PROLOGUE

In The Flesh

(Fantasy / Futuristic Romance)

KensingtonPublishingCorp.

ISBN-13: 978-1420100907

* * * * *

An Infamous Beauty. A Daring Warrior. . .

For five years, Sapphire has been the King of Sari’s most treasured concubine. Independent at last, she refuses to put herself in anyone’s control again. But now another’s meddling has led her into the path of proud, arrogant Wulfric, Crown Prince of the rival kingdom of D’Ashier…a man who is dangerous to her in every way.

And A Seduction That Could Destroy Them Both

The daughter of Wulfric’s fiercest opponent, Sapphire is a prized warrior in her own right and highly skilled in the sensual arts—in short, Wulfric’s perfect match. A lasting union is unthinkable, but the bargain they strike—to spend one night together, and then part—proves impossible in the face of a desire powerful enough to bring two countries to the brink of war, and two hearts to the point of surrender…

* * * * *

PROLOGUE

D’Ashier, the Borderlands

“Is he dead, Your Highness?”

Closing the bio-scanner, Wulfric, Crown Prince of D’Ashier, rose from his low crouch and stared down at the corpse at his feet. Desert sand swirled around the body, eager to bury it. “Unfortunately, yes.”

He lifted his gaze and scanned the berms around them. “At the next check-in, make the report. No need to call this in early and risk the signal being detected.”

They were too close to Sari to chance discovery. The Sarian king was always on the lookout for any provocation to go to war, hence the border patrols that never ceased.

Once every two months Wulf accompanied a platoon of D’Ashier soldiers on their rounds. His presence wasn’t required, but for him it was a necessary task. A good ruler lived the trials experienced by his people. He saw the world through their eyes, from their level, not from so high above that he lost touch with their needs.

“Was he coming or going, Your Highness?”

He glanced at the young lieutenant next to him. “I can’t determine. It’s so hot today I can’t even tell how long he’s been dead.” The bio-suit Wulf wore protected him from both dehydration and the scorching sun, but he could see the heat waves shimmering above the sand.

After the recent Confrontations, the border had been closed abruptly, which left many families divided. The unfortunate result of this was the death of many citizens who tried to cross to their loved ones. Wulf attempted to reopen treaty negotiations with Sari on a regular basis, but the Sarian king always refused. Despite all the years that had passed, Sari still held a grudge.

Two centuries ago, D’Ashier had been a large, prosperous mining colony of Sari. After years of disagreements and injustices claimed on both sides, a bloody revolution had freed the small territory from its homeland, creating a permanent animosity between the two countries. The people of D’Ashier had crowned the popular and well-loved governor as monarch. Over the years, Wulf’s ancestors had expanded and strengthened the fledgling nation until it rivaled all others.

But the royal family of Sari still looked disdainfully upon D’Ashier such as a frustrated parent would an upstart child. Sari remained steadfast in its decision to ignore D’Ashier’s power and sovereignty. The talgorite mines of D’Ashier were the largest producer of the coveted power source in the known universe, well worth every battle and war waged in an effort to reclaim them.

“Something is off.” Wulf lifted his field-sight lenses to scan the sky.

He and the lieutenant stood on a mound several kilometers away from the border. His skipsbåt hovered nearby, waiting. D’Ashier guardsmen kept watch all around them. There were a dozen of them altogether, the requisite number of every patrol. From this vantage, he could see a good distance and should feel relatively secure, yet the hair at his nape stood on end. He’d learned long ago to trust his instincts.

Surveying the situation anew, he said, “There’s something posed and artificial about this, and there are too many unanswered questions. This man couldn’t have traveled so far without transportation. Where is his skip? Where are his provisions? Why hasn’t the sand buried him?”

As his headset crackled to life, he lowered the lenses.

“There is no sign of anything of note, Your Highness. We’ve searched the surrounding two kilometers.”

“Any more unusual readings, Captain?”

“Nothing.”

He shot a glance at the young lieutenant who stood expectantly beside him. Wulf’s patrols were always officer heavy, usually with many newly commissioned. The general had made that request years ago in an effort to demonstrate to his subordinates how the weight of command should be carried. It was a mantle Wulf had worn without strain since birth. “Let’s go.”

They moved swiftly to their abandoned skips, using the economic movements that were innate to inhabitants of a desert planet. Just as they prepared to mount the slender bikes, the ground rumbled ominously. The source was easily recognized, and Wulf cursed his failure to foresee the trap. Loosening the restraint of the glaive-hilt holster attached to his thigh, he yelled out a warning. Leaping onto his skip, he engaged the power and tugged hard on the controls, flying away just before the small enemy borer emerged from the sand.

“I can’t get a distress call out!” cried the panicked lieutenant. The rest of the patrol assembled into the V-shaped group formation, and sped farther into D’Ashier territory.

“They’re blocking it.” Wulf’s tone was grim. “Damn it, they must have been boring their way through the sand for days.”

