Bono gulped his sorrow. Carino must have lost it.
"Bono." Erika stared at him. "He said he loves you. And wants only you."
Bono cleared his throat but couldn't speak.
"The Queen was mad at him. She couldn't believe her son preferred men. She... hurt him, Bono. I thought she'd kill him in her fury."
"Did she?" he whispered.
"No, but he's still recovering from the punishment. And since Vilma doesn't want him back, the Queen might keep him here, now that Talina is gone. I don't know, maybe she wants to reeducate him herself. But if he's as stubborn as her..."
"She'll break him or kill him," he finished sourly. "I wish I could help him."
Erika pulled away to look him in the eyes.
"Bono, you're the most loved Public Man of Maadre," she said. "Even the Queen is fond of you. If anyone can do anything for Carino, it's you."
He frowned in worry.
"But he declared his love for me! How can I claim him?"
"We all know you're the best." Erika smiled. "He can't corrupt you, but maybe you can teach him some manners."
"I've tried for ten yeas and failed," he grumbled.
"I'm sure you can talk the Queen into leaving him alone..."
***
"I beg your forgiveness, your majesty, for I have failed you." Bono was prostrated in front of the Queen, touching the floor with his forehead.
"In what have you failed me?" Shawanna sounded surprised.
"Lady Vilma had entrusted me with your son's education." He pulled up, but remained on his knees, keeping his eyes low. "I failed to understand him and somehow pushed him to try to run away..."
"You can't be held responsible for my son's screwed mind," she said, thoughtful. "I know you did your best. But Carino is rebellious and too stubborn for his own good!"
"May I have a second chance, your majesty? I would like to try a different approach..."
He felt her blue eyes on him. He'd soon be thirty, they weren't expecting him to keep breeding for much longer. His status allowed him to make some requests, and his dutiful service probably entitled him to ask a favor or two.
"Vilma speaks so highly of you, I was thinking of transferring you to my Apartment," the Queen said. "And since she doesn't want to bother with Carino's tantrums anymore, maybe I could... I'd make him your personal servant, trusting you to make a real man out of him, so that in a year or two he'll be able to perform at least the Rites in the palace. Sereno will take his place at Vilma's, he's much nicer than Carino."
Bono nodded, but didn't dare looking up. Carino's younger brother was making a name for himself in the palace, and Vilma would be very happy to have him instead of aging Bono.
Thus the Public Man moved to the palace and into the Queen's Apartment, where he had his own room. He lost the freedom to wander in the city on his free day, but he wasn't going to miss it. The Apartment was big, with an inner courtyard and a garden where he could breathe some fresh air without wearing the Modesty Cloth. There was a small canteen for the Queen's men and a big bath chamber with two pools, one of cold water and the other thermal, with a sweat-room next to it.
His bed was much bigger than the cot he'd slept in at Vilma's, with curtains to keep the light out. He had a chest for his clothes and a little outhouse on the balcony that hung over a stream running behind the palace. The soft carpet on the floor was a luxury he never expected to find.
When the Queen summoned him, he went to her, determined to thank her for what she'd done for him – and ask when Carino would join him. Shawanna smiled and assured him that as soon as the palace Healer allowed Carino to get up, he'd report to Bono.
Bono thanked her profusely in the best way he could think of, hoping the Queen wasn't past childbearing age and she'd have a reminder of his gratitude. He knew he'd be put to death and buried with her when her time came, but he was sure he still had many years to spend in the Apartment.
Then he went back to his new room and fell asleep in his new soft bed, looking forward to see Carino again.
***
Carino rose from the cot with his back still painted by the whip. His fever was down, so the Healer told him to report to his new post. He'd been assigned to a man of the Queen's Apartment.
Carino didn't say a word, drowning in his own sorrow. He wondered why they hadn't killed him after whipping and abusing him. The only consolation was that his mother's Apartment was on the highest floors and he could attempt to jump to his death from one of the balconies and put an end to his misery.
