by Sylvia Day
“Tomorrow, Brenna. Before I change my mind.”
“Yes, of course.”
Gunther stared at her for a long moment. Then he shook his head and made his egress.
To go to her. To Sapphire.
Brenna fought back the bile that rose in her throat. She had only hours left to wait until the mätress would be gone.
Then the king would be hers again.
As Sapphire made love to the King of Sari, her mind was firmly on her job. She barely registered the opulence of her surroundings, heeding them only in passing recognition of their enhancement of her duties. Simulated candlelight and smoky incense drifted lazily through the room. White stone arches draped in blue velvet circled the divan where she pleasured the king. Beyond was a shallow bathing pool; the tinkling melody of water pouring from the fountains was masked by the rhythmic sounds of sex.
She concentrated instead on the king’s body signals—the rapidness of his breathing, the impatient upward drives of his hips, and the glazed look in his blue eyes. Using the powerful muscles of her thighs, Sapphire raised and lowered herself with practiced grace above him, conscious of her appearance because she knew the king liked to watch her. She was rewarded by the masculine satisfaction that curved his lips.
Soon he was gripping the pillows around him, hoarse cries torn from his throat as she serviced him. The all-powerful King of Sari groaned, sweat breaking out over his handsome features.
Sapphire arched her back as the king’s orgasm pulsed within her. Her job done to his satisfaction, she closed her eyes and reached her own climax. Her moan of release echoed through her bedchamber along with the king’s.
Replete, she sank into the king’s embrace with a sigh. He was a tall man with a sinewy strength she admired. The monarch was golden from the top of his blond head down to his manicured toes, and he was kind to her.
Once she’d dreamed of falling in love with her king, but in the end it was impossible. The King of Sari placed his pleasure paramount to hers. He knew nothing about her and made no effort to learn. After five years, she was still served food she didn’t enjoy. They listened to music he liked and the clothes provided for her were made in colors and materials he chose with no care for her preferences.
Once a concubine accepted a labor contract, she was bound to her chosen protector until he decided to release her. Sapphire wondered if the king would ever allow her to go. How long would she be asked to remain his concubine? His interest showed no signs of waning.
Sapphire wanted to find someone who cared for her as she truly was—inside and out. She wanted to make love to a man because she was giving herself to him with her heart, a gift of herself for the man she loved.
That would never happen if the king never released her.
Nuzzling against his neck, Sapphire gave a throaty laugh as the evidence of his renewing desire swelled inside her. Her eyes met his.
“Give me a moment, my king.” Her voice dropped to a throaty purr. “And I will pleasure you again.”
He gripped her face between his hands, his gaze fierce. “No matter what happens in the future, you must promise me that you’ll always remember you are my karisette. You have been from the moment I first saw you.”
The intensity of his tone startled her, as did his words. Karisette—“true love.”
“My king—”
“Promise me!”
She caressed his chest soothingly, turning her voice into a gentle croon. “Of course. I promise.”
He rolled her beneath him and took her again.
Restless and edgy, Brenna paced the length of the throne room. Whenever she felt powerless, she found this location—the seat of her power—to be soothing. It had been dark when she first came here. Now the massive chamber brightened as the sun rose, spilling light through the domed skylights above.
“Your Majesty.”
She turned her head and saw the prostrated messenger by the door. “Rise.”
He stood swiftly, straightening the blue and gold vest that proclaimed his position as a member of the royal staff. “I have a message for the king.”
“You may tell me,” she said, needing the distraction. “His Majesty is occupied.”
“A family near the border reported a disturbance they likened to blaster fire. A unit was dispatched to investigate and in the ensuing fight a mercenary was captured.” He paused. “It is Tarin Gordmere.”
Brenna’s brows rose. Gordmere was a well-known irritant to Gunther. He had no qualms about raiding certain sectors, often costing the royal coffers a great deal of income. If she were to present the mercenary to the king, it would put him in a good mood, which could only be conducive to softening his feelings toward her, if only a little. “Where is he now?”
“At the southern detention facility.”
“Excellent.” She gifted the messenger with a bright smile. “I will see that the king hears of this. You are dismissed.”
“There is more, Your Majesty.”
“What is it?” Her tone was curt, an audible sign of her thinning patience.
“Gordmere’s lieutenant approached the jail soon after the incarceration and offered an exchange.”
“He has nothing we want,” she scoffed.
“He claims he has Crown Prince Wulfric of D’Ashier.”
She stopped midstep. “Impossible.”
“The captain assures you that he would not bring this information to the palace without proof. The mercenary carried a signet ring bearing the royal shield of D’Ashier.”
Stunned, Brenna attempted to reason out the implications of this new development.
Gordmere. Prince Wulfric.
How delicious, if the tale was true. Certainly if she presented Gunther with the prince, he would admire her daring. She would prove to him that she was fit to be his queen and worthy of Sari. He would see what he’d been blind to all these years—that she was perfect for him.
“Guardian,” she called out.
“Yes, Your Majesty?” responded the masculine voice of the palace computer.