“Why didn’t they show up on the scanners? We were directly over them.”

“The power was off. Without that signature, they were effectively invisible.”

Wulf was highly conscious of the powerful hum of the borer behind them. The warning blip that had sparked their investigation must have been made as the transport entered D’Ashier from Sari, before the engines had been turned off. The corpse was merely the lure that ensured the anomaly wasn’t dismissed as a malfunction.

“How the hell could they stay under without environmental controls?”

“With desperation,” the captain muttered, flying upward as a warning shot from the borer spewed sand into a cloud before him. “That’snot a Sarianborer. They’remercenaries.”

Studying the upcoming landscape through his navigational scanner, Wulf said, “We can’t outrun them. Break up over the rise. Circle the rock outcropping.”

Clearing the embankment, the patrol separated into two lines. Another shot from the borer hit its mark, sending a skip spinning briefly before it exploded and killed the soldier who rode it. The rest of the men bent lower as they sped toward the multitowered rock formation that rose as monoliths from the desert floor.

Wulf cursed when a well-aimed shot from the borer crumbled a tower of red rock. Blood-colored dust billowed as a horrifying cracking sound rent the air. Glancing down at his console, he saw transport-sized debris break loose, crashing down upon the other half of his patrol. From the loss of readout, he knew only a few survived.

Rounding the corner, he saw an opening that could give them a fighting chance.

“Dismount,” he ordered, weaving his skip between the monoliths. “Draw them out in the open.”

In the center of the rock outcropping was a circular patch of sand. They set down, alighted, and fanned out, forming an outward-facing circle. Drawing their glaives, they engaged the powerful blades and waited, the tension palpable.

Phaser fire shook the ground beneath them, but they were safe inside. The gaps and crevices between the various obtrusions were large enough for a skip to enter, but not the borer, which was much bigger. If the attackers wanted to kill them, they’d have to come in on foot and fight hand to hand.

The waiting was endless. Sweat coursed down Wulf’s temple. The rest of his skin stayed dry only by benefit of the dammr-suit, which regulated his body temperature.

“We just want the prince.” The words echoed around them. “Give him to us, and the rest of you can live.”

Wulf felt the anger that spread through his ranks.

“You’ll have to kill us first!” the captain challenged.

“I was hoping you would say that,” came the laughing reply, then blaster fire lit the air and was deflected by the quick movement of a glaive, the powerful laser blade more than a match for the inelegant handgun.

Almost before he could blink, Wulf found his men surrounded. As he thrust and parried with almost innate reflex, he knew there had to have been more than one borer. All these men could not have fit inside one of the small transports. He also knew there was no chance for victory, not when they were four to one.

The urge to surrender for the lives of his men was strong. Despite the risk his ransom would present to D’Ashier, Wulf was about to yield when his headset crackled.

“No, Your Highness.” The captain shot him a sidelong glance. “They will kill us regardless. Let us at least die with honor.”

And so he fought on, his chest tight with regret and frustrated anger. Every one of his soldiers gave their all, despite knowing the inevitability of the outcome. They kicked at those who got close enough, cut down those who stumbled in their path, and kept as near as possible to Wulf in a vain effort to spare him.

One by one they fell, the air thick with the smell of burnt flesh. Bodies, both soldiers and mercs, littered the sandy floor. But all too soon, he stood alone against the many.

In the end, Crown Prince Wulfric of D’Ashier went down with the knowledge that he could not have done any more than he had.

For him, that was enough.

* * * * *

Sari, the Royal Palace

Sapphire lounged in the small private atrium that was attached to her quarters and absently studied the design of the Sarian palace on her compu-pad. Birds called out from their hanging cages, singing in chorus with the splashing water in the fountain. Sunlight poured onto the large plant fronds that lined the walls and shielded her in shade, the scorching rays diffused by the low emissive skylights above.

The other mätresses, royal concubines like her, were gossiping in the seraglio, but she didn’t want to socialize today. In fact, over the last few years she’d found herself growing more dissatisfied with her life in the palace. She was an active woman with a variety of interests. The indolent life of a concubine, while highly respected and esteemed, was not suited to her temperament.

Despite this, Sapphire remained grateful that the King of Sari had chosen her from among the many women graduating from the Sensual Arts School in the capital city of Sari. Her graduation had come soon after the end of the D’Ashier Confrontations, a drawn-out war with a neighboring nation that had drained Sari’s resources. For a time, concubines became an unaffordable luxury, and many graduates had been forced to auction their contracts to the highest bidder. The king’s interest saved her from a similar fate, and created her high social status. All she’d had to relinquish was her name. She was now known as Sapphire, the royal stone of Sari. The appellation was an undeniable declaration of the king’s possession, and the driving force of her fame.

But she possessed her king more surely than he would ever possess her. His love for her was obsessive, his desire insatiable. He demanded her presence at all public events. Since their first night together, he had never taken another woman to his bed. Noteventhequeen.

This last result pained Sapphire greatly. It was obvious the Queen of Sari loved her husband. Sapphire had no personal experience with that powerful emotion, but she imagined the pain would be devastating—loving a man who in turn loved another. She hated to be the cause of such misery.

Over the last few years she had taken every opportunity to speak highly of her queen. She pointed out Her Majesty’s beauty, poise, and ease with command, but her praise fell on deaf ears. Her best efforts to help the other woman all met with failure.

Setting aside the compu-pad with a sigh, Sapphire rose to her feet and began to stroll along the tiled path.

“I hate to see you so bored,” came a lilting voice from the doorway.

Sapphire turned her head and her gaze met eyes of soft, pale green. Dressed in flowing pink robes, the blonde woman who’d spoken was a welcome sight. “Mom!”

“Hi, sweetheart.” Sasha Erikson opened her arms and Sapphire rushed into them, curling with pleasure into the maternal embrace. “I’ve missed you. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“A great deal of nothing, sad to say.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Her mother kissed her forehead. “More and more, I think I did you a disservice by not seeing where your true calling lay.”

Sasha had loved the life of a concubine and urged Sapphire into pursuing the career. Retired now and a tenured professor at the Sensual Arts School, Sasha was widely appreciated for her beauty and the adoration of her idolized husband. Sapphire’s success was largely attributed to the tutelage of her mother and she was grateful for that advantage. However, she’d realized too late that she was far more suited to her father’s military occupation than her mother’s sensual one.

“You know better than that.” Sapphire’s tone was softly chastising. Linking arms, she pulled her mother into the atrium. “I wouldn’t have pursued this career if I hadn’t wanted it. My expectations were off. That is no one’s fault but my own.”

“What did you expect?”

“Too much, apparently. I can tell you what I didn’t expect. I never expected the Confrontations or the sale of my contract to the king. I didn’t expect that the political marriage between our monarchs was in fact a love match for one of them. I never would have accepted His Majesty’s offer if I’d known.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was naïve.”

“You?Naïve?” Sasha squeezed her hand. “Sweetheart, you are one of the most pragmatic women I know.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I’d hoped for then. I wanted to find what you and father have. You have a great love story—the handsome, heroic general who falls in love with and marries his beautiful concubine. You said when you first saw him it was as if your blood caught fire. That’s so romantic, Mom.” She sighed dramatically and her mother laughed. “See? You think I’m silly. Girlish fantasies and daydreams.”

Her mother shook her head. “The majority of people don’t find love in the course of their employment. But I don’t think you’re silly.”

Sapphire arched a dubious brow.

“Oh, okay,” Sasha conceded. “Maybe a little silly.”

Grinning, Sapphire rang for a mästare to bring wine. Then she sat on the tiled lip of the fountain and settled in to experience much-needed excitement through the words of her mother.

* * * * *

In just a few moments, her husband would leave the exotic haven of their private rooms for the bed of his concubine.

Desperate to reach him before he left, Brenna, Queen of Sari, spoke bluntly. “You have to make love to me, Gunther, if you want me to conceive. I cannot do it alone.”

As the king began to pace in front of her, his frustration was clear. He was such a beautiful man, tall with golden hair and skin. In all of her life, she had never met a man who could equal him. With every breath she took, she loved him more than the last.

“The precedence is clear and unbreakable. I cannot be artificially inseminated,” she reminded ruthlessly. “All royal heirs must be conceived naturally.”

Running a hand through his hair, Gunther shot her a scathing glance. He strode past where she sat on the velvet-draped divan. “I know the rules!”

His reluctance to bed her cut deep. As she thought of his concubine, her nails dug into her palms. Sapphire was the karimai—most prized of all the mätresses.

The concubine’s quarters remained full with women of every description, but for five years now the other mätresses had been sexually pleasured by the mästares who protected and served them. Only Sapphire shared the bed of the king—a place that should be Brenna’s, and would be again. Soon.

“Send her away,” Brenna suggested, as she had a hundred times. It always sparked an argument, but she refused to stop trying. She would get rid of her rival. Somehow. “Sari must have an heir.”

He growled and paced faster. “I weary of your harping.”

“We have been married for years! The people grow restless. They begin to doubt our fertility.”

“You lie. No one would dare speak of such things.”

She leaped to her feet. “They think it. They whisper it.”

Coming to a halt, Gunther’s gaze darted around as if he was trapped. No doubt he felt as if he was.

“Gunther?”

“Do it, then.”

Her breath caught.

“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.

She 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 TarinGordmere.”

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 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. “Thisway, YourMajesty.”

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 features 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 with right at her fingertips.

* * * * *

Sapphire entered the queen’s receiving chamber, admiring as always the beauty of natural light flooding the room from the doomed 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 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.

Her heart going out to her queen, Sapphire lowered her eyes to hide her pity.

“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.”

Date: 2015-01-11; view: 886