Confessions of a Sheba Queen

by Autumn Bardot

  “Hurry,” I said and turned away before she could read the thoughts in my eyes. “Ameen.”

  He appeared at my side. “Yes, your Excellency.”

  “Take me to the room where Hasan kept all the jinn heads.”

  “There is no such room, your Excellency.”

  “He does not mount them on a wall?”

  Ameen stepped forward. “That’s a rumor, your Excellency,” he whispered.

  I blinked, closed my open mouth, and breathed my astonishment through my nose. “What . . . what did he do with the jinni heads?”

  Ameen’s sharp face bent with sympathy. “I do not know, my queen.”

  My fingernails dug into my palms. “Give me a tour of my new palace.”

  I spent the afternoon listening to overconfident ministers exaggerate their merits. I was unimpressed. Hasan had surrounded himself with flattering sycophants and incompetent men willing to lie and mislead to keep their positions and easy life.

  One told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. I shut him up by telling him my beauty was irrelevant. I needed men skilled in diplomacy, religion, architecture, farming, and trade.

  I required a court of counselors offering practical wisdom and ideas. So far only Zazan, the minister of the treasury, had made an appealing case for his continued service.

  “Let me in! I demand you let me in! You know me. Let me pass!” A loud angry voice came from outside the door.

  On my quick nod, the guard opened the door. An older man, his hair streaked with gray, stomped into the throne room.

  “So it’s true.” He glared, a blue vein bulging from his forehead. “A woman!” He shuddered. “I will not bow to a woman.”

  This rude intruder did not look like the general. He wore no weapons, only different sized amulets around his neck and a well-used leather bag strapped across his body. His kilt, however, was threaded with silver and his sandals sewn with gems.

  “Then bend to a queen.”

  The man’s aggressive chin jutted forward and his lips pressed tight. “I am the Magus, the king’s magician. Everyone here will attest to that.”

  “Hasan is dead,” I said. “Now you are merely a magician without a patron.”

  Anger shot from his eyes like flames. “You scorn me? I can strike you dead with a word.”

  “My words held no scorn.” It was never a good idea to anger a magician. “It was a statement of fact. Do you scorn fact? Of course not.” Needing to distract his fury, I pointed to the hand-shaped pendant with a large blue stone at its center. “That’s a unique piece. I have never seen its like.”

  “This?” His hand touched the piece, his attention diverted. “It is the Hand of Miriam.”

  “I heard about her. She is named after Moses’s sister.” I vaguely recalled my religion teacher’s lesson about an obscure faith practiced far from here.

  A new respect flickered in the Magus’s eyes. “Most have never heard of her.”

  Because she is a woman, I wanted to say but did not. “What power does the Hand of Miriam possess?”

  “It provides protection from others’ evil wishes. Had King Hasan worn this, he would not be dead.” He jabbed an accusing finger at the air. “From your evil desires.”

  “The queen’s reign was prophesied by the Ancients,” said one of the ministers. “The Oracle told us herself.”

  The Magus flung him a withering look. The minister shrunk into himself and hid behind another.

  “Prophesy, you say? Let us test this ancient prophesy.” The Magus dug into his leather bag, pulled out a brown-flecked snake longer than his arm, and set it down. Hissing, the lethal serpent slithered toward me.

  I confess, I was paralyzed with indecision. Show fear and leap up? Or be bitten and die?

  The cobra reared up, its black neck splayed and threatening, and swayed to the Magus’s toneless humming.

  CHAPTER 24

  The cobra swayed. My body moved to its hypnotic waving motion, my mind transfixed by a mystical force.

  Suddenly Nasreen bounded into the throne room. My little leopard pounced on the cobra, and sunk her teeth deep into the serpent’s neck. Its body writhed, but it was only the futile twist of a death twitch.

  The limp snake hanging from her mouth, Nasreen dragged the cobra to me, offering it like a gift at my feet, before jumping on my lap.

  “Where have you been?” I whispered into her soft neck.

  The ministers and servants cheered. The arrogant Magus’s jaw went slack.

