“Melara and all the gods be praised for bringing you to me,” Darien whispered in her ear.
Saerileth pulled away, though she did not release his cock. Instead she stroked it slowly. “The gods? No, it was your own goodness that saved me.” She laid her palm flat against his bare chest. “In here beats the kindest, most noble heart I have ever known.”
“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“Alone?”
“Especially alone.” Darien thought of Kamen just then, but he was not as jealous as he had been. Sure, he had had a part of Saerileth Darien had not, but she did not love or desire Kamen. But Saerileth’s blue eyes danced with mischievous merriment that told Darien she was thinking of something else. “Oh, yes, the concubines. Yes, I’m glad you sent them away. Though I’ve never doubted their gratitude, they never responded the right way to me.” He did not want to mention sex with them, for Saerileth’s jealousy would flare up at the slightest provocation. “You know.”
Saerileth smiled, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him again. “You are too big for them. They told me.”
Darien laughed. Now that her competition were gone, Saerileth apparently had no problem talking about the concubines’ sexual relations with the Master. “So, it’s just us, then.” He moved Saerileth so that his cock pressed between her legs, and her stomach lay against his.
“Your arrows, sir,” Aben’s voice broke in. The steward indicated arrows sticking in the grass next to the firing spot.
“Another round, then?” Darien asked. He wondered if he could out-shoot Saerileth, more a matter of curiosity than competition. They both excelled in their training, but Darien was curious as to whether Saerileth’s first shot had been a fluke or whether the guild truly did train their Lotuses in archery.
Saerileth nodded and disengaged herself from Darien, making her way over to the other side of the pool. She would shoot first in the second round, but as she drew back her bow to fire, a cry of alarm rose from the house. Saerileth spun toward the porch, and Darien looked, too. Aben ran across the lawn to investigate, so Darien strode over to stand next to Saerileth. They both readied arrows. The shouting turned to wailing, and Aben soon reappeared. He wept as he came, and behind him ran one of Darien’s guards hired to escort the concubines to the country house. Grimy dust and blood covered the guard’s sweaty skin. He ran up to Darien and fell to his knees in the grass, his chest heaving in exerted breaths, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
Darien lowered his bow, and his voice was quiet and dangerous. “Speak, man.”
The guard glanced up into Darien’s eyes, but he quickly looked away, choosing to keep his gaze fixed on the ground before him. “We were ambushed. They killed all the women and made off with all the gold and jewelry, and I alone am escaped to tell you.”
Numbness spread through Darien’s limbs. “What about the other guards?”
“Dead.”
“And didn’t you fight?”
“I did, but I knew the fight was lost. Someone had to get back to tell you what had happened.”
“Why?”
The guard looked up and blinked rapidly. Darien’s question was vague, but the guard attempted an answer. “They were dressed like highwaymen, but I saw through that disguise at once. They fought like seasoned soldiers. This was a strike, not some mere robbery. I don’t know if you have enemies, but I thought you’d want to know.”
Darien nodded and could not speak for several moments. When at last he found his voice, he said, “You did right, man. If it was as you say, then there’d have been no survivors, and I would’ve never learned what had happened.” He still felt nothing but a strange floating feeling, as if his feet were no longer on the ground. He looked down. They were. What had he just been doing? Archery? He let the bow slip from his hand. His concubines were dead. Lia, Aneke, and the others – all rescued from slavery. Lia, a war widow captured. Aneke, to be sold to pay her family’s debt. And the others, saved from gang-rape aboard ship. Darien had saved them all, and now they were dead.
Darien turned and waded right out into the middle of the pool. He did not even stop to remove his sandals. He needed to feel the cool water on his burning skin; he needed something to keep him from floating away. The water hugged his flesh, wrapped itself around his waist and held him to the earth. His concubines’ souls were already fleeing above him, in the air, racing toward the gods. Darien looked up and stared directly into the blazing white light of the sun, Jehiel’s own palace.
