The Prince's Pet by Alexia Wiles Page A

chose it - although the fabrics were distinctly
Cimbrai.
    He'd grumbled at the lack of
choice, talking about getting a dress-maker in and buying more outfits. It made
me laugh. And then he had sent me off to dress myself. “Or I fear I'll get
distracted.” He'd said.
    He was back in his princely role
now, holding his head high as he confidently strode through the hallways. I
couldn't help remembering how he'd looked damp and steamy as he held me,
breathing hard between kisses. I could still taste him on my lips. How would I
make it through a dry royal dinner with those thoughts running through my mind?
    Issander threw the wide doors
open and strode into the room. It was a large room dominated by a massive
wooden dining table, set for five. The queen sat at one end, and near the head
of the table was the man I recognized as the captain I had momentarily mistaken
for the prince.
    I waited for my master to take
his seat, following behind him. As we moved through the room Indari looked up,
noticing me. She was unveiled tonight, and even more lovely than I'd last seen
her. I saw her pretty mouth drop open at the sight of me, her expression one of
perfect indignation. I forced myself to look away, going to stand against the
wall behind my master and concentrate on being unobtrusive.
    "Step-mother."
Issander gave the smallest of bows as he sat down opposite the captain. He
nodded at the man, who nodded to him in turn. They were all quiet, only the occasional
soft sound of a glass being set down interrupting the silence. I was conscious
of multiple pairs of eyes glancing at me, but concentrated on staring at the
floor.
    Another set of doors opened at
the back of the room, and a well-dressed man pushed in a large a wheeled chair.
the king was seated in the chair, looking even more frail than I'd expected. He
was thin with hollow eyes and pale sagging skin. His hair had gone completely
white – yet his eyes were alert and he sat fairly straight in his chair and
held his head high, even if he quavered a little.
    Everyone stood. I noticed Indari
took her time doing so, reluctantly rising. When the king was wheeled into
position, the queen was the first to sit, and everyone else followed.
    Kitchen servants – they lacked
the collars of slaves and were dressed in identical white uniforms –
immediately burst into activity. One passed me a jug of wine, and I held it in
both hands, falling into my role. When Issander's plate was filled and the
servants had filed out, I stepped forward and leaned past his right shoulder to
fill his glass.
    Indari made an audible sniff and
said something that amounted to: “If I'd known we were bringing our slaves I
would have brought Atshye.” I gave no indication I'd understood, modestly
retreating to my place.
    The king looked over as if
seeing me for the first time. “Ah,” He said, in a surprisingly strong voice. He
peered at me, squinting. “A beauty. And Thessian!” He chuckled, with some more
words I didn't understand.
    Then he shocked me by addressing
me in my own tongue. His accent was thick and some of his words slightly
incorrect, but I understood. “What's your name, girl?”
    I looked up at him. My hands
shook and I tried to steady them so the king wouldn't see the wine sloshing.
“Eveline, your Majesty.” I bowed, dipping as low as I could manage while still
holding the jug.
    “Come here and pour for me, if
you can manage both of us.” A smile lit his lined face, making him appear
younger. He would have been just as handsome as Issander in his younger days, I
thought.
    So I approached, keeping the
table at my right side as I'd been taught, and poured wine for the king, trying
desperately not to let the glass clink as I attempted to still my trembling
fingers. The old man looked up at me nodding and smiling, and I couldn't help a
quick smile back at him before I moved away.
    The captain concentrated
intensely on his meal. Issander watched me, cutting meat from his plate and
chewing