Finally, the meeting ended, and the entertainment started. Cooks served foods and
drinks. So much to eat. So much to drink.
As they all ate, some slaves got on top of the table, dancing and swinging their
beaded waists. At the other side of the courtroom, a master was roughly fucking his
slave against the wall. Her eyes were closed in pleasure and hot, breathy moans filled
the air.
As the entertainment heated further, Danika realised every slave was sexually
pleasing their masters. The atmosphere sizzled with eroticism and sex. Some were
kissing. Some took their master’s organ into their mouths and were sucking them.
Some only caressed their master’s cocks.
King Lucien had a small writing table brought for him, which was positioned
beside him, and he twisted his body a little to the side to reach the peace treaty note he
was signing. Danika saw how busy he was-obviously not the least affected or
interested in the atmosphere. It relieved her.
The relief was short-lived when she saw the way King Pesih was staring at her
with lustful eyes. Two of his slaves were sucking him, but his interest was in her. He
looked ready to give her an order to come and pleasure him, too.
Panic replaced relief. That day in the king’s chambers, Chad explained to her that
anything could happen in court. Kings could issue any order at all in court. That she
had survived the introduction ordered by the kings didn’t mean that she had escaped
other kinds of orders and compulsion from them.
She sneaked another peek at him, and his calculating eyes were still on her. She
needed to keep occupied like the others so that the hateful king who almost killed
Sally wouldn’t order her to do something to him. Or do something to her.
She didn’t give herself time to think about it-to think about how he didn’t like to
be touched. To think about how this would be the first time she’d done something like
this. To think about how he never wanted her to see any part of his body.
Danika straightened and crawled in between the king’s legs. When she put her
hands on him and pushed aside his kingly garment, he stiffened at the contact. And
when she opened the fly of his pants, his hand paused on the scroll.
He stared down at her.
Vetta glared at the maid who was pulling the stocking up her leg. “Is that how a
stocking is supposed to be!?” she shouted angrily.
Uyah’s eyes widened in fear. “I-I’m so sorry, Mistress!” She pulled the stockings
off and started afresh.
“Useless idiot. You can’t do anything right,” Vetta snapped angrily at her.
Uyah’s hands were shaking as she finished working the stockings up the mistress’s
legs. She got up and walked behind the mistress to work on the fastening of her
buttons. Uyah did her best to hold the corset together as she tied the lacing. She was
almost done when the lacing unfastened, and the corset came loose again.
Vetta groaned angrily. She turned around and stuck Uyah across the face. “You
can’t do a thing right!”
The girl’s eyes watered as her cheek stung, and she blinked rapidly. “I’m really
sorry, m-Mistress.”
Uyah started working on the lacing again, while Vetta bloomed with anger. The
thoughts of Danika infuriated her. It kept her in an awful mood.
That dirty slave spent the night with the king. Not once, but twice! She’d tried to
punish her, and the king had intervened-just like he did that day in the dungeon.
The thoughts weren’t sitting well with Vetta. That bitch. She knew the king hated
Danika, but she couldn’t help thinking that the bitch was a few steps away from
finding favor with him. She’d tried to keep herself from thinking about the things that
must have gone on in the nights the kin
g spent in Danika’s arms. Vetta wondered if Danika slept on the bed or on the floor
like a slave should. Did he take her on the table? Or in the bed?
Why did the king allow her to spend the night in his bedroom at all?
“All done, m-Mistress,” Uyah whispered finally, her voice trembling.
“Get out of my room,” Vetta said angrily. The girl disgusted her because she was
not in her societal class. None of them were. And she wanted more prestige. She
might have been born a slave, but she swore that she’d never be a slave again.
She was now a mistress to a king, which was one of the highest ranks any woman
could wish for. But there was more. She wanted more. She could be more.
She could be queen.
She just had to gain more attention from the king. She had to get him completely
focused on her and not the bitch, Cone’s daughter. It was time she paid a visit to the
healer of fertility that lived outside town. She never wanted to have a child, but maybe
it was okay to have one-if the child would be a means to having the king to herself.
She stared at herself in the mirror and smiled. If she could carry the king’s child,
she could have Lucien completely. She knew this like she knew the back of her hand.
She would carry his child, she vowed.
King Lucien stared down at Danika. “What do you think you’re doing?” he
growled, scowling.
“I-I…” Danika snapped her mouth closed, her eyes wide with panic and
desperation. She looked behind her, her eyes landing on King Pesih, who was still
watching her.
King Lucien’s eyes followed hers and he discovered what was happening. She
stared up at him again, willing him to understand. He leaned back on his huge gold
throne and his eyes watched her. The scowl was still on his face.
Danika was sure that he’d punish her for this later; she was very sure of that. But it
didn’t matter. Whatever punishment he had for her was better that whatever was
going through King Pesih’s head. The same king that cut Sally up like a chicken,
thinking he was cutting her.
As she stared at him, she knew that this was her only chance for her to put her
hands on him like this. He would never let her do this behind closed doors. He never
let her see his body because he felt self-conscious about it. Did he think that she’d be
repulsed by him?