The Gentle Master

New guards stood at their post by the antechamber doors. Ariana shuddered to think of what the former guards' fate might have been for having let her escape the morning of the queen's murder.

She wondered with mounting fright if her passageways had been discovered. This was a terrible oversight on her part, she thought frantically. What if they had been, and she and Lara were trapped in the palace with no way out? The spell that disguised her would eventually wear off, revealing her true identity. She had not brought more. If the guards found a vial on her, they would suspect poison meant for the king and slit her throat where she stood.

Once back to her original appearance, she would have to face her punishment, a slow, tortuous death carried out in the center of the palace square for all to witness.

A valet emerged from the inner chamber carrying an armload of wet towels. He stopped and eyed her as the guard explained who she was.

"The king has just finished bathing after his morning athletics," the small, effeminate man said. He sounded almost possessive. "I will have to ask him if he wishes for company so early in the day." He disappeared back into the chamber and re-emerged moments later.

"She may go in," he told the guard, narrowing his eyes at Ariana.

The guards opened the heavy carved doors, and Ariana was led into the shadowy bedchamber she knew so intimately. The impact of seeing it again touched off a flood of memories, not the least of which was that of finding her beautiful mistress dead.

"Wait here," the valet instructed before he left.

In moments, King Dorian emerged from the bath chamber, naked except for a towel swathed around his narrow hips.

Ariana recognized him immediately. She had known him since he was a boy.

Now, in his twenty-third year, Dorian was the male image of his mother, possessing the same supple golden body as Maya, only with a man's musculature and a light dusting of ebony hair on his chest.

He looked at Ariana from the same velvety dark eyes and cat-like face and smiled the same sleek yet warm smile. Only his hair was different. Though dark, like Maya's had been, Dorian's was shorn almost to the scalp in the fashion of young Pierran athletes.

Ariana had to fight not to let her breath catch in her shock. This was the closest she had ever been to Dorian and had not expected the queen's presence to be so strong in him.

She and the guard who held her tether both dropped to the marble floor and made their obeisance to the young king as he strode toward them.

When they rose, Dorian dismissed the guard and stood, studying his new slave with his mother's appreciative gaze. "Prince Hatari has been most generous," Dorian said. "I must be certain to thank him."

Ariana bowed. "That won't be necessary, your Majesty," she said. "Your enjoyment will be all the gratitude he would want."

Dorian smiled and touched her cheek with his fingertips. "You know the prince's mind well," he observed. "Perhaps he has tasted you himself."

She smiled seductively, as she had been forced to practice many years. "The prince would want to guarantee your satisfaction, my lord," she answered in a silky tone.

Her answer made the young king's breath quicken. He picked up a lock of her hair, testing its texture between his fingertips.

"Soft," he said. "Exquisitely soft. Do you have a name, dark mistress of beauty?" he asked in a hushed tone. He continued to finger her hair.

"I am called Ilani, your Majesty."

"Ilani," he repeated. "Your name fits you well." He released her hair and picked up the rope that bound her. "Come," he said, tugging gently on her tether. "It's time to unwrap my gift."

Ariana followed Dorian obediently to the large bed. The pillows and coverings had been changed to darker, more masculine shades. She felt a bit of relief. The changes made it a bit easier to block out the memory of the last time she had been in this bed.

Dorian pulled off his towel and climbed onto the bed, settling himself comfortably against the pillows. He lay back, staring up at her. Ariana had to admit he was beautiful, a mutual feeling based on the erection he sported. Had the circumstances been different, she might have been glad to serve him.

"This was my mother's chamber," he told her. "I hope that doesn't seem morbid to you. But her spirit is strong in here and I take comfort from it."

She shook her head, struggling not to stare incredulously at him as she took her place beside him.

"On the contrary, my lord," she said, "I find it touching that you feel that way. The queen must have been a wonderful woman."

"She was," Dorian said as he snuggled up against her, seeking her breasts in the silk folds of her gown. He nuzzled them and then rested his head against her, like a boy seeking comfort. "I wish you would touch me," he said.

"I cannot, my lord. I am bound."

Dorian lifted his head, looking down at her wrists.