  A servant ran into the throne room and, seeing the leopard kitten sharing my throne, tripped over his feet. “Forgive me, your Excellency, we’ve been trying to catch the leopard all day.”

  “I will keep her. She seems to like me.” I stroked Nasreen. “Bring her some raw meat.”

  Fihr, the minister of building, glowered at the Magus. “Do you believe the prophecy now? Our queen is half jinni. She commands wild beasts.”

  The Magus lowered himself to his knees. “Forgive my initial distrust, your Excellency. You passed my feeble test. Do not hate me, I did it only for the good of the Sabaean people.” He touched his forehead to the floor.

  I did not trust the Magus but I needed allies, not enemies. “I applaud your love for the Sabaeans. Not your methods. You are, however, welcome in my court.”

  “If your Excellency will permit me to leave, I have a meeting with traders from the south who bring lifesaving plants from their kingdom of forests.” Despite his honeyed tones, his request leaked a sour note.

  “I admire your commitment to healing. I would be interested in knowing more.”

  His face brightened, the Magus seeing my statement for what it was—an opportunity to get into my good graces. “Thank you, your Excellency, I am at your service.”

  I left the throne room with Nasreen draped over my shoulder. I needed to think, to plan the next few steps. I needed allies. A queen without faithful supporters was not queen for very long. There was precious little time before the initial novelty of my takeover faded into mistrust. I had to start making real changes and I had to make them now.

  I found a cushioned settee in the courtyard in hopes the fresh air, bright sunlight, and fragrant foliage would rouse inspiration.

  A few moments later, I waved Duvsha and Kepha into my private space. Kepha approached with open arms. Was it only yesterday he and I shared a decadent intimacy?

  “Bilqīs! You saved my daughter!” Kepha was about to embrace me but instead he dropped his arms and lowered his square body to the ground. “Your Excellency.” He tilted his head and gave me his familiar impish grin. “When Duvsha came and told me what happened . . . I thought . . . well all thoughts left my head.”

  “That makes me sad, Kepha. I called you here expressly for the thoughts in your head.”

  Kepha waggled his head back and forth. “Ah, they’re back now. Safe and . . . mostly sound.”

  “Come sit with me,” I said. “My head is spinning. Most of the ministers are useless, although Zazan, minister of the treasury, seems competent enough. I’m not surprised by Saba’s troubles. Hasan’s men have no vision. Or else, like the minister of building, they are too frightened to speak out.”

  “How can I help, Bil—your Excellency.”

  “In private call me Bilqīs.” I sat up and swung my legs over the settee. “I want you to gather your wealthiest and most honest merchant friends—”

  “That narrows the group.” Kepha gritted his teeth in a pessimistic half smile.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, it will make the task for my new minister of merchants much quicker.”

  “Me? Minister of merchants?” Kepha touched his chest. “I…I don’t know what to say, and I’m never at a loss for words.”

  “Say you will do it.”

  Kepha pressed his hands together and bowed. “I’m overwhelmed by your offer.” He drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “I will not let you down.”

  “I need you to do more t
han that, Kepha. I need you to be excellent in the job.”

  “Which is what exactly?”

  “First, you will lead discussions about the merchant crisis. I am interested in practical solutions, not a list of grievances.”

  “What about the women in the harem?” asked Duvsha. “Do not discount their talents. Some are widows, wives, and daughters of accomplished men.”

  “I will choose the best person, man or woman, for each job.” I looked at Kepha. “Would you like to live here?” I wanted to keep the only friends I had close.

  “With Duvsha?” he asked.

  “You will have your own chambers.”

  “It is an honor.” Kepha stood and rubbed his hands together. “I have much to do.”

  “Then be on your way,” I said.

  “You look tired,” said Duvsha after her father left. “A bath always revives me. May I draw you one?”

  Sex revived me more than a bath, but I had to be careful now. I was queen. I must appear beyond the influence of fleshly desires.

  What an outrageous hypocrisy. Whereas people expected a king to revel in carnal delights, a queen would be held to a different standard.

  “Yes, Duvsha, that sounds delightful.”

