drew in a breath, hoping Ellys hadn't
risked the prince's ire for my sake. “Yes, my Lord?”

He nodded, chewing his toast. “I
think it would be a good idea. Many of the slaves attend to pray, and you
should learn of our culture. You might learn some of our language in the
process.”

I smiled a genuine smile. “Thank
you, I would like that.”

“You will wait for Ellys to
escort you. Understood? I must visit my father, so I told Ellys you can go
today. He will collect you soon.”

I nodded happily. I was eager to
stretch my legs, and to find out more about the temple. “Aye, my Lord. Thank
you.”

––––––––

"E
sstair, The king of Gods
– he reigns over the sun and sky, and all the other gods."

I stood before the statue of the
large bearded man who held a ball of energy between his hands.

Ellys allowed me to look for a
moment before leading me to the next. This one was robed, his face concealed by
a deep hood, and his hands skeletal. "Vaelau," the eunuch explained,
"who is death, and reigns over the afterlife."

There was Ylera, the
self-created – loved by entrepreneurs and merchants. The statue was that of the
slim, androgynous figure. The god was both male and female, and the Cimbrites
believed he had willed himself into existence.

Next was Moraunil the warrior's
god, who gave strength in battle, and Nal'keli, the trickster – worshiped by
entertainers and sometimes criminals. Que-sayil was the goddess of revelry,
music and art. She was a petite, winged and veiled figure with an instrument in
one hand. Ashaleim, the law god who decided the fate of the guilty and the
innocent in trials of combat, and who mortals prayed to for justice. Moryn, the
antagonist, the cause of all the world's ills. Casyn the god who granted
wisdom, beloved of scribes and scholars.

And of course Iele, goddess of
desire, passion, love, and servitude in the name of these.

My mind reeled with questions.
"Do your people have to choose one god to pray to, or do they take several?”

Ellys smiled. "Many people
worship only one. But others pray to whoever they need. Some do not invoke the
gods at all."

"Are the gods not jealous?
The Thessian canon says there is one God only, and he does not tolerate any
others."

"So I've heard. But no. It
is said that some of them do not like each other, and worshiping two such is
considered counter-productive. That's all."

"You serve Iele."

He nodded .

"How can she be the goddess
of love and passion - and also servitude?"

"Because servitude can be an
aspect of love."

I thought for a moment. "As
a wife serves a husband?"

Ellys smiled, looking pleased.
"That is one aspect, yes. Though it is more complex than that. A husband
and wife may have a traditional relationship, yet in the bedroom it may be the
wife who dominates him. He may enjoy being humiliated or disciplined. Or
indeed, the wife may enjoy being bound."

We sat in a side room, on thick
silken cushions. There was a lovely painted image of the goddess on one of the
walls. I stared up at the image. "I am afraid I know little of bedroom
matters."

The eunuch nodded.

"Why does a-" I broke
off, smothering the question I'd been about to ask, and biting my lip.

Ellys raised an eyebrow at me.
"Go on."

I looked away, embarrassed.
"I do not want to cause offense."

"Ah, you want to ask me a
personal
question.” He laughed, and waved a hand. “Go ahead. I assure you, I've heard
them all before."

I sighed. "I was going to
ask - why would a eunuch serve the goddess of desire?"

Looking unsurprised, he nodded.
"Firstly, who makes a better pleasure slave than a eunuch?"

My mouth hung open. "I... I
don't know."

"In foreign palaces,"
he explained, "many young men are made so, either to guard the women of
the harem, or to perform as bed slaves. We can not produce children, and
depending on how one is cut, may still be able to copulate. It is widely
believed that, lacking much desire of our own, we are better able to
concentrate on the pleasure of our masters or mistresses."

"I see."

"The process is not common
in Cimbra, thank the Lady."

We were silent for a while,
contemplating the murals. I wondered if Ellys were happy with his lot in life.
He was well respected here, and
seemed
content. If someone like him
could be at peace with himself, perhaps I could learn to be, too.

"Something you said
before..." I started.

Ellys nodded.

"The Prince... after I
sneaked out the other day, he... punished me."

"I expected he would. Did
he hurt you?"

I shook my head. "Not
badly. He was... he was fair. But he..." I almost shivered at the memory.
“He seemed to
enjoy
it." I looked at Ellys, and saw his eyes
crinkle at the edges as he smiled lightly.

"Yes." He said. Then
he reached out to pat my hand where it sat on the pillow between us.

"Then is he going to want
to hurt me every time we...?"

The eunuch shook his head.
"Not necessarily."

I sighed in relief.

"But Eveline," Ellys
said. "He is your master. You must learn to please him in all ways, even
if that means being disciplined or punished for no reason other than his own
amusement. Or if you are bound, or commanded to do something you do not
like."

I stared at him, deflating.
"Aye. Yes, I know."