Darien heard Saerileth talking low behind him, but he did not turn to listen. Then he heard a disturbance in the water, like someone stepping in. The next thing he knew, Saerileth had laid her arms around his neck, hugging him from behind.
“They’re dead,” Darien said. Still no sorrow, no rage. Just numbness. Only Saerileth’s touch he could feel. And the water.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Saerileth’s answer was long in coming, but Darien waited. He stared at the sparkling ripples of water that settled around him. “If the assailants disguised themselves, then they had a specific purpose,” Saerileth said. “Someone killed them to get to you, to injure you.”
“I have only one enemy.”
“Ulen Ahnok.”
Darien repeated the name, and it was like an invocation. Wrath exploded from him, and he raised his mighty arms, his muscles cording in his fury. “Ulen?” Could it have been him? He leaped from the pool and snatched up the first thing he could find: his bow. With his bare hands he bent the limb until it splintered and snapped in two.
“Why them?” Darien asked. “Why not strike at me directly if he hates me?”
Saerileth walked around to stand in front of Darien. She placed her hands flat against his chest and looked up into his eyes. “Kamen thought that I was going with them.”
Kamen? Kamen. Ulen wanted Saerileth, and Darien had seen Kamen and Ulen talking. Maybe Kamen mentioned something about the concubines being shipped north. If Ulen had thought Saerileth would be among them, then he would have made his move. If he had killed everyone off, then there would have been no witnesses. It would have seemed that Saerileth escaped the slaughter, not been abducted, and Ulen could have claimed her. Kill everyone and bring the Lotus to me – those must have been Ulen’s orders. At that moment, Darien realized how close he had come to losing Saerileth, too. He grabbed her and caught her up in a tight hug, lifting her off her feet.
“I could have lost you.”
Saerileth smoothed his hair. “But you did not.”
“How can I prove Ulen’s involvement?”
“You cannot,” Saerileth said, “at least not on the testimony of one guard. He saw soldiers dressed as thieves. That proves nothing.”
Holding Saerileth with only his forearms pressed against her, Darien clenched and unclenched his fists. He wanted to kill Ulen, to rip his tongue from his mouth and gouge out his eyes, to choke the life out of him with his own two hands. He could see Ulen at that moment, sitting in his rich house, drinking too much, and waiting for his ill-gotten prize to be delivered to him. If only Darien could be the one to walk into his house and tell him that he had failed to get what he had murdered for.
“I must do something. I won’t let that bastard get away with this.”
“Of course,” Saerileth said, “but you are Sunjaa. You are a man of the law. We will find a way – that way – to prosecute him. Ulen is a fool, and this is but the first of his mistakes.”
Rage gave way to sorrow, and Darien collapsed on the grass. As his tears flowed, he mourned the deaths of his concubines. “I failed them! I rescued them from slavery – and for what? So that they could be slaughtered in their litter on some country road in the middle of nowhere?” Guilt seized him, and all his anger against Ulen disappeared. He alone was to blame. He alone had failed them.
Saerileth took Darien’s face in her hands. “No! No, Darien. This is not your fault. How could you have known? How coul
d you have predicted such a deed?”
Darien shook his head. He did not know how; he just knew he should have.
“You saved me,” Saerileth said, kissing his forehead and letting him weep on her breast.
Darien lost himself in the pain of his regret, but through his dark journey of shame, he was aware of Saerileth’s nearness, aware of her life. Her touch had never felt sweeter than there in the midst of his sorrow.
Saerileth leaned in and kissed his lips. “Come inside, my love. Your Lotus yet lives.”
