Captive Bride 2; Daughter of Sparta

by Andromeda

  “Hello, Mama,” Nkechi said in her soft, baby voice.

  Philomena held out her hand and Nkechi rushed forth, leaping up with her arms outstretched in clear desire to be picked up. Philomena smiled at her little one and bent down, picked her up and placed her on her hip. Nkechi was a light child, and she held her mother tightly before she nodded to the guards for them to continue their walk. The nursemaids followed behind, in case of need.

  “Mama?” Nkechi said softly.

  “Yes?” Philomena answered.

  “Can I go to the whelp house and see the new puppies?” Nkechi asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” Philomena said with a smile. “How about we go tomorrow?”

  “Yes, Mama,” Nkechi said, resting her head on Philomena’s shoulder.

  Philomena smiled and kissed her forehead before she continued her talk. These past four years have gone by in a blur; she didn’t know that time moved that fast. She didn’t expect for her to go to sleep one night with a baby in a crib, then wake up the next day with a child shaking her awake.

  Nkechi reminded Philomena so much of her lost love, and every day the pain was slowly becoming bearable. At first, she couldn’t handle it, but every day when she looked into Nkechi’s smiling face, she knew she had to carry on for the sake of her daughter. She knew that she couldn’t afford to show weakness to her people. They needed a strong woman as their queen, and she was determined to give them just that.

  *******

  Dust kicked up from the hooves of Darius’s stallion as it walked down the roads. They were almost to Sparta, and Darius was nervous. Four years had passed since he had stepped foot into the city-state; four years had passed since he had set eyes upon Philomena. He had told himself that he had gone away in order to fix his realm, but that was only half the truth. He had really gone away to figure out his plan for Philomena; how he was going to approach her

  He had promised Abeeku that he was going to prove himself worthy to be called King Consort. He had promised Abeeku that he was going to prove himself worthy of being Philomena’s husband. He had promised Abeeku that he was going to prove himself worthy to be his daughter’s father. He wasn’t going to break that promise. Thus, he went away in order to cleanse himself of all the sins he felt weighed upon his shoulders.

  The first thing he did was disband his harem. All Kings of Persia had harems before him, yet he wished to be different; so, he sent all the young women who lived in his harem back to their homes. He gave them gifts, but told them to move forward with their lives. Amani was his favorite, as she was with him since youth and he offered to find her a proper husband that would love and respect her. The girl refused and said that if she were to no longer be his mistress, then she would be his servant. Darius found the request rather strange, but he couldn’t refuse her anything and agreed.

  After he had cleansed himself of the women, he changed his appearance also to look more ‘Greek’ for Philomena. He trimmed his beard, so that it was in the style of the Greeks, grew out his hair so that it fell to his shoulders, spent hours in the sun in order to tan his skin, and went riding and lifted weights in order to build his physique. Four long years he worked, yet the end product was worth it. He wanted to be the man that he promised Abeeku he would be. He wanted to be there for Philomena and her daughter; he wanted to be able to call them both his own.

  As they neared the capital city, people began to line the streets, poking their heads out from their houses in order to see who was riding through. No one recognized him, of course, as he had changed so much these past four years, and Darius wanted it that way. He had returned with a light guard and without the Persian royal standard; he wanted everyone to be surprised when he approached the royal palace.

  Philomena was in the gardens, helping her sister Zeta with some herbs when she heard the thundering of horse hooves. She frowned and stood up, wiping her hands on her gown before she walked to the gates in order to see what was going on. Her eyes roamed over the men that were approaching, and for a moment, her breath caught in her throat as she thought that the palace was under attack.

  “Raise the alarm,” she said to a guard who had appeared at her side. “We might be invaded.”

  The guard ran off to do as she said, but as soon as he had left, Darius and his group came to a stop at the gates. He jumped down from his horse and walked to the metal bars, smiling at her.

  “It’s been a long time, Your Highness,” he said.

  Philomena looked at him uncertainly. “Do I know you? What are you doing here?”

  “I know it’s been almost half a decade, my lady, but I would think you’d at least recognize me…seeing as we shared vows not long ago,” he said with a chuckle.

  Her eyes looked him up and down, and when she looked into his blue orbs, her own green ones widened. “Darius…” she whispered in shock.

  “The one and only, my lady,” he said, giving a mock bow. “Might I be allowed into the palace?”

  Slowly, she opened the gates and he alone stepped inside. They were barely inches apart, and he looked deeply into her eyes, his large hands cupped the small of her back, pressing her closer. She could see his nostrils flare slightly, inhaling the scent of her perfume and then he smiled softly.

  “It’s been a very…very…very long time, Your Highness,” he said, his voice rich and thick.

  Philomena’s head was spinning, and she was confused. She didn’t remember him to be this…this…there wasn’t a word for how she felt right now; how he was acting. She couldn’t figure out her feelings, as old resentment bubbled up, but also something she hadn’t felt in a very long time: desire.

  She hadn’t desired a man since Abeeku, and as she looked Darius over…he seemed to be trying to invoke that reaction from her. He looked so…Greek. From his confident, swaggering gait to his physical appearance to the aura oozing off him…; all of this confused her, but also excited her greatly. A strange pulsing throbbed between her thighs, and she had to clamp them shut.