“Inform my guards to prepare for my departure.” She strode past the servant, needing to change and depart before her husband was made aware of the day’s events. “I leave within the half hour.”
Sari, the Borderlands
Adjusting the train of her velvet robes, Brenna disembarked from the antigrav-craft. As she took in her surroundings, her nose wrinkled. The vast cave they’d been directed to made her skin crawl, and the smell of uncleansed air was offensive.
“Where is he?” She was eager to finish the distasteful business ahead.
The large sandy-haired man who waited at the end of the ramp bowed at the waist, a grave insult since he should have dropped to his knees and prostrated himself. “This way, Your Majesty.”
Brenna could order her guards to force Tor Smithson down and would have if the mercenary didn’t have something she wanted. But he did, so she followed, surrounded by her guardsmen. They traversed a long hallway, then turned a corner.
The sight that met her made her gag.
Covering her mouth, it took a few moments to find breath enough to speak. “If he’s dead,” she choked out, “you get nothing!”
“He’s not dead.” Smithson shrugged. “I just had a little fun with him.”
A little fun.
Her stomach roiled violently. The man was mad. What she saw before her was near carnage. The stone walls around them were spattered with so much blood she couldn’t believe it belonged to one person.
Hiding her nausea beneath chilly hauteur, Brenna moved forward. The man they said was the Crown Prince of D’Ashier hung unconscious before her, his wrists shackled and chained to opposite walls. The entire weight of his body was supported by those metal bonds. His powerful arms and broad shoulders were stretched to the tearing point, his hands a dark purple from supporting his large frame.
Reaching him, she used both hands to lift his slumped head and gasped. Aside from her husband, she had never seen fea
tures so finely crafted. Each line and plane had been etched by a master hand to create perfection.
Sadly, his face was the only part of him not covered in blood, or cut or burned or whipped. The rest of him—a warrior’s well-honed body—was gravely, perhaps mortally injured.
She listened closely for sounds of life, and caught his breathing—shallow and erratic. The sounds of a man dying.
“Take him down.” She stepped out of the way.
Smithson growled. “Give me Gordmere first.”
“No.” Brenna raked his massive frame with a look of pure disgust. She’d never in her life met so vile a creature. “Once the prince is safely in my transport, I will release Gordmere.”
The exchange was completed within moments, a perfectly healthy Gordmere exchanged for a man who had only hours left to live. The antigrav-craft lifted off and navigated carefully out of the cavern.
“Send out a call for troops,” she ordered. “I want that place destroyed.”
The distance to the palace was quickly traversed, but the prince’s condition seemed to worsen considerably over the journey. Afraid to move him further, Brenna left him in the craft when they landed. She wanted to present a live captive, regardless of whether he died shortly after or not. Running against the clock, Brenna hurried from the transport bay in search of her husband. The fastest route was through the seraglio, so that was the path she chose.
Rounding a corner, she skidded to a halt at the sight of the king. She was about to speak when she realized he wasn’t alone. He was with her. Sapphire.
As Brenna registered the intimacy of his pose, her eyes widened. Gunther stood in the doorway of the concubine’s room with her cheek cupped in his hand. Bent over her possessively, his lips clung to the mätress’s with obvious affection. When he lifted his head, the torment on his handsome features was clearly visible.
He loved her.
Brenna collapsed against the cool plaster wall, shocked by comprehension. She could not win his heart, because it was no longer his to give. He was taken.
Something inside her cracked, then broke completely.
Sending the concubine away would not be enough. As long as Sapphire drew breath, she would be a threat.
Straightening and moving away before she was seen, Brenna reminded herself that she was queen and had unlimited resources. She could, and would, deal with this threat once and for all.
Everything she needed was right at her fingertips.
Sapphire entered the queen’s receiving chamber, admiring as always the beauty of natural light flooding the room from the domed skylights above. As the palace computer slid the door closed behind her, she prostrated herself just inside the threshold, her forehead touching the cool tile floor. “Your Majesty, I am here as you ordered.”
The queen’s regal voice echoed across the vaulted ceiling and down the long, narrow chamber. “You may rise, king’s mätress. Come and sit at my feet.”
Moving as she was bade, Sapphire walked the massive length of the throne room toward the beautiful Queen Brenna. Golden, like her husband, the queen was the day to Sapphire’s night. Tall and blessed with a willowy gracefulness, the queen stood a head higher than Sapphire and possessed none of her generous voluptuousness. However, it was not the blonde’s figure that had discouraged the king’s passion but her frigidity. As Sapphire approached the monarch, she swore she felt a radiating chill even through the queen’s warm velvet robes.
Once she reached the end of the room, Sapphire took a seat on the bottom step of the royal dais and waited.
“We both understand our respective positions well, mätress, so I will be brief. Sari needs an heir. I have discussed this with the king and he agrees.”
Sapphire took the news without a blink.
The queen watched her closely. “The thought of the king in my bed does not affect you adversely.”
It was a statement, not a question.