****
Saerileth’s soft fingertips were like silk on Darien’s skin. The bedroom was dark and cool with the curtains drawn. Scented candles burned near the base of the wall, and Darien’s heart nearly burst with gratitude at all Saerileth was doing to try to put him at ease. He took another sip of his wine and then laid his head back in Saerileth’s lap. She wiped the last bits of sweat from his brow, and the morning’s heat was felt no more. She caressed his cheek and traced the contour of his muscular neck and shoulder as she hummed a light, beautiful Zenji tune. Darien reached back and touched her thighs, wanting to feel the softness of her flesh beneath his hands. He needed her close; he needed her to stay close forever. Darien kept his eyes closed, sensing Saerileth only through touch, heightening his desire for her. He felt her kisses on his eyelids, and he smiled. Saerileth could be sexy, and she could be sweet; she could be the life of the party or be alone with him. Darien opened his eyes just as Saerileth leaned in, from his vantage point upside down, for a kiss of his lips. Their mouths touched, and he felt from her such passion and tenderness at the same time, as if it were their first and last kiss.
His hunger for her awakened, Darien flipped himself over and pushed Saerileth down on the bed. He yanked at her short gown, and it tore free, revealing her perfect, naked body beneath. Her white skin against the dark purple sheets was a thing of indescribable beauty to him, and he made it his mission to kiss every inch of her. She sat halfway up and helped him remove his skirt, already raised by his growing cock. There was no foreplay, none of the practiced coyness. Saerileth beckoned him forward, and he plunged his massive phallus into her cunt. She had been wet for some time, for even her pussy lips were slick.
Saerileth was Darien’s, and he was hers. He had her, and she was all he needed. Joy mingled with desire as he realized afresh that Saerileth still lived, that she had been spared. He drove his cock in all the way and hunched over her, pausing to kiss her lips, to tell her with his kisses just how happy he was. The sorrow of the past hour was gone, for who could mourn when Saerileth was near? He was one with her. Saerileth held him inside her with her heels against his backside, and she returned his kisses with fervor that surprised Darien. Had they not just met? Her first orgasm struck her then, and she gave out a lip-locked whine.
Darien lay back, and he brought Saerileth with him, placing her on top. She rode him, took his cock deep inside her, rocking her pelvis back and forward so that Darien could feel the narrowness of her vagina all the way down his shaft. His cum built up inside him, eager to pour itself into its new home. They fell into a steady rhythm of bliss, and Saerileth’s body was wracked by orgasms again and again. Then, suddenly, she leaned forward far enough for Darien to pop out. He looked into her eyes, but she only answered with a sly smile. She reached back and grabbed his cum-coated cock and placed it against her anal rosebud. Darien opened his mouth in silent shock. Again, Saerileth did not respond with words. She placed a light, playful kiss on the end of his nose, and that innocent gesture, coinciding with him entering her ass, nearly made him lose it.
He felt his long shaft slide all the way in, and he marveled at how he had disappeared completely inside her and how comfortably Saerileth sat on top of him.
“Saeri?” That was all he could say. He had fucked men before, but this was altogether different, altogether sexier.
“I’ve been secretly practicing with a plug,” she said, giving her pelvis a little wiggle that sent more blood rushing into his phallus. He was fully hard.
Kamen leaped into Darien’s thoughts, but only for a moment. He was relieved to know that it was not Kamen who had had to break her in. Saerileth took control, and Darien did not impede her, for he was too afraid to move lest he injure her. He let her take him at her own pace, and that pace quickened as she fucked his cock with mounting passion. She moaned and turned her face to the ceiling, her eyes fluttering closed. Saerileth’s long black hair falling down her back, her slim, white neck, her perfect, full breasts, her slim waist – Darien could not take it any more.
He pulled his knees in and sat up, spun Saerileth around so she was on her knees, and slammed her face down into the mattress. Her ass was the highest point on her body, exposed and ready. Darien drove into her, and Saerileth reached back, clawing at his legs as he did so. He fucked her until she howled, and as she announced her coming orgasm, Darien, too, felt his about to erupt. A few more pumps, and he could wait no longer. He thrust forward one final time and released his seed into her. This caused Saerileth to buck against him quickly two or three times until she came.