He reported to the Head of the Apartment, a bulky man who was also head of security in a place where the Queen was the only woman allowed.
"Last door of the corridor." The man pointed him grumpily. "The newcomer is too spoiled already."
Carino ignored the comment. He didn't care about Apartment's matters, and now that he was here, he didn't have to wait for his healthy mother's death to end his existence.
He dragged his feet to the door and knocked.
"Come in!"
He entered, closed the door and stood still, staring at the tiled floor and waiting for orders. He wasn't going to try to be friendly with his mother's latest flavor...
"Carino!"
Startled, Carino found himself in Bono's arms. Incredulous, he dared looking at his beloved's grin, and Bono chuckled, nodding.
"Yes, it's me! You're my personal servant now. The Queen gave me a second chance."
Carino panted, but his voice didn't come out. His mother had heard him scream his love for Bono, why had she allowed this?
Bono smiled and tousled his hair.
"I think your mother loves you," he said tenderly. "Now, if I allow you to do a few things, will you obey me and do your duty?"
"Like what?" Carino's voice came out strangled. His heart was in his throat while his lower body was pressed against Bono's.
"Like being your lover if you stop refusing women."
Carino's eyes widened in wonder.
"You'd do that?" he whispered.
Bono nodded, flooding him with his blue stare. And for the first time since he'd know him, it was Bono who initiated the kiss.
Carino lost himself in Bono's mouth, thinking he might not have to jump off a balcony after all.
Jessamine
1. Notturno
"You did it. How was it?"
Jessamine turned to look at Ileana who was helping her to dress in the white tunic for the Rite. The walls of the bedroom were covered with erotic paintings that had failed so far to impress the blonde princess.
"Great. Your brother was very sweet," her friend answered. She was a blue-eyed brunette who took on a dreamy look. "Obviously I knew who he was and all, but if you relax and let the man do everything, the Rite won't be that horrible."
"What if I like him and want to see him again?" Jessamine pondered. "How can I recognize him?"
"Observe his body, Jess," Ileana suggested with a smile. "Look for special signs, freckles, scars... I'm sure he comes from your mother's Apartment, you can always look him up there!"
Jessamine pursed her lips and nodded.
"How do I look?" she asked, worried.
"You're gorgeous, princess, as usual," Ileana teased. "I must leave now, as soon he'll be here. I wish you a great Rite night..."
Ileana bowed and left. Jessamine frowned at the formal behavior, but she was aware as much as her friend of the importance of that night. Somehow she wished it was over already so she could rush to Ileana's room and discuss it with her.
Jessamine went to lie on the bed, thoughtful. Fourteen years of studies to become a good queen hadn't left her the free time necessary to discover men on her own. She would have loved to discover sex with Ileana, but as princess and heir to her mother's throne they hadn't allowed her to breathe. And now at last she'd have the Rite. Nothing to be afraid of, as it was a knowledge she had been longing for for months now, but she would have preferred to choose the partner and time, without following t
he rules of forceful initiation. Such a shame. She was mature enough to understand that as future queen she had more duties than rights, but sometimes a little voice inside her whined it wasn't fair: she wanted to be free to choose. Thinking about it, though, she'd have the rest of her life to do so, at least regarding men: she could have as many or as few as she chose, as long as she had daughters to continue the Goddess's line.
For a moment she envied her childhood friend who was studying to become a healer. Ileana had more free time. Jessamine had to forget herself for her people, and sometimes it was really difficult. Sometimes it was great, though. Leading her people towards a better future was her highest aspiration at the moment.
Her mother, Queen Tabitha, was very proud of her because she was so scrupulous. She had studied long and hard to learn reading, writing, math, geography, politics and a couple of foreign languages so she should be ready to become queen, when her time would come...
She'd be ready even tonight, she decided, toying with a lock of blond hair. But she was also growing impatient. This wing of the palace was silent. Everybody respected her need for quiet, but it was getting on her nerves. She glanced at the erotic paintings on the wall, but again wasn't very pleased with what she saw. Could two people really do something in those awkward positions?