  “Y…Yes, it has…” she stammered. “A…very long time…”

  “How have you been?” he asked, his hands sliding up and down her back.

  “F…Fine…” she stammered again, annoyed a bit that he was turning her into a stammering, blushing little girl. “And yourself?”

  “Much better…now that I see you,” he breathed.

  His hand slid up and cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. They didn’t know how long they stood there, but before either of them knew it, they were leaning close. The feelings that they had been trying to keep hidden were slowly bubbling to the surface. However, before their lips could connect, someone cleared their throat and it snapped the trance.

  They turned and saw Dorian standing there, with several of the royal guards. The young man looked at them, though his eyes were locked onto Darius and they were dark. He was furious, beyond furious. Four years…four years he had been working on his influence in the court, working on his influence upon Philomena, and he thought that he was going to succeed. He used his wits as well as his wealth to get what he wanted, making allies with the right people, trying to wiggle his way into Philomena’s heart…

  The former he still had, yet the latter he could see disappearing before his eyes. Dorian was an excellent judge of character, and just by looking at the two of them together, he could tell that they were falling for each other. The thought infuriated him, as Darius had only been back in the kingdom for less than an hour and it seemed that he and Philomena were ready to tear each other’s clothes off this moment.

  “Hello again, Dorian,” Darius said aloud, not knowing of the man’s inner thoughts. “It is nice to see you again.”

  “I can say the same thing, my lord,” Dorian said through gritted teeth as he bowed. He turned to Philomena. “Shall I tell the guards to stand down?”

  “Y…Yes…” Philomena said nodding, pulling from Darius’s embrace. “Tell them to stand down.”

  Dorian bowed and ba
cked away, but the hatred was clearly there in his eyes, if anyone would look deep enough. He had spent the last four years making allies as well as treaties and breaking them; he had gotten rid of his greatest annoyance easily: Zenon. He would be damned if he let Darius come back and believe he could have what Dorian knows is his by right.

  That will not stand.

  *******

  After everyone was settled, the horses put in the stables and the like, Philomena gave Darius a tour of the palace. It had been four years since he had walked through those white marble halls, and he wanted to see anything that was new. Philomena was more than glad to show him, and she found that as they continued their little expedition, she was enjoying herself.

  “So, you are telling me that you now have fruits called peaches and cherries?” Darius asked her as they walked the fruit gardens.

  “Yes,” Philomena said with a smile. “Matthias brought them from his travels to China. I have told him that I wished to go one day, but I doubt with the kingdom I’ll be able to find the time…”

  Slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist. “You don’t know that. I have found a way to balance my time between Persia and Sparta. I’m sure you will find a way to do it too.”

  She smiled shyly. “You are too kind…”

  “I wasn’t always kind,” he said. “I used to be mean; I used to be hateful towards you over something that wasn’t your fault…”

  “You’re not the only one who is guilty for it…” she said softly. “I’ve been mean to you over things that weren’t your fault either. Sins of the father?”

  “Sins of the father,” he said nodding.

  Suddenly, he stopped her and turned her to face him. Carefully, he cupped her chin between his forefinger and thumb and tilted her face up. His lips brushed over hers gently, like a whisper of silk upon tile, and then he pressed them to hers fully, unable to stop himself.

  She sighed, and surprisingly, found herself pressing closer to him; her body clearly wanting. His hands gently gripped her shoulders before they slid down, holding her waist before they slid down again to grip her rear tenderly, but firmly. Their lips moved in perfect sync, as if their hidden desires for the other were taking control.

  Gently, he lifted her and carried her to a thick oak and pressed her back against it. His lick traveled down to her neck, where he inhaled her scent before he kissed her collarbone and then the base of her throat. She sighed softly, tilting her head back in clear invitation.

  “I can’t hide it anymore…” he whispered. “I went away for four years to become the man that you deserve. The man your daughter deserves. I promised Abeeku a warrior’s promise. I promised him that I would be there for you both; I want to keep that promise, if you let me.”

  She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes…” she whispered; that singular word had a double meaning.

  She was saying yes to giving him a chance, but also yes to wanting his touch. She could almost feel Abeeku smiling at her, nodding at her wisdom, as she knew that he knew that she shouldn’t, couldn’t be alone. And what was most important was that little Nkechi needed a father figure in her life.

  Reaching down, Philomena began to pull up her dress, while Darius unbuckled his belt and opened his leggings. Slowly, he entered her, moving carefully as to not cause her any discomfort or pain. He knew that she hadn’t been with anyone since the birth of her daughter, and four years of being abstained from sex might have made this extremely painful if he wasn’t gentle. Yet, he did everything right.

  He started slowly at first, but it didn’t take him long to build up his pace. They gasped, moaned, groaned and moved their bodies together as one, as they slowly began to make a new cord of life, a cord that would bind them together. His hands on her hips tightened as he increased the power behind his strokes; he could feel his release nearing, yet he wanted to draw his moment out for both of them.

  He grinned, kissing her neck, biting down gently as they took pleasure with each other, and when that moment came for their release, they both cried out together. He groaned, emptying his seeds within her body as he slowed down, before coming to a stop.

