Consort (Beyond Ontariese 6)

by Cyndi Friberg

“Of course.” A cruel smile parted Eagin’s lips. “That was the point. He needs to know how easily I can get to him if I choose to reclaim what’s mine.” He tossed back his gold-streaked hair, gaze narrowed and bright.

  Nasrin watched him with cold objectivity. He was tall and lean, young and strong, yet his body lacked the breath-stealing definition his brother possessed. Eagin’s features were proportionate and balanced. The rings in his eyes were bronze rather than the pure gold shared by every legitimate member of San Adrin’s royal family, but they were beautiful all the same.

  Still, despite the physical similarities, Eagin was not Indric.

  A warrior’s fiery spirit burned within Indric. He was a born leader, honorable, with unshakable integrity. A true king. A worthy mate for Nasrin, Queen of the Fire Islands. Trouble was, the qualities that attracted Nasrin to Indric were also the qualities that made him unattainable.

  She had approached Indric after he’d finished mourning his third consort. It was obvious he was lonely and restless. And they were feelings she understood all too well. King Karu had chosen her as his consort when she was seventeen. Providing him with three healthy sons had elevated her from consort to queen and his death had left her both free and vulnerable.

  Governing queens were rare on Bilarri. Most queens were extensions of their mates with no real power of their own. Many saw Nasrin’s situation as an opportunity to take control of her small but important region. Nasrin had spent eleven cycles stifled within her husband’s control and she had no intention of ever relinquishing that power again.

  So she’d set her sights on Indric. He was handsome and powerful, well respected and even tempered. Most importantly, he didn’t strike her as the sort of man who would abuse a female for any reason. Theirs could be a marriage of equals, a mutually beneficial alliance that would strengthen both their regions.

  She also had three strong sons and Indric had been unable to impregnate any of his three consorts. She could offer him an alternative to allowing Eagin to inherit the San Adrin throne. Yet pointing out the obvious advantages of combining their power failed to stir his interest.

  Stubborn by nature, Nasrin refused to give up. She flirted and teased, hoping to appeal to the man rather than the king. Nothing worked. Indric was simply not in the market for another mate.

  Suddenly Eagin shifted both her wrists into one hand and pinched her nipple hard. The pleasure/pain made her gasp and jarred her from her troubled thoughts. “He doesn’t want you any more than he wants me. Stop thinking about him.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about him. Now get off me or I’ll catch your hair on fire.”

  Obviously unafraid of the threat, he found the hem of her cropped bodice and inched it up along her torso. “You intentionally interrupted my pleasure. I think it’s only fair that I finish inside you.”

  Desire sparked to life between her thighs, but Nasrin did her best to ignore it. Allowing Eagin to know how easily he aroused her gave him an advantage she wasn’t willing to yield. “Tell me about this woman who has Indric so enthralled. Is she beautiful or just especially skilled?”

  He pulled her arms above her head and crossed her wrists, then he slowly let go. “Stay like that. If you move, I’ll flip you over and finish the way I like best.”

  A secret thrill sent lust rushing through her. No one dared to speak harshly to her, much less suggest she submit to the sorts of pleasures Eagin “liked best”. It was part of the reason she found him so exciting. He was dark and demanding, forceful in ways she’d never dreamed could be so pleasurable. She closed her hands into fists but kept her arms positioned exactly as he’d left them.

  With torturous slowness, he tugged her bodice up, baring her breasts, then forming a loose binding around her wrists. She could tug her hands free at any time, yet it added to her excitement when she pretended she was helpless.

  Her breasts were firm and round, so she seldom bothered with support garments. Golden rings pierced her nipples, a delicate chain connecting the two. She’d done this for him, never guessing how decadent she’d find the experience or how often she used the chain to bring herself pleasure.

  Hooking the chain with his index finger, he pulled until the rings tugged on her nipples and lifted her breasts. “I suppose she’s pretty, in a pale, puny sort of way.”