A cool breeze came and went, moving the curtains of the single window and the red canopy of the bed. Jessamine started to feel the heat of the summer.
The door opened at last, and he came in, wearing the traditional wooden mask over his face. Jessamine noticed his black eyes, then averted her eyes from the wooden face. Useless trying to identify him from there, and the mask wasn't very attractive.
He took off his tunic with a fluid movement. She admired his hairless torso without daring to look down. She noticed some scars and tried to remember them. Her eyes fell on his manhood and quickly went back to study the scars, her heart beating faster. Now she was feeling very hot and she gulped down her feelings, trying to calm down.
He climbed on the bed and lightly caressed her cheek. Jessamine closed her eyes, breathless. She imagined a green meadow, and that he was gorgeous, and relaxed. Her legs opened spontaneously for him, and she was excited to hear him pant behind his mask.
They came together, and she let out a short moan of pleasure. Ileana was right, even with all the restrictions of the Rite, it was great.
He pulled back with a final caress, leaving her dreamy.
***
"How was he?" Ileana asked while they got ready for their daily weapon exercise. "Did he hurt you?"
She was curious to hear her friend's impressions of the Rite. It had been natural for her to fall in Carino's arms, but she wondered if the Rite, being so impersonal and without much foreplay, would be as interesting. Not being able to kiss or cuddle must be awful, after all, and Ileana had heard of girls who hated the Rite, even if she hadn't mentioned it to Jessamine.
"Not at all," Jessamine answered. "He was very good."
Ileana beamed, but her smile vanished with the next sentence.
"I've been thinking... maybe I should find him and ask my mother to give him to me to start my own Apartment," Jessamine said, winking at her.
"Oh, Jess, if he's such an expert, he's probably old!" Ileana said, disappointed. "You can have all the young and good-looking men you want..." The most beautiful princess of the century, a natural blonde, a most loved, sweet girl couldn't settle with someone much older than her! She had her whole life in front of her, for Goddess's sake!
"I know, but he makes me feel safe," Jessamine sighed, getting up from the bench, having finished putting on her sandals.
"But you haven't seen his face, nor heard his voice!" Ileana insisted picking up her sword-belt. She knew her friend would change her mind once she'd met more men.
"That's why I want to meet him." Jessamine winked. "His body told such an interesting story..."
"My Goddess!" Ileana sighed as Jessamine buckled her own sword-belt. "You're the princess. But if I were you, I'd try the son of some Aristocrat..."
"Ile, you got my brother who is the most good-looking of the court," Jessamine teased. "Where am I supposed to find someone like him?"
Ileana blushed, helping her with the leather bracelets. Her friend was right, and she didn't have any brothers to offer. Her mother had rid herself of all her baby boys, keeping only Ileana and her younger sister Ylenia.
"There are others. I mean, your brother isn't the only good-looking one! Why don't you come with me tomorrow? Annabelle's mother has just bought her a gorgeous slave."
"I'll think about it," Jessamine promised. "But if I'm pregnant, I want to meet my daughter's father."
Ileana thought that was uncommon. But then, her friend was uncommon. Some said she was the reincarnation of the first queen, Amazonia, daughter of the Goddess, who had founded the Queendom of Maadre some five centuries ago, uniting the Maadrian tribes under her scepter. Outsiders liked to say the Amazon queens were all heartless, but Ilenia knew the truth: Queen Tabitha was very compassionate, and Jessamine definitely had a heart.
Knowing her friend, Ileana feared the princess would actually stick to her word.
***
The faceless man with the scarred torso took her in his arms and held her tight. His kisses tasted strange. Jessamine woke up excited by the sensual dream that had reminded her of the Rite.
She had met Annabelle's slave and other young men her Aristocrat friends had introduced to her, gushing about their prowess or their beauty or whatever in them had caught their fancy, but she wasn't convinced. She had smiled politely and declined all offers while she kept thinking about the man of the Rite night.