"This won't do," he said, lifting them and untying the knot. "Perhaps another time it would add spice to our play, but not now." He pulled the rope off her wrists and cast it aside. "I want to feel your touch," he whispered, taking her hand and placing it on his chest. "I want a tender caress."

His chest rose with a heavy breath under Ariana's hand. "It's the one thing in the entire world only a woman can give." His eyes closed as Ariana obliged him, stroking his chest and stomach with whispery, sensuous strokes. "I would not be deprived of such a gift."

"Whatever you wish, your Majesty," she replied softly. "I find you easy to touch."

She watched her hands of burnished gold roam over Dorian's body, eliciting murmurs of satisfaction from him as her fingertips grazed his smooth skin. How like his mother he was, she thought, he wants to be stroked and pampered, reassured of his desirability. Just like she did. It was their most human attribute.

As she touched him, his substance radiated from within him into her hands, and she understood. Dorian was not at all the conniving ungrateful son who had plotted to kill his own mother and blame her slave. She knew he was innocent, as she had known Karan was innocent of his crime. The palace was a hotbed of conjuring and deceit where those in the highest ranks were reduced to mere pawns. The sooner she found Lara and escaped with her, the better.

Dorian's breathing grew heavier and his golden shaft had risen and hardened to fullness. He raised himself on the pillows and cupped her breasts under her silks.

"Ahh," he murmured, closing his eyes. He brushed his fingertips over the dark peaks, a smile playing about his lips. "Undress," he told her in a husky voice.

Ariana did as she was told, lifting her gown over her head and letting it fall over the side. Dorian lowered his face to her bare breasts, nuzzling and suckling them with abandon while he held her, his hands with their long supple fingers splayed on her back.

Ariana captured the young man's head lightly in her arms and closed her eyes. The sensation of his warm tongue on her aureoles and nipples was pleasurable. Erotic pleasure had always comforted her when she was afraid, and today, her fear was perhaps the greatest it had been since she had first been captured as a little girl.

She moaned, losing herself in the gratification Dorian offered her.

Dorian reached up and took one of her hands, bringing it to his cock, bidding her to stroke it. She obeyed, sliding her hand gently up and down the hard length, smoothing her palm over the swollen head.

From long practice of her art, Ariana knew when the moment was right to progress, and when Dorian groaned, gently clenching his teeth on her nipple, Ariana withdrew her hand to push gently on his shoulder.

"Lie back, my lord," she bid him softly.

Dorian fell back against the pillows, watching her with hunger in his dark dusky eyes.

Wetting her fingers against her tongue, she smiled down at him, sensuously flickering her tongue against her fingertips before reaching down and smoothing the moisture onto Dorian's erection. She then straddled him, guiding the head of his erection into her, leaning back so he could see the dark wetness of her slit.

The sight of her open sex above him caused him to moan and he began to thrust upward, hungry to bury himself more deeply within her.

But Ariana smiled mischievously, raising her body higher, skating her fingertips over his balls and inner thighs, torturing him with anticipation. She played her role completely: the mistress who would control his satiation.

Dorian's chest was heaving and he thrashed his head side to side on the pillows.

"Please, Mistress Ilani," he begged, "Don't make me wait any longer!"

She hovered a few more seconds before sliding down, taking his whole hot length into her sheath. At the base, she straddled him, fully impaled and began grinding against him, back and forth, around and around, rising and lowering. She tightened her muscles around him, causing him to groan, pulling in hard strokes as if to milk him of his seed.

Had the man under her been Karan, Ariana would have felt inside the complete abandon she showed the king. She imagined Karan between her legs, pretending it was he grinding his shaft against her sweet spot. Karan was her warrior, her true master whom she wished to pleasure and give herself to for the rest of her days.

When Dorian reached up to knead and rub her nipples as she rode him, her entire body tingled. The young king was so like Maya in his deep capacity for erotic pleasure and she sought to drown him in it, her only regret, that her motivations were deceptive.

She closed her eyes and saw Karan in her mind, remembering their lovemaking the night before. He had spent a long time with his face between her thighs, licking and suckling the sweet nubbin of flesh at the center until she was nearly spent from ecstasy. Only then had he mounted her, plunging his hardness deep within her womb. She loved how wide she had to spread her legs to fit his warrior's body between them. And when she thought she had nothing left, he'd brought her to climax again...