  Nasrin blinked. What the hell was he talking about? Oh, that’s right, she’d asked about Indric’s mistress. With sleek black hair streaming to womanly hips and full breasts, she would never be described as pale or puny. “He’s surrounded by dark hair and golden skin. Perhaps it’s simply the novelty.”

  Eagin shook his head. He let the chain drop then pinched both nipples until she cried out. “She has some sort of hold over him and I will find out exactly what it is.”

  Annoyed by his obsession with another woman, Nasrin pushed up, rubbing her mound against his erection. “Let’s talk after.”

  His brows arched and he lifted her skirt to her waist. “I want to talk now.”

  Eagin loved games, the more twisted the better. If he needed to talk, then fine, she’d talk, as long as he kept touching her. “Tell me about Indric’s slut.” She rolled her hips, drawing his gaze to her lace-covered sex. “Does he share her with his guards? How long has their liaison been going on?”

  “He brought her home like a stray pet nearly ten cycles past.” He tore off her panties and tossed them over his shoulder.

  “Ten cycles?” Air wafted across her slit, making her folds tingle. Part of her wanted him to ram himself home and take her hard and fast. Yet another part wanted him to tease her for hours with his fingers and mouth before he finally pushed inside. “Isn’t that a long time for a man to stay with one woman?”

  He grabbed the backs of her knees and pushed her legs farther apart. “Depends on the woman.” He released her legs, but she kept them bent and open, offering herself to whatever pleasure he chose to give. He traced her slit with the tip of one finger then sucked her cream from his fingertip. “We hunger for this like starved animals, yet what we really want is a fertile ground in which to plant our seed.”

  Farming metaphors. How romantic. She closed her eyes so he couldn’t see her frustration. “But in Indric’s case the problem is with the seed, not the ground in which he’s planting.” She was tired of talking, tired of thinking up pointless questions. Then a legitimate thought popped into her mind and she opened her eyes. “Any chance he’ll legitimize the boy?”

  “You bitch,” Eagin sneered and flipped her over onto her stomach.

  For a terrified moment she couldn’t figure out what she’d done wrong. Why was he so angry? Then she realized her mistake. Eagin had been legitimized when he was just a boy only to have the honor yanked away the day his father died.

  She started to apologize, but he pulled up on her hips and kneed her legs apart and then thrust into her brutally. Fortunately, he filled her core not her back passage as she’d feared. She released her breath in a ragged hiss and tried to relax. The steady movement of his thick shaft should rekindle her desire. It really didn’t take much to get her off.

  “Knowing my luck, he’ll bond with the bitch.” His fingers dug into her flesh and his hips missed a beat before resuming their forceful rhythm.

  “She’s nobody.” She tightened her inner muscles and concentrated on the sensual slide, trying to find the right angle so he’d hit her internal trigger. “The people would never allow it.”

  He pulled out and moved to her side, his expression tight with worry. “The people of San Adrin adore Indric. It’s just as likely they’ll welcome this mysterious woman with open arms and rejoice in the long-awaited happiness of their king.” Bitterness rang through in every word.

  “You could openly challenge his right to rule. Like it or not, your father already established your blood claim to the throne. Indric would be honor bound to answer the challenge.”

  Hatred hardened his features. “I can’t beat Indric in single combat. I’m not foolish enough t
o try. But he has many enemies. It’s just a matter of time before one of them removes my obstacle for me.”

  “Or until whatever you arrange is made to look as if they did?”

  He just grinned and rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him. She settled astride his hips and guided his cock to her aching passage. Questions buzzed through her mind. She was dying to know more about this mystery child and learn Indric’s plans for the future. Even so, she kept her mouth shut and established a strong, steady rhythm. There was no way in the five hells she was going to say another word until after they’d both found pleasure.