  As I watched Duvsha hurry away, I stroked the leopard kitten curled in my lap. “I tried setting you free but it seems you’d rather be near me. Thank you for killing the cobra, and for starting the rumor that I control wild beasts.”

  Nasreen licked her paw.

  I stood, Nasreen in my arms, and strolled about the courtyard, making mental notes about how to best redesign the mostly wasted space.

  Duvsha proved an efficient chief cupbearer. When I returned to my chambers, she had already found handmaidens eager to serve their new queen. One of them led me to the bathing chambers.

  I unwrapped my makeshift dress and stepped into the large bath, a round, waist-deep alabaster basin in the middle of a small chamber. Above, narrow windows near the ceiling crisscrossed the room with light.

  “You did it, Bilqīs,” said Duvsha once we were alone. “No one disputes you are queen. Everyone is eager for change. Especially the bondservants, some of whom worked far beyond the seven years required to earn back their freedom. Which, by the way—”

  “I know. They must be set free or paid.” I squeezed shut my eyes. So many problems that required my immediate attention. “A bath first.” I submerged myself.

  When I emerged half a moment later, Duvsha was holding a gold plate stacked with soap. “Look at all these.” She lifted one. “This smells like rosemary and goat’s milk.” She handed me the palm-sized ball.

  I smoothed it across my arm. This soap felt nothing like the rough mixture Momma and I made at home.

  “Here, let me.” Duvsha soaped my back. “Your muscles are as hard as rocks.” She worked her fingers into my shoulders. “How’s that?” Duvsha sat on the edge, her legs in the water.

  “Wonderful.” I scooted between her thighs and closed my eyes. “Your hands are magic,” I groaned.

  Duvsha’s hands smoothed over my neck, shoulders, and arms, kneading away the knots. “I cannot believe we met only yesterday. It feels like I’ve known you for years.”

  Almaqah showered me with blessings. One of them: making friends with Duvsha and Kepha.

  “Sometimes you just know, right?” Duvsha leaned forward as her fingers dug into the muscles of my forearm, her small breasts brushing against my back.

  My loins stirred and once again I wondered how Duvsha might taste. Duvsha leaned closer as her hands massaged my arm.

  “Is this okay?” Her breath tickled my ear.

  I rested my head on her thigh. “Perfect.”

  “You’re so beautiful, Bilqīs.” Her hands moved slowly up and down my arms.

  A subtle shift in the air made me open my eyes.

  Duvsha’s hand hovered over my partially submerged breast. I arched my back, thrust my breast into her hand, and looked up at her.

  “I . . . I want . . .” Duvsha’s cheeks blossomed pink.

  “I want you too.” I kissed her linen covered thigh.

  Duvsha squeaked, her brows drawing together in a lovely pained expression. She cupped one breast, then both. “They’re beautiful, so beautiful.”

  I closed my eyes again. “So good, so good,” I murmured.

  Duvsha fondled them, like only a woman knew how to do, tracing a light finger around my areola, teasing the nipple, lightly scratching around them.

  “Is this okay? I’ve never been with a woman.”

  “It’s perfect.” I twisted around and dragged Duvsha into the water.

  We kissed.

  Duvsha tasted like sweet wine and friendship. Our tongues looped around each other, tentative at first, then more insistent. I let Duvsha lead; let her find her own way into her first experience of female lust. Her dress was wet and clinging to her skin, and she lifted it over her body.

  “You’re glorious.” I stroked her pert breasts and taut, dark-brown nipples. My hands traveled past her narrow hips to her slender thighs. “You’re like a cat.” I urged her against the side of the tub.

  Duvsha leaned back against the ledge, the water sloshing mid thigh. I parted her legs and lowered myself into her thick tangle of dark curls.

  Duvsha made little squeaks as my tongue worked her clit.

  “Don’t fight it,” I said as her legs tensed. “Just enjoy.” I flicked back and forth, circled, and sucked, but it was not until I pressed my tongue against her clit with small pulsing pushes that Duvsha was swept into sensual abandonment. Her little squeaks grew louder and louder until she let loose one very long squeal.

  “Now I know what all the fuss is about,” she panted.

  “No, now you know what some of the fuss is about.” I licked off her cream.