Ariana rode Dorian harder and faster, leaning over to let him capture her nipples between his lips each time she rocked forward. His hands were on her hips, squeezing and stroking them as she rode him.

"Come, mistress," he breathed, "I want to hear you cry out in your pleasure!"

"Yes, my lord!" Ariana ground her clitoris furiously against his groin. The pleasure had already mounted to a pitch and the spasms rippled through her, causing her to make the sounds of ecstasy that Dorian had wished her to.

She did not stop riding him until she felt his pulsing inside her, the rhythmic release of his seed. When it had passed, she climbed off and snuggled next to him, entwining her body with his as his mother had loved to do after her climax.

Dorian rested his cheek on Ariana's breast, sighing contentedly.

"I understand now," he murmured against her hair.

"What is that, my lord?" She caressed his back as they spoke.

"I understand why my mother was so enamored of her slave." He raised himself on one elbow and looked down at her. "I understand why she wanted Ariana in her bed every night."

A strange jolt shot through her body at the mention of her name. She gazed up into his eyes which shown down on her. He seemed in this moment like a boy, though his body was a young man's. She felt a pang of sympathy. He was a boy who'd been thrust into a dangerous world he knew nothing about.

"There is something about you, Ilani," he went on. "Something safe and loving. Perhaps it's the same thing Ariana had. I feel as if I've known you a long time."

Her heart surged painfully with sudden fear. "That's not possible, my lord," she said. "Though it's kind of you to say. I've lived all my life in Sinay. Until now."

Dorian leaned in to her. "This is your home now, Ilani," he said. "You may come and go from my chamber as you please." He nipped her ear lobe playfully. "I will inform the palace guards," he said in a near whisper. "But you must be discreet, for they are suspicious of personal slaves at the moment."

She looked at him all innocence. "Why is that, your Majesty?"

"Because of Ariana," he answered. "They believe it was she who poisoned my mother. She disappeared the morning of the queen's death. The army is searching the entire kingdom, but have yet to find her."

She nodded, struggling to conceal the tempestuous churning of both fear and hope within her.

"I see," she said. "I will be careful, my lord. And thank you. You are a kind and gracious king. I wish you long life."

Dorian bent his head to hers and kissed her. "I wish you to stay with me tonight," he said.

Ariana looked down. She did not like deceiving Dorian, but she knew it was the only way of escaping with Lara. "Yes, your Majesty," she said. "I am yours."

He smiled and rested his head once again on her breast. "Don't let me fall asleep," he murmured. "I'm expected in council very soon."

"Yes, my lord. I'm at your service."

Dorian left a little while later, telling his guards that his new slave was free to roam about as she pleased.

Ariana could hear him speaking to them as she pulled on her gown and wandered about the shadowy chamber, acting as if she were exploring it for the first time.

She approached the tapestry that hid the entrance to the secret passage, touching the weaving with delicate fingertips. After a quick look over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being watched, she lifted the tapestry away from the wall and peered underneath. "By Galen's grace!" she breathed when she saw that the spot was undisturbed. How ingenious the original builders had been the way they concealed the opening stone so perfectly!

Heaving a sigh of relief, she went to the doors of the chamber and knocked so that the guards would open them. When they did, she passed through and left the antechamber on her way to the haram to search for Lara.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ariana walked briskly through the palace halls to the women's side of the haram quarters. She passed by the guards into the main room, steeling herself before entering, as she had always done.

The scene was the same. Women of all different skin and hair tones lounged about on silken cushions and brocaded couches in various stages of undress. Some were whispering together in small groups while others plucked pieces of fruit or sugar candy from bowls, popping them into their mouths disinterestedly. All of them looked bored.

When she entered, most of them turned and looked at her, some with mild interest, others with jealous hostility. There were many more haram slaves than there were courtiers and royals to service. The addition of yet another slave only worsened the situation.

Ariana ignored them, feeling a bit safer under the protection of her disguise. She peered around the room at the women's faces, most of them familiar, in search of Lara whom Karan had described to her in great detail. She did not see anyone who matched Lara's description, and her stomach churned with alarm. Lara's absence from the main room meant she was either off servicing a minister, or in one of these rooms, being claimed by an older slave.