"Do not worry.” He smiled.
“He is a good man, underneath it all. And the good news is, you can come to
enjoy it all as much as he does."

"Really?"

He nodded and chuckled.
"Really." And he looked back at the image on the wall, of the
beautiful goddess, dancing naked under the light of the moon.

––––––––

A
tshye walked in soon after. She
was beautiful in colorful diaphanous silks and a golden belt to match her
collar, her flat midriff and long brown arms exposed.

I was surprised to see her, but
Ellys told me he had arranged for her to come for my lesson. She seemed
contrite, at first refusing to meet my eyes. But when I took her hand and
squeezed it, she brightened.

"You must not tell the
details of what we discuss here." She told me, while Ellys nodded.
"It is sacred and secret among Iele's servants."

"Of course," I
answered, "but if my master asks...”

"He will not." Ellys
said. "The service of Iele is well known among royalty - an accepted
outlet for slaves. They respect our privacy in this, if nothing else."

"Besides," said Atshye
with a wink, "your master is the one who will reap the rewards."

Ellys left us alone for a while,
and Atshye started with the basics. The correct way to kneel; Before my master,
I was to sink to my knees on the floor and bend forward with my palms on the
floor, fingers splayed and forehead close to the floor, but not touching.

Before others, there was a
modified version. Sitting back on my heels with my palms resting on my lap and
head bowed.

“This is also the position we
used when told to wait for our masters.” Atshye said. “A simple bow of the head
is adequate for meeting strangers of unknown status, unless told explicitly to
kneel. And if you know them, the higher their status the deeper you should
bend.” She demonstrated a graceful low bow, and I copied her. She made me
repeat it several times until I got it right.

She taught me how to pour
correctly, making me demonstrate with cups and water, over and over until I had
it right. When serving at table, I must stand unobtrusively behind my master,
and approach to refill his glass whenever it was below half empty.

If we were alone I was to sit on
a cushion at his feet and take his glass to refill it from the tray in front of
me. I was to keep my own glass full as well so that he wouldn't be drinking
alone - though Atshye cautioned me against drinking too much. "It makes
you clumsy." She said. “But you will master the art of pretending to sip,
yet drinking little.”

There were so many protocols,
traditions and rules, and by the time we were done my mind was reeling. There
was much more discipline to serving than I had thought possible.

"I will teach you so many
things." Atshye told me excitedly. "There are no other pleasure
slaves here, only concubines... and
they
don't want to learn
anything." She made a sour face. "We must teach you to dance, and
play an instrument, and of course," she leaned toward me conspiratorially,
"the five pleasures."

"What are the five
pleasures?" I asked, curious.

"I am so glad you asked. I
can show you the first right now." She smiled. "The rest must
wait." She jumped up, poked her head out the door, and clapped her hands
loudly.

In a moment, someone else
entered the room. It was Leander, the young man I'd met the other day. He was
in the same sky-blue robes, and wore the same warm smile.

“This is Leander, a priest of
Iele.” She told me, before turning to speak to him in rapid Cimbrai. He nodded,
following her expressive hand gestures, laughing softly once or twice. He bowed
low, I noticed, as though she was his superior.

He closed the door, and sat
calmly on a cushion. Atshye stood before us, and spread her arms. "The
first pleasure." She said with a flourish. "The
Laenael
. The
arousal. This can of course take many forms. But it is for this purpose that
Iele has given us the dance."

She broke into sinuous movement,
swaying her arms and shaking her hips. I stared in disbelief at the incredible
use of her muscles as she flexed her stomach and danced to a non-existent
rhythm.

She looked joyous as she moved,
a smile lighting her face. She tossed her dark hair and moved her delicate feet
in a silent step, and I held my breath at the beauty of it.

As she danced, she moved closer
to where Leander sat cross-legged on his cushion. Then she began to move more
slowly, standing over the young man and slowly turning, rotating her hips in
slow arcs.

Leander laughed and reached out
to grab her, and she quickly and gracefully stepped to avoid his touch.
"Teasing," she said, "and tantalizing. This dance is sometimes
performed for a group, to music. But when alone with our masters is becomes
something else entirely."

Atshye stepped around Leander,
winding around him as she performed. The young man looked up at her, rapt. She
bent backwards showing an incredible flexibility, winding her arms gracefully
together. She sank to her knees up against the priest and did the same again,
giving him a direct look at her taut stomach. She came back up, and pressed up
against him, winding her arms around his neck and planting a soft kiss on his
cheek before getting to her feet, spinning away and ending the dance with a
laugh of delight.

I let out the breath I didn't
know I'd been holding. "And you can teach
me
to do that?" I
asked, incredulous. I'd danced perhaps twice in my life, not counting at home
alone with a broom. And I'd certainly never seen anything like this.