Darien eased Saerileth forward until she lay flat on the bed, and then he collapsed on top of her, wrapping her up in his arms. Even though Ulen had tried to ruin his life and separate them, Darien had Saerileth, and nothing would separate them. Ever.
Chapter Eleven
“If you are not certain, Darien, then I will stay here.” Saerileth lay beside him, still entwined in his arms. They had kissed and loved and fucked all through the night, and the sight of even the slightest pain in Darien’s eyes was more than she could endure.
“And insult the Princess Royal?” Darien smiled slightly, and Saerileth kissed his curving lips. “How would that affect my conquest of Sunjaa society?”
“My love, I am not merely your Lotus. I am your concubine, too. Your social position is less to me than your happiness.”
“You are more than my concubine, more than my Lotus, more than my life.” Darien cradled her against his chest, and Saerileth listened to the evenness of his heart. “I am sorry for the deaths of the others, and I shall prove Ulen’s involvement. But you, Saeri, are everything. So long as I have you, no sorrow can break me.”
Saerileth kissed the head of the water-serpent tattoo on Darien’s chest. “I love you, Darien.”
“And I love you.” Darien kissed her brow. “But I am not yet so paranoid that I cannot let you out of my sight for some three hours.” He smiled again, a stronger smile this time. “So get you to the Princess Royal. I will wait here for you, and when you return this afternoon, we will go together to the Royal Hall of Records. Perhaps we can learn more of Ulen’s activities through his tax records.”
Saerileth knew that Darien meant this to be as much for her own vengeance as his, and she leaned up and kissed his chin. “We shall have him, Darien. I swear to you by your own eyes that he shall die for what he has done to you.”
Darien pressed her against himself for a brief moment, but then, with a quick slap to her buttock, he said, “Then go, so that you may soon come back!”
Saerileth obeyed, bathing and dressing quickly. She set out in a litter for the palace, and she saw Darien watching from the window until she was out of sight. Only when the house was hidden around the corner did Saerileth allow the litter curtains to fall back. Alone in the cool dimness of the litter, she smoothed down her pallav. Her ass was sore beyond words, but she was not wearing a plug. Those would no longer be necessary. She reached into the pocket of her pallav and pulled out her herbs. Though she had already drunk the necessary contraceptive herbs, she still needed the case, for it was in there that she kept the powder she used to cover the more obvious of the bruises Darien’s rough love-making left on her skin. The opacity of her Zenji skirt, coupled with careful draping of her pallav, would serve to conceal the hand-shaped bruises on her hips, but the bruise on her throat would require powder.
By the time the litter stopped in front of the palace, Sa
erileth was confident no one would know the extent of the violence with which she and Darien enjoyed each other. She stepped daintily out of the litter, dismissing the bearers to loiter about the royal courtyard. Two pages led her through the wide, spacious corridors of the palace to the private apartments of the Princess Royal. These rooms were on the third floor, and they overlooked the royal gardens. Saerileth noticed, as a herald announced her presence, that these chambers bore the royal insignia. They were, clearly, the queen’s apartments, and Saerileth smiled inwardly. It was yet further proof of the king’s affection for his concubine.
“Saerileth.” The Princess Royal rose from her seat and held out her hands to Saerileth. Beyond the Princess Royal Saerileth saw the Crown Prince Jahen playing.
“Highness.” Saerileth bowed as she took the other woman’s hands.
“No, we have gone beyond that, or else I should call you ‘Lotus’.” The Princess Royal pressed Saerileth’s hands. “Call me ‘Aramina’.”
Saerileth nodded. She knew that no one in all of the Sunjaa nation would call the Princess Royal by her name, excepting only His Grace the king. “Yes, Aramina.”
The Princess Royal smiled. “You said that without hesitation! How quickly you know how to lay aside troublesome protocol.”
Saerileth returned the smile, but she did not speak her thought. It was only natural for Saerileth, trained as a Lotus, to be able to put people at ease. “How may I serve you?” she asked.
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