  * * * * *

  Cinarra sat on the thickly padded seat of a luxury skimmer, hands folded in her lap. She was making a conscious effort not to fidget, but her nerves were stretched so tight she wanted to scream. True to his word, Indric had returned at dusk with an armed escort. The two luxurious skimmers each had four outriders. And if that weren’t conspicuous enough, the royal seal was clearly visible on each vehicle. By this time tomorrow everyone in Camp Rabadah, perhaps everyone in San Adrin, would know King Indric had moved his mistress to the palace. Anonymity and secrecy had failed to keep Betaul safe. Hopefully this royal spectacle would be more effective.

  The skimmer was smooth, quiet and climate controlled, so different from the crowded heat of the public trams. Not that she spent a lot of time on public trams. To be honest, she seldom left the house, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was leaving behind everything she knew and was about to be thrust into an utterly alien environment.

  Ametto rode with the boys in the first skimmer, leaving the second for Indric and Cinarra. Indric looked particularly handsome with amusement shining in his dark eyes. “You holding up okay?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered the confession with a sigh. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”

  “I expect nothing from you. I hope we can use this time together to learn more about each other and explore our options as a couple. Does that sound so horrible?”

  “It’s not that simple and you know it.”

  “It’s only as complicated as we choose to make it.” His expression grew tense and serious before he added, “If you’re not ready for this, I can wait. It’s already been nine cycles. What’s a few more days?” He tried to soften the observation with a smile, but his gaze remained intense.

  She nodded and turned her attention out the window. The city had begun as five unique tribal camps, so even hundreds of cycles later each section had a distinct personality. Her house was in the area settled by the Vistalba tribe. They were skilled artisans and free thinkers, which was reflected in colorful murals and street-corner vendors selling handcrafted wares. It was a popular area for tourists, but the Vistalba were considered uncouth by the nobility.

  The skimmer passed through the Wendroth section of the city with its grand houses and immaculate common greens. The closer they drew to the palace the larger the houses became until Cinarra had to drag her gaze away from the imposing scenery.

  “I don’t think I can do this.” She pressed her hand over her pounding heart. “I’ll seem so unsophisticated, so…naïve.”

  Indric moved across the passenger car and sat beside her, extending his arm along the top of her seat. “There is no reason to be frightened. Regardless of their preening, the courtiers are no better than you. In fact, most are far lower on the social scale than High Queen of Ontariese.”

  She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze. “Krystabel dar Aune is dead and I don’t intend to resurrect her. I am Cinarra Mazodie, Bilarrian widow with a murky past.”

  “Are you attracted to me?” Challenge returned to Indric’s deep voice and Cinarra looked into his eyes.

  “You know I am.”

  “Do you think you could feel more than physical desire?”

  Charlotte had encouraged her to be honest with Indric, and with herself. It would be easier to assure him that her heart was open and ready for love. Instead, she told him the truth. “I’m not sure. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to shut the door on something special just because I’m intimidated by the unknown, but I’m not going to pretend to feel more than I actually do. That wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

  “Good answer.” He raised his hand and brushed his knuckles along her jawline. The touch was featherlight and still her skin tingled. His thumb teased the corner of her mouth for just a second and then he lowered his arm. “We’re almost there.” He nodded toward the window.

  She turned her head and gasped. She’d seen holofiles of Indric’s palace, but the images hadn’t begun to capture the grandeur or scale of reality. The palace sat atop a tiered hill, effortlessly dominating the horizon. The main building was three stories high with railed galleries and five majestic domes. A wide, tiled promenade stretched from the base of the hill to the arched front entrance. Lined by towering amolik palms, the promenade was obviously designed to accommodate visitors as they waited for their chance to be admitted to the palace.

  “Wow,” she whispered.

  Indric chuckled. “Wait until you see the inside. The palace was built by my grandfather and he had a fondness for extravagance.”

  The skimmer circumvented the promenade and pulled to a stop on the curved drive directly in front of the palace. Liveried servants rushed forward, helping her out of the skimmer and unloading her luggage. Indric pressed his hand against the small of her back as he ushered her into the palace.