She decided to visit her father to take a look at the other occupants of her mother's Apartment.
Raggio was the oldest and had given the queen both Carino, now seventeen-years-old, and Jessamine. He was blond and still handsome, and the princess looked very much like him. Carino was the younger version of his father - he had the same dazzling smile.
There had been other men and children for Queen Tabitha. Jessamine greeted the ones she knew and observed with curiosity the younger ones. The last one to join the Apartment was twenty and had the looks of somebody who had seen his dream come true: being the Favorite of the queen's Apartment was an honor many dreamed of.
But in spite of the fact he was the youngest and most handsome, Jessamine averted her eyes from him, as he was just like the others she had met at her friends' parties.
"After the Rite I decided it was time to start my own Apartment," she told her father, still looking around the room at the men's faces. "But I hadn’t seen my mother's yet."
"Welcome," her father looked thoughtful. "Goddess, fourteen years already? How time flies!"
"Are you tired of living here?" she asked, curious. He looked happy to see her, but was he actually happy?
"Goddess, no! I've been Tabitha's favorite for long enough. She even kept me here when she stopped visiting me. How lucky is that?" He smiled proudly.
"Why should she sell you again after you gave her Carino and myself?" she replied, amused.
"It's been done before. We don't count, but your mother is a great queen."
Jessamine smiled fondly at him, then looked away. Her eyes met black ones in a pale face surrounded by black hair. He wasn't beautiful in the classical sense, but had something mysterious and exotic that made him attractive. He stood in a corner, on the side of the "retired" men, not where the younger ones eagerly waited for the queen to show up.
Her eyes went down the neck to the half-hidden torso and she recognized the little scars. Her heart missed a beat.
"What’s your name?" she asked going to him and noticing some small scars on his face as well. He must be a former Gladiator.
"Notturno," he replied with a husky voice. How appropriate – both the name and the sound of his bedroom voice. Jessamine shivered with pleasure, but pretended not to.
"How old are you?" she as
ked.
"Twenty-five."
"Where did you get those scars?"
Startled, he covered the opening of his tunic with a hand.
"In the Arena," he answered after a short hesitation.
"Then you can fight," she said. "You know weapons."
He nodded, unsure.
"I want a teacher," she said, satisfied. "I'll request you from my mother."
He bowed, still puzzled, and she left very happy with herself.
***
"You found him?" Ileana couldn’t believe her ears. They were sitting on a carpet with some scrolls they were supposed to use for a history research, but this time Ileana wasn't really interested in ancient queens or even Amazonia's story: her friend's announcement was much more interesting than any old story she could learn. "Did you tell your mother?"
"Of course not." Jessamine frowned at the document in her hands, put it down, picked up another scroll. "He’s an ex-Gladiator. I requested him as fencing master."
"How did you convince your mother to allow a man to train you?" Ileana was puzzled. She knew Jessamine enough to know she always got what she wanted, but this was against all traditions: how could Queen Tabitha allow her daughter to be alone with a man who could fight?
Jessamine grinned.
"Apparently mother trusts him. She was surprised by my request, but quickly agreed." She put down the second scroll, dreamy. "Not even he knows I recognized him yet."
"What does he look like? Isn't he old?" Ileana's curiosity was unstoppable.
"Enough with this 'old' thing!" Jessamine snorted. "He’s dark haired and the exact opposite of Carino, so what? He'll be the father of my children!"
"Ah, well... if you say so..." Ileana picked up a scroll, unconvinced. "When will you start the training?"
"Tomorrow. And tomorrow night..." She smiled, looking forward to it. Ileana sighed. She had a feeling than when Jessamine would become queen, she would change a lot of rules. Not all changes would be bad, some would be for the better, but still... after the war with the Kadenites, the Amazons didn't really need another reformist queen... or did they?
"I wish I could change your mind," she grumbled.
Tales of the Queendom of Maadre Page 16