  Panting, he smiled at her, kissing her gently before he withdrew. “Damn…that…that was something…”

  “I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t think so, too,” Philomena said shyly.

  “I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t the most amazing time of my life,” he said lazily.

  She laughed softly. “It feels so strange…I’ve spent all this time being angry and hating you over things that weren’t your fault. The death of my father…of Abeeku… You didn’t have any power over that…and for that, I am sorry.”

  He cupped her chin again. “You are more than forgiven,” he said. “And if it makes you feel any better…I ask your forgiveness, too. For bringing Amani here when it wasn’t her place, and constantly belittling you…”

  “You are more than forgiven,” she said smiling, her emerald orbs locked onto his. “Four years has brought a lot of change…but I’m willing to give us a chance…”

  “That’s all I ask for,” he said.

  They fixed each other’s clothes before they hurried to her bedroom. Once there, they fell into each other’s arms, drinking their feel of passion and desire until the sun arose.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ajax grinned as he kissed Zenobia’s inner thigh before he slid up to look into those grey eyes that he loved. They had been officially together for almost a decade now, and had been going strong. Of course, they had their moments, like all couples, but that only made them stronger. Ajax was getting to the point where his feelings had turned from a simple infatuation and wanting to please her, to having feelings that resembled love.

  He was unsure of how she would react if he told her his feelings; whether she felt the same way or would just laugh at him. He knew that he would never be Alexander of Sparta; he didn’t want to be Alexander, but he would want her to at least know how he felt.

  “Zenobia,” he said slowly. “I have something to tell you…”

  “Yes?” she said, tilting her head to the side. “What is it?”

  He opened his mouth to confess, as he was always a straightforward man, but before he could, there was a knock on the door. Zenobia sat up and pulled on a gown before she walked to the door. Srax, Anthea, Titus and Kila stood there, their faces serious.

  Zenobia was shocked to see all her old friends as they rarely came to court, other than Srax and Kila. But she stepped aside and let them inside, not knowing what was going on.

  Anthea looked at a naked Ajax, who was covering himself with the bedsheets and snorted. “Do not flatter yourself,” she said. “Do you really think I’d find any part of you desirable?”

  “I just thought your husband wouldn’t want to see me walking around his wife naked,” Ajax shot back.

  Anthea’s lips curved into a smirk. “This one has fire, Zen; at least you picked a good one to warm your bed.”

  Zenobia blushed slightly. “Thank you, Anthea, for your approval; it means so much to me…”

  “As much as we’d love to be here for pleasantries, Zen,” Srax said, “we are here for a much graver matter.”

  Zenobia tilted her head. “What is going on?”

  “Do you know of a man named Dorian?” Kila asked.

  Zenobia nodded. “Yes, I do. He lives here at court, why?”

  “Apparently, he is planning treason against you,” Srax said. “And we have proof.”

  Zenobia frowned. “Explain what you mean.”

  “We have several spies throughout the courts and realms,” he explained. “And they have come to us with reports of his acts.”

  He showed her the papers, and every line she read made her grow more and more enraged. She had warned him; she remembered the warning she had given him when he first arrived in the palace and he seemed to have forgotten. Zenobia was never one to break a promise, everyone knew that, and she planned on delivering that
promise she made him.

  “I want his head on a platter!” she said through gritted teeth. “I want his tongue ripped out and fed to the hawks!”

  “Easy, Zenobia,” Ajax said. He had pulled on a pair of leggings and stood at her side. “We will have to go about this carefully.”

  “The man is right,” Anthea said. “If we let Dorian know we are onto him, he might flee and continue his treason elsewhere. We need to go about this carefully, but I have a plan…”

  *******

  Philomena and Nkechi walked in the gardens; the mother smiled as her daughter ran ahead to a patch of roses and reached for a large blossom. As she did so, a thorn pricked her finger, and the little one jumped back, wailing as if a lion had bitten off her hand. Her mother rushed over and knelt at her side, taking her small hand in her larger one.

  “Hush, little one,” she cooed soothingly. “It’s alright…”

  Nkechi whimpered, her large brown eyes swam with tears as a small droplet of red appeared on her finger tip.

  “What is wrong, little one?” a deep voice said, making them turn around.

  Philomena looked and saw Darius approaching them. She blushed slightly and turned away, trying to hide it. He had been in Sparta for almost a month now, and virtually every night he had spent in her bed. Every day was new for them, as he constantly was there to take her to dinner, to walk with her in the gardens, to sit silently in the council meetings and listen to what was going on. He wanted to know everything about her; he bought her a new gift every day, almost as if he was courting her.

  “Flower hurt me,” Nkechi said, holding up the small, bleeding finger.

  “That was mean of the flower,” Darius said, kneeling before her. “Shall I make that flower pay for what it’s done?”

  Nkechi giggled softly. “You can’t do that! It’s a flower!”

  “That flower still had no right to hurt a princess!” Darius said dramatically. “I will make that flower pay for what it’s done! But until then, how about I take you to the kitchen and see if they have a sweet treat for you? If your mother says it’s OK…?”