  Massive transparent doors swept open before them and Cinarra’s steps faltered. Cool air swirled around her, sending a chill down her spine. It was hard to believe they were in the middle of Bilarri’s largest desert. A wide reception hall stretched out before her, polished tiles gleaming white on the floor and walls. Tall pillars, capped with golden palm fronds supported the dramatically vaulted ceiling. Everything was clean and opulent, rich yet elegant.

  Indric cupped her elbow and guided her toward a small cluster of uniformed staff. A distinguished-looking couple separated themselves from the others. “This is Mores, my head steward and indispensable right hand.”

  “Welcome, Madam Mazodie.” A warm smile softened the head steward’s craggy features. “We hope your travels weren’t too exhausting.”

  “Not at all. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Mores bowed briefly before he introduced his companion. “This is Terez. She is entirely at your disposal. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. She’ll help acquaint you with palace protocol and answer any of your questions.”

  Terez inclined her head and Cinarra smiled.

  “Take some time and settle in,” Indric advised. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

  He started off across the lobby with Mores and panic lurched through Cinarra. “Wait. Where were Betaul and Dravon taken? Will I be allowed to see them?”

  “Of course.” Indric quickly returned to her side and pressed her hand between his. “There’s about two hours until dinner. Relax and stop worrying. Palace security is extensive and the boys are strictly supervised. Terez can take you to see them on your way to dinner if you like.” He looked at the older woman and she nodded in response to the directive.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For all of this.”

  He kissed her hand then resumed his trek across the spacious lobby.

  “Your rooms are this way, dear.” Terez prompted.

  Cinarra followed her in the opposite direct from where the men had gone. This all felt so needlessly formal. Indric was her friend. But her friend was also a king with myriad responsibilities and hordes of people vying for his attention.

  Terez walked at her side, three staff members hurrying along behind them. The corridors became a blur long before they arrived at the rooms reserved for Cinarra. The suite was on the third floor, overlooking a courtyard. She pushed open the doors leading to the railed balcony, awed by the beauty before her. A stone footpath meandered between flowerbeds and potted trees on its way to the
fish pond at the far end of the courtyard. It was charming and tranquil, a private oasis few would ever experience.

  “Come, child. We’ve a lot to accomplish and not much time left to get it all done.”

  Annoyed by Terez’s condescending tone, Cinarra closed the doors then turned around. “I’m older than I look. Please don’t call me ‘child’, and I wasn’t aware I was on a deadline.”

  “King Indric generally dines at eight and he’s expecting you,” Terez reminded, her dark gaze cool and assessing.

  “Will it be just the king and I?”

  “I don’t know, Madam Mazodie. I was only told to prepare you for the evening.”

  Cinarra sighed. The welcoming warmth Terez had shown since Cinarra’s arrival was suddenly gone. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. My name is Cinarra and I really do look much younger than I am. I have a daughter who is thirty-three.”

  Terez looked skeptical, but she managed to smile. “I didn’t mean to offend you. May we please begin again?”

  “I’d like that.” Cinarra returned her smile and took a deep breath. Palace life was sure to be different from her isolated house on the outskirts of town and Terez held the key to Cinarra’s success. “What do I need to know so I don’t make a fool of myself tonight?”

  “I’ve ordered a full spa treatment for you tomorrow, but we don’t have enough time for anything elaborate tonight.”

  A full spa treatment? She’d never set foot in a spa. Rather than make herself seem even more backward, she just nodded and produced an occasional smile.

  “Several designers have already sent over garments, hoping their styles will catch your eye, but the king wanted me to stress that all wardrobe choices are entirely up to you. If you’re more comfortable in your own clothing, the designers will have to try again once they’ve gotten to know you.”

  Walking from the foyer to her room had been enough to make Cinarra anxious to explore other clothing options. The staff uniforms were more elegant than anything she possessed. Then a niggling thought burned away her excitement. “How did these designers know I’d be visiting the king?”