Ariana headed swiftly for the sleeping rooms in the corridor, which branched off the main room. She made her way briskly down the huge corridor, stopping a moment to listen at the beaded covering to the door of each cubicle. The sleeping rooms were quite small, with space enough only for a cushioned bed and a small chest for the slaves' silk gowns.

When she had nearly reached the end of the hall, she heard a woman's faint cries carrying in the air.

"Please, no!" the girl was pleading. "Leave me alone!"

Ariana lunged forward, her blood prickling through her veins, until she found the cubicle the cries were coming from. In one motion, she swept aside the beads and stepped into the small room.

Lara was there, on the bed, being held down by a slave Ariana knew as Mardya. Mardya straddled Lara, pinning the girl's wrists against the bed. She had pulled Lara's silks down, exposing her breasts, and her head of dark hair was bent over her, hiding her face as she hungrily devoured the girl's nipples with her teeth and tongue.

"Get off her now, Mardya!" Ariana bared her teeth, her hands balled into fists. She was ready to rip the other woman off of Lara if necessary.

Mardya looked up at her, her lips moist with saliva. Her dark eyes flashed angrily. "Who are you?" How do you know my name?" She kept her iron grip on Lara who thrashed and flailed underneath her captor.

Ariana froze momentarily when she realized her mistake. She had to deflect Mardya's suspicion as quickly as possible. "I was warned about you as soon as I arrived here," she said. "I see the things I was told are true! You are beastly!"

Mardya narrowed her eyes, her lips curled in a snarl. "Get out of here! This girl is mine!"

"The girl is going to belong to the king," Ariana corrected her. "Perhaps you would like to argue the matter with him yourself."

Mardya scowled at her opponent, but she released Lara's arms and climbed off of her. She stalked past Ariana, bumping into her viciously as she threw the beads aside and disappeared.

Ariana did not waste a moment seeing to Lara who had curled up in a fetal position on the bed, sobbing. She knelt by the crying girl, placing a gentle hand on her back.

At her touch, Lara cringed. Please, don't hurt me!"

"I won't hurt you, Lara, I promise," she said soothingly. She smoothed the girl's silvery blond hair hair off her face.

Lara raised her tearstained face and looked at her. "How do you know me?" she choked out.

Ariana continued to stroke the girl's hair. Lara had her father's hair and eye color and her mother's Pierran golden skin. Even in her distressed, rumpled state, Karan's daughter was breathtakingly pretty.

"I'm...a ...friend of your father's," she answered, searching for the right words. "I'm here to bring you back to him."

At this, Lara's eyes opened wide and her tears stopped. She sat up suddenly.

"Daddy?" she whispered. "He's...alive?"

Ariana smiled gently. "Yes, Lara. Alive and well, by Galen's grace."

A shadow of doubt crept over Lara's face. "Are you really here to save me?"

"I swear on my own life what I tell you is true." She rose and sat next to Lara on the bed. "Did she hurt you?"

Lara pulled her silks back over her breasts. She shook her head and sniffled. "No. But if you hadn't come..." her voice trailed off and she sat quietly, staring at her hands. Her tears began again.

Ariana reached out and took Lara into her arms, holding her as she sobbed.

"I'm sorry, sweetling," she said gently. Her heart ached for Lara, knowing how she'd suffered, and her urgency to get her out of the palace and back to her father rose to a pitch inside her.

Furiously, she raked her mind for the safest yet quickest plan for escape. The safest escape hatch was the one that led from Dorian's chamber. No one would see them leave from there. They must wait until after dark or risk being seen in their brightly colored silks. Their only chance was to hide for the rest of the day in the king's bedchamber.

Ariana sighed with a pang of guilt for the young man she had beguiled so swiftly and so effectively. In her heart, she prayed to Galen to bless Dorian with safety and well-being and to reward him for the service he had unknowingly done her and Karan.

She put her hands on Lara's shoulders and bid her to look up. "Listen, Lara," she said in a gentle yet brisk tone, "You must address me as Ilani until we are gone from here. I am assigned to bring you to the king as a gift. Do you understand?"

Lara nodded as the tears coursed down her cheeks. She sniffled and wiped her face with the heel of her hand.