Inclining her head in acknowledgment, Sapphire said, “Of course not, my queen. The king is yours. I have never thought otherwise.”
Brenna leaned back in her throne with a grim smile. “I see you are not as taken with the king as he is with you.”
Sapphire said nothing, which in turn said everything. She had never professed to love the king. He was a good man, a handsome and kind man, but he was not her karisem. She could never love a man who saw her only as a possession and not as an individual with thoughts and feelings of her own.
“That is fortunate for you, mätress, considering what I have to say. The king does not feel he can share my bed if you remain in the palace.” Bitterness was evident in the regal voice.
Sapphire lowered her eyes to hide her pity, her heart going out to her queen.
“You are to be retired with the honor due you as the king’s karimai,” Her Majesty said. “As his most favored, you will be moved immediately to a home on the outskirts of the capital. You will be provided with fourteen mästares who will serve you until you die. Your every wish will be granted, mätress, for your exemplary service to the king.”
Sapphire sat for a moment in shock. Retired. More than freedom, more than she had ever allowed herself to hope for. She was being pensioned off, after only one contract.
Usually when a mätress was released, she was free to find another protector, her value now greatly enhanced for having shared the bed of the king. Her wages became ever more exorbitant, her worth increasing with every protector until she acquired the funds to support her indolent lifestyle. But such was not to be Sapphire’s fate. The king valued her and loved her so much he was willing to retire her.
Retirement. The word swirled in Sapphire’s brain with a heady delight. It was what she had worked for, the reason her parents had encouraged her to become a concubine. Not only was the position well respected, it was also one of the few careers where hard work guaranteed a luxurious existence for life. In addition to her pension, she was also being gifted with fourteen mästares—handsome, virile men who would dedicate their lives to serving her.
“I’m grateful, my queen.” Her words were heartfelt.
Brenna waved her hand in dismissal. “Go. Your belongings are being packed as we speak. The king has left the palace and will not be saying farewell. I’m certain you are clever enough to discern why.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Now she understood the king’s driving urgency of the night before and his passionate declaration. He’d known it would be their last time together.
Sapphire backed out of the room in a bow. The doors slid open with a hiss as she approached, then closed again when she departed.
Unbelievably, freedom was hers.
Brenna waited until the doors sealed shut behind the retreating mätress. The fact that the concubine could so easily disregard the king’s love solidified the queen’s already firm resolve.
“Guardian,” she called out to the empty chamber.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Has my gift been delivered to the new home of the mätress Sapphire?”
“Of course, my queen. With the utmost discretion.”
Her mouth curved in a feral smile. “Excellent.”
Chapter 1
Sapphire alighted from the royal antigrav-craft, her palms damp with anticipation. The home given to her by the King of Sari was, in fact, a small palace. Bright white with multicolored windows, it was set in the golden hills of sand like a sparkling jewel.
As five of her new mästares unloaded her belongings, she approached her front door. The hot breeze that coursed over her skin was a welcome and pleasant sensation. She’d spent the last five years inside the palace, her skin tanned by artificial means, her lungs filled with purified air. On excursions with the king, she had always entered the cooled antigrav-craft through equally cooled landing bays.
Taking her first deep breath of natural air in years, Sapphire smiled at the slightly gritty sensation left in her mouth. She enjoyed the heat of Sari and relished the fine sheen of sweat on her skin
that evaporated instantly in the dry desert environment.
Placing her palm on the recognition pad, she waited a split-second as the system acknowledged her prints. The door slid open and “Welcome, Mistress” rang out in the melodious feminine voice of the house computer.
Sapphire entered her new home and was immediately assaulted with chilled, cleansed air.
“Guardian.”
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Purify the air, but cool it only in the bedchambers.”
“As you wish.”
Absorbing her new surroundings with wide eyes, she found the balance of her mästares lining either side of her long entrance hallway. The resemblance the men bore to the king was noted with a smile. Tall, blond, and possessing sinewy lines of muscle, they were all remarkably handsome.
Sapphire walked through the gauntlet, then paused at the end with a frown. “There are only thirteen of you.”
The mästare nearest to her dropped to his knees. “Mistress, my name is Dalen.”
Resting her hand on his head, she slipped her fingers through his silky hair. “I’m pleased to meet you, Dalen.”
He stood, and smiled with boyish charm. “The other mästare is still in the healing chamber, Mistress.”
Her frown deepened. The healing chamber took only moments to heal slight injuries. “Still?”
“He was gravely injured when he arrived. He’s been in the chamber for half an hour now. While he should be healed shortly, he’ll need some rest before he can assume his duties. But the rest of us stand ready. We’ll more than make up for his absence.”
“I’ve no doubt you will all please me. But I’m concerned about the injured one. How was he so badly hurt? And why was he sent to me in such a state?”
“I’ll take you to him, Mistress. I have no answers to your questions. You’ll have to ask him when he emerges.”
Offering his arm, Dalen escorted her through her palace. Sapphire took in the size and beauty of her surroundings with astonished pleasure. There could be no greater testament of her worth to the king than this show of largesse.