  She squealed again, her legs straightening. “There’s more?”

  “Lots.” I ran my tongue along her inner thigh.

  “Ohhhhh, I want to do it all!” Her kicks splashed the water. “My turn next.”

  We changed positions, and I sat on the edge of the tub.

  Duvsha frowned at my pink furrows. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’ll show you.” I spread my delta. “This nub here is one of a woman’s most sensitive spots. Here is where a man’s cock goes, or a cucumber, or fingers—”

  “Or a stone phallus.” Duvsha’s eyes widened as I slipped my two fingers inside. “Farther back, the anus.”

  Duvsha’s brow knotted. “I know a girl who fucks a boy she’s not allowed to that way so she stays a virgin.”

  “I hope her betrothed never finds out. I don’t think he would agree.”

  Duvsha rested both elbows on my thighs and gazed at my cunt as though pleasure was an irresistible mystery. “I want to pleasure you the right way.”

  “There is no right way. There is only preference, and that can change. Often each moment.”

  She put her nose to me, inhaled deeply, and flicked a tentative tongue across my rosy petals.

  I spread myself wider, wanted, needed her to explore every bit of me. Duvsha was timid, yet her light, hesitant strokes were so teasingly pleasant that my clit throbbed in moments. My tingling ass lifted off the tub’s edge, tilting upward for more more more.

  Duvsha drew the tip of her tongue over my nub. “Am I doing it wrong?”

  Wrong? Her shy uncertainty was akin to a person nibbling at a bit of bread. My whole bottom was smoldering, the almost of her tentative exploration more erotic than the there. My ass bounced off the tub’s rim as the rising pleasure coursed through my thighs.

  Duvsha was like a sunbird, the emerald-colored creature that hovered over flowers to draw nectar. I arched back, splayed my carnal petals, and trembled with the tantalizing glory of almost.

  Almost. Several times I drifted to the precipice. Each time edging closer. My whimpers grew louder. Did Duvsha know that she was keeping me in that delirious agony of almost? I wanted her to bury her face int
o my cunt and finish me!

  Duvsha’s lips encircled my tormented clit and tugged once too many times. My cunt exploded with rapture and I shoved her face into my cunt while I bucked against her. Duvsha kept sucking. All the almosts released in succession. Orgasm after orgasm, a sequence of releases so divine it left me gasping.

  “Stop. No more.” I pushed her away.

  Duvsha’s face was glossy with my wet joy, her eyes shiny with desire. “I want to learn more.”

  “My pleasure.” I slipped back into the bath and gathered my friend, my best friend, my only friend, into my arms. I sprinkled kisses on her neck and stroked her hair. “But it is you who taught me something today.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The first rays of sunrise warmed my face. I smiled. Kept my eyes closed. This was the second day of my reign. I stretched wide my arms and marveled at the soft linen. Yesterday, the handmaids removed Hasan’s bed, burned it, and brought a new one. I luxuriated in my new bed, but only for a moment. Duty called and Saba waited. I opened my eyes.

  At my feet, Nasreen lifted her head, yawned, and stretched her spotted body.

  “Good idea.” I did the same, early morning energy awakening my limbs.

  Across the chambers, a pile of clothing lay on the table. The handmaids had collected the garments discarded by the harem women who were eager to return to their families. I appreciated my handmaids’ thoughtfulness. I had more important things to do today than be fitted for queenly garments.

  A knock on the door made me sit upright.

  Duvsha entered with a tray. “There’s already a long line of harem women waiting at the throne room.”

  “Really?” This surprised me. But as I gobbled down the pistachio-sprinkled porridge, I realized women were as eager as men—maybe even more—to prove their skills and worth.

  Duvsha braided my hair in the traditional style and slid a long red dress over my shoulders. She held up the ruby strand I had borrowed from Kepha’s workshop. “These look familiar.”

  “Return them to your father. Tell him those rubies convinced the guards to let me enter the palace.”

  “I can’t. The minister of trade cancelled the order because you dismissed him.” Duvsha draped them over my neck. “Father says they belong to you now.” She looped them twice.