“M-m-mo…” she whispered, and he had no difficulty understanding what she wanted.
With a self-control he couldn’t help but regret, he shook his head and lifted her gently off his lap. She brushed against his erection in the process and her eyes widened even more. When she was standing, she stared in fascination at his lap. Her avid gaze was entirely too enticing and his cock jerked. A look of startled delight crossed her face and she reached out her hand to touch him. He caught her fingers in his and shook his head again.
“W-whyy?”
Because it was completely impossible. Because he had no intention of taking advantage of her innocence. Because of a thousand different reasons starting with his careless bastard of a father and ending with the fact that he was the emperor.
Before he could decide how to convey any of that to her, Tikaren appeared at the door to let him know that his next visitors had arrived. Both relieved and sorry for the interruption, he sent Ella back to her chair and her book, forced his body under control, and returned to business.
The next two audiences went smoothly enough. Ella remained in her chair and none of his visitors commented on her presence. She kept her head bent over her book, but he suspected she was paying more attention than she let on. When the morning meetings concluded and it was time to dress for his luncheon, she proved it.
The two of them had returned to his rooms so he could change into more formal garments. He was standing in his dressing room while his dresser arranged the ornate robes and watching through the open doors as Ella wandered around exploring his sitting room, curious as a linae cub. After her initial survey, she’d gone straight to the wall lined with books. Tugging one from the stack, she searched through it until she found a specific section, then brought it to him where he was waiting patiently while the elaborate lacings on his sleeves were fastened. Watching her had relieved the usual tedium, but he gave her a puzzled look as she held out the book.
“What is it, pet? That’s one of the histories of Kaisar.”
She nodded impatiently and pointed to the page she had open.
“The Treaty of Almanta?” he asked, unable to conceal his surprise. During his third meeting, the Lord High Ruler of Mostur had requested imperial assistance on Almanta. Karthajin was quite sure that it wasn’t permitted under the treaty but had intended to verify the terms before responding to the request. Something on his face must have disturbed her because she bit her lip, then drew the book back.
“How did you know, Ella?”
She gave him her best innocent look and shrugged her shoulders, looking adorably helpless and confused. He would have laughed at the sudden change in her demeanor if he hadn’t been so shocked by her action. Not only had she understood the meeting, she had realized that the request shouldn’t be granted and brought him the rather obscure record to prove it. How was that possible? Then he remembered what Gatarro had said.
“Your owners…they were historians?”
After a quick look at him from under her lashes, she nodded reluctantly.
“So I imagine many of those books you weren’t supposed to read were histories?”
Biting her lip, she nodded again. He shook his head, still stunned, and her shoulders drew up defensively. His dresser had finished with one sleeve and moved on to the other, so he used his free arm to pull her close.
“Don’t look so scared, pet. I already told you that you could read whatever you wanted. I’m just impressed that you remembered the treaty.”
Sighing gratefully, she nestled closer. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in this position, but since the dress and their kiss, something had changed, and he was uneasily aware of just how soft and feminine she felt against him. Despite that, he was surprisingly reluctant to let her go, but both sleeves were finished now, and he had duties waiting, so he set her gently away from him.
“I will be gone for several hours and you can’t come with me this time.”
Her face fell, then she tilted her head and gave him a considering look.
“Don’t even think about following me, pet,” he said sternly, suppressing the desire to laugh. “Saban will bring lunch for you here, and you will stay in my rooms until I return. Do you promise?”
She studied his face, then nodded.
“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back to meet with one of my… advisors this afternoon.” Nokatan was actually one of his former tutors, but an emperor did not have tutors, he had advisors. “You can join us and then we’ll have dinner together before I attend this evening’s banquet.” He always ate before attending one of the long formal events so he could concentrate on not only the official happenings but the subtle interactions and politics that always surrounded him.
Ella smiled up at him, blue eyes sparkling at his words, and despite the presence of his servant, despite knowing it was a bad idea, he bent down and gave her a quick kiss before he tore himself away.
Chapter Six
As soon as the door closed behind Karthajin, Ella had to fight down the impulse to run after him. She knew it was silly to feel abandoned, the room suddenly seemed cold and empty. Either Momi or Popi had always been home with her and she wasn’t used to be being alone. Even here at the palace, there were other slaves around all day. One of the reasons she snuck out at night was because visiting the stables made her feel less lonely. But she had promised to stay here, so she sighed and tried to think of a way to occupy her time.
The dresser was eying her curiously as she gathered up some unused ribbons and Ella gave her a shy smile. Karthajin had barely even seemed to notice the other woman but she was a very attractive female, her warm red skin was accented by long black hair arranged in an elaborate style that gave Ella a little pang of jealousy. She’d always wanted long hair, but Momi said it was too hard to manage her curls when they were long and kept it cut short.
