The Prince's Pet (9 page)

She giggled. "Of course. It
takes time to develop the coordination, though. Like the mens'
Kai La
,
you must constantly train. Don't worry - the dance is not a secret. As I said,
I've performed for the king, for visiting nobles, and at feasts. You can tell
your Prince that's what you do when you come here every day."

I nodded. I still couldn't
imagine being able to move as she did. "I would love to try it."

She assumed a businesslike air.
"Then get up," she said, "and try it."

––––––––

W
e spent the next hour
practicing the dance. I was not very good - lacking the ability to isolate my
muscles in the necessary way. But Atshye was a good and enthusiastic teacher.
She showed me a few basic moves that as she said, "any beginner can learn
passably."

Leander stayed to watch, and we
all laughed and joked in a mixture of my language and theirs as they tried to
teach me. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I was having fun. It
felt almost like a dream... and I was almost afraid of it.

As for the dance - at the end of
the hour I felt that perhaps, with a lot of practice, I might even learn to be
good at it.

"You mentioned five
pleasures," I said, still mildly out of breath as Leander left us alone
and Atshye and I sat down to rest. "What are the others?"

She cocked her head at me with a
wicked smile. "They are lessons for another day. Not for virgins."

"How do you know I -"
I sputtered.

She shrugged. "It is
written all over you.

"Why are the lessons not...
not for virgins?"

This too, she found amusing,
covering her mouth as she smiled. "Because," she said. "Men like
their virgins to be
virgins
."

Blushing, I snapped my mouth
closed.

"There's no shame in
it." Atshye smiled, touching my arm. "If your Prince hasn't taken you
yet, it only means he thinks of you as more than a common whore."

"Does he?" I murmured,
grimacing. "And am I?"

Atshye laughed, showing her
perfect teeth. "Oh yes. Far more. Don't you know? According to Ellys, it
was Iele that him to you."

Until the room started to grow
dim, the sun moving over in the late afternoon, we sat talking. When Ellys
returned, they spent some time speaking in Cimbrai to me, lessoning me on the
names of objects as they would a small child, and teaching me phrases I would
need.

Finally, the eunuch informed me
it was time to go.

"Do you pray to your
goddess?" I asked him as he set his brisk pace through the halls,
escorting me back to my master's rooms. “Should
I
?”

"Eh?" He looked at me
surprised, then smiled. "If you like. But Iele is not like other gods. If
you choose to serve her, you serve her in everything you do. In every
pleasurable moment. With obedience of every command from your master. With
grace of movement and with beauty."

I shook my head, barely
comprehending.

"You must focus on learning
to open yourself to him." Ellys said. "Pleasure comes with the
banishment of fear."

"How do I stop being
afraid?" I murmured, half to myself.

I felt his hand on my back
momentarily, a reassuring pat. "Trust in your master. Give yourself over
to him. Feel Iele's presence. Trust in her."

I nodded, unsure. But it was a
pleasant idea. It must be nice to have the faith that he had. "I will
try."

––––––––

I
arrived back in my master's
chambers before he was home. I was clammy from sweat, and my thigh and stomach
muscles ached from the unfamiliar exertion. As soon as I got inside, I called
for bath water, and sank with relief into the steaming tub as soon as it was
poured.

I washed my hair, and relaxed
back, resting my head on the edge. I thought about everything I'd learned at
the temple, trying to reconcile the new information with my old beliefs.

I wondered why Ellys believed
the goddess had directed him to me, and what that might mean. If these gods
even existed, of course. And if they did, did that mean the Thessian God I had
spurned my whole life existed as well?

Perhaps all gods were a
construct of men, and people simply chose the one they found most reassuring.
But if it helped them and made them happy, I supposed there was nothing wrong
with it.

More relaxed and in better
spirits than I had been since leaving my home, I floated in a state somewhere between
sleep and wakefulness.

I heard the door open and close,
and listened carefully. Servants often came and went, but this time it was
Issander's heavy footsteps. In a few moments I saw him in the bathroom doorway.
I sank deeper into the water in an attempt to shield myself from view.

It was the first time I'd seen
him dressed in finery rather than rough leathers with the day's sweat and dirt
on him. He wore a long, fine blue tunic over white trousers and leather
slippers.

His sword, as always, was in its
sheath on his belt. His hair was neat for once, restrained with a black leather
tie. Even looking tired as he did, he was handsome. He slipped off his shoes
and his belt, setting them down on a bench.

“Hello, my Lord.” I said. When I
realized he was undressing, I groped over the edge for a cloth to cover myself.
“do you want me to get out? I can send for clean water.”

He gave a weary smile and waved
his hand. “No. Stay. How was your outing?”

I sat back, sinking into the
water, and smiled. “Good thank you my Lord, I enjoyed it very much.”

Then as I watched, he quickly
peeled off his tunic. Without any modesty he bent and stepped out of his loose
trousers. I looked away, shy enough for the both of us.

Sure enough, a moment later the
water level in the bath rose as he stepped in and sat opposite me. I wrapped my
arms around my legs, both trying to give him room and trying to shield myself.

He closed his eyes and let out a
huge sigh of relief, much like I had done.

I searched for something to say,
finally settling on small-talk. "And how was your day, my Prince?"

He shrugged. "Same old
thing. Tactical meetings. Luncheon with my father in his rooms. He is feeling
better today, at least."

"That is good." I
smiled.

He cupped water in his hands and
scrubbed at his face.

I combed my fingers through my
hair. It was still wet, sticking to my shoulders. After a moment I became aware
of Issander watching me. There was a trace of that hungry look in his eyes, and
to my surprise, it made my heart beat faster. I stopped, and found myself
smiling shyly at him.

"You know," he said,
smirking as he leaned one arm on the edge of the bath. "You can't stay in
here forever. If I stay right here, sooner or later you have to get out of the
tub and reveal yourself."

"Aye," I agreed.
"But your Highness could order me out right now, if it pleased you."
I said.

"Then you have no hope of
holding onto your modesty."

My face burned hot - perhaps
from the warm water, perhaps from the blush I seemed to perpetually wear in his
presence. "Then I may as well get out now," I said, moving as if to
step out.

"But you haven't helped me
bathe."

"Is that an order, my
Lord?" There was a queer feeling in my stomach, as though it were full of
butterflies. Why had I suddenly grown so forward?

He raised his chin imperiously,
but there was a glint of humor in his eye. "Yes, it is."

"Very well." I reached
out to take the soap pot. On my knees, I moved closer to him, rising up out of
the water so that my breasts were exposed. The air felt cold and my nipples
immediately began to harden, my skin prickling into little bumps.

Issander shifted to make room
for me, and I didn't miss the way his eyes were locked on my chest. But I
pushed aside my modesty. I squeezed to kneel next to him and began to soap his
shoulders in a businesslike manner.

I hadn't bothered to get a wash
cloth, instead scooping the soap out with my fingers and putting it directly on
his skin. I allowed myself to enjoy touching him, feeling his arms flex and
slide under my slippery hands.

He was still looking at me, but
I concentrated on my job. I could almost feel his eyes on me, watching my
breasts dipping above and below the waterline as I worked. I lightly pressed up
against him a time or two, and the contact sent a hot shiver of pleasure through
me.

"Give me that," he
said, his voice husky. He took some soap on his own fingers, and reached around
me. I felt his hand on my back, and slowly he began rubbing my skin.

It felt... good.

It was getting harder to hold
onto the sense of shame - the idea that I was somehow betraying my former self
if I stopped resisting my new life of slavery, or felt anything but hatred for
my master.

Giving up my own life,
surrendering my dignity, should be something I railed against. But this didn't
feel cruel, or wrong, or shameful. I only felt his big, warm hands on me,
rubbing hot water and soap into my tired muscles.

"That feels good." I
told him. "I am aching in places I didn't know could ache." I looked
at him as he raised an eyebrow at me, and couldn't help a little laugh. "I
was practicing dance." I explained.

He didn't answer, but using both
hands he began to massage my shoulders in earnest. I sighed in pleasure. He was
good at it.

I made lazy circles on his
chest, watching the soap lather on his skin. At some point, I'd shifted so that
my thigh was pressing up against his. But I didn't move away.

It was warm and steamy, and I
could feel myself unwinding under his hands. And he was so close. If I opened
my eyes, I could see his face mere inches from mine. His brown-green eyes no
longer laughing, but serious. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking -
but he was watching me, just as I was watching him.

Not really thinking about what I
was doing, I moved my soapy hands up over his collarbone, over his shoulders
and up, until they were at either side of his jaw. My fingers curled around the
back of his neck.

I felt him do the same - his
dextrous fingers working up my neck, mirroring my movements. His fingers
caressed the back of my neck, and the golden collar that rested there under my
limp wet hair.

We looked at each other. My
heart was hammering, and I breathed quick, shallow breaths. I wanted... what
did I want?

Before I could figure it out, he
pulled me toward him and pressed his lips to mine.

I was surprised for only the
briefest of moments, before my traitorous body melted, my lips parting softly
in a breath of pleasure.

He kissed me fiercely, holding
me as though I might fall - one hand around the back of my head and the other
now wrapping around my back. He crushed me to him, my breasts pressing against
his chest, our wet skin sliding.

I had never been kissed before,
but this felt natural. I didn't have to think about what I was doing, instead
surrendering to my desire in the moment.

His tongue invaded my mouth and
hungrily sought mine, and I responded with a quiet moan. I tangled my fingers
in his hair as hot thrills of bliss ran through my body, making me shiver.

We stayed like that for a long
while, enjoying each other, lost in bliss and losing all sense of time. I
shifted my thighs together under the water, where my sex was hot, wet and
aching. And found myself wishing that he would take me right there.

There was a loud banging, I
broke away at the sound, and Issander bent his head to kiss and suck on my
neck. His tongue was hot on my damp skin.

The knocking came again, louder
and more insistent this time. The prince growled in frustration, pressing his
his face against me as though blocking out the outside world.

I clutched him, pulling away
reluctantly, and he looked at me ruefully. When the knocking came again and
someone shouted from the hallway, he growled again and lurched to his feet,
sliding through my grip and sloshing water over the sides of the bath as he
climbed out.

He stormed out of the room
without covering himself, and I shielded my face with one hand, wanting to
laugh as I pictured him answering the door naked and dripping.

I heard him wrench the door
open, and he roared at the poor messenger without. "Did it not enter your
head that I may be BUSY?"

I stepped out of the tub,
wrapping a large white cloth around myself. It was soft and dry, and the cool
air felt good. Now that I was out of the water, I saw how pink and hot-looking
my skin was, and felt slightly dizzy. How long had we been in there?

I took another towel and waited
in the hallway out of sight. When Issander finished berating the intruder and
closed the door, I peeked hesitantly out.

He turned, standing naked
without modesty. All sign of arousal had fled and he wore a look of
frustration.

I approached, smiling at him,
and he looked at me and grimaced, running a hand ruefully over his wet hair.

"What's wrong,
Highness?" I asked, as I took the towel and began to dry him, starting
with his shoulders.

"I am summoned to dine with
the king and queen." He said, holding his arms away from his sides to give
me access.

"You do not sound
pleased."

He sighed and shrugged. "I
can't get away with taking meals in here every day. Besides, my father rarely
makes it out of his room anymore. It will make him happy, so I will go."

I wanted to see him smile again,
to make his eyes sparkle with mirth, instead of seeing him with this weight on
his shoulders. I wrapped the towel around him, and pressed myself lightly
against him as I did my best to dry his back.

He looked down at me, and after
a moment, reached his arms around me and pulled me hard against him. I could
feel his instant response – he began to stiffen against me, his arousal
pressing against my stomach.