The dresser smiled back but didn’t speak, merely taking the leftover materials through a door in the far wall. Curious, Ella followed her, then gasped in amazement. Behind the door was a vast room filled with hundreds, possibly even thousands, of outfits, all stored in clear cases hanging three tiers high along the walls or laid neatly on the banks of shelves and drawers that lined the center of the room. The dresser put away her collection, dipped her head at Ella, then slipped through a small door in the rear of the room.
Once again, Ella followed her, only to find that the door opened into the network of servant’s corridors which ran behind the walls of the palace. One of the huge bull-like alien guards turned to look at her and she jumped back inside, closing the door as quickly as possible. Her heart pounded and she had to fight the urge to go after Karthajin. After a brief battle with herself, she decided to explore the rest of his rooms instead.
All of the rooms were large, with high ceilings and rich fabrics, but the decor was restrained, the colors were soothing, and she felt unexpectedly comfortable. Many of the rooms opened out into private courtyards or the interior gardens, and that, too, made her feel at ease. The bedroom was spectacular, with an enormous bed perched on a raised dais, surrounded by silk curtains flowing from the ceiling far above her head. She touched the elaborate coverlet cautiously, the embroidery soft beneath her fingers, and felt a curious little shiver of expectation. Would he let her sleep here with him?
The first few months after she’d arrived on Kaisar, she’d been so scared and sad that Momi and Popi had let her sleep with them. She’d cried when they moved her to a bed in the corner of their room instead, even though it had been soft and comfortable and decorated in her favorite shade of blue. Several years later, she’d been woken in the night by strange noises coming from their bed. When she asked about them, Popi had told her firmly that she wasn’t old enough to understand. A few days later, they had moved her to her own little nook at the top of the stairs, and she’d cried again. But she grew to enjoy having her own space—and the ability to sneak downstairs and read.
As her reading skills improved and she
read more, she realized that Momi and Popi must have been having sex. She understood the basic mechanics involved, but most of the books were quite vague as to the details. Even so, picturing herself in that enormous bed with Karthajin had her nipples tightening again and the curious ache starting between her thighs. Then she shook her head. He was the emperor. She was only a human slave. There was no way he would ever be interested in her. But he kissed you, her mind whispered, and she gave a little shiver of pleasure.
Replaying that delightful memory, she continued to explore until Saban and another servant appeared in the doorway of the sitting room. To her relief, he didn’t lead her to either of the rather intimidating dining rooms she had discovered, but instead set up some cushions before a low table in front of one of the windows. The other servant knelt gracefully and placed a small flower arrangement on the table before he began covering the surface with small plates, each one a beautifully arranged composition of food and serving container. Her eyes widened with alarm at the number and variety. She looked up at Saban and shook her head frantically.
“Don’t be alarmed, miss. The emperor said to tell you that you may eat—or not eat—whatever you wish.” Her shoulders relaxed, but then he presented her with a large selection of small decorated canisters filled with fragrant leaves. “I understand you do not care for cafir. Which type of tea would you prefer?”
Ella stared at them in dismay. She was so rarely given a choice about anything and to be presented with so many at once… She bit her lip and looked up at Saban. He took pity on her distress.
“I believe you will enjoy the winter pearl, miss.”
When she nodded gratefully, he quickly and elegantly prepared the brew, handing her a small cup with a graceful bow. She gave it a cautious sip and sighed with pleasure—the soft floral notes with just a hint of underlying bitterness was perfect. Saban and his assistant withdrew and left her alone.
Ella settled down on the cushions. Her dress flared out around her and she stroked the blue silk with pleasure. Everything had changed so quickly. Yesterday she had been wearing an oversized black uniform, crouched in a corner of the slave dining hall, picking at an uninspiring bowl of stew. Food was always available to the slaves, but it was both plain and repetitive, nothing like the array in front of her now.
Picking a dish at random, she took a cautious bite of the small pink oval floating in a clear broth. It was delicious and she instinctively looked up to share her pleasure, but there was no one to share it with. The realization that she was completely alone hit her even harder this time. Without the comfort of Karthajin’s presence, the beautiful room suddenly just seemed too big and too empty. Tears sprang to her eyes, and for a moment she found herself longing for the noise and confusion of the slave quarters. She knew it was foolish and ungrateful, but if it hadn’t been for the memory of that tall, red figure, of those black eyes smiling at her, she would have run back to where she belonged.
After her owners had died, she had been hospitalized for a few days while the doctors had tried to determine why she couldn’t talk. She’d tried at first, but only garbled noises emerged and she’d stopped trying. After all, what did it matter? Momi and Popi were dead and she couldn’t remember anything else about that horrible night. Then she’d heard the whispers about being auctioned, and the next thing she knew, she was in a brief white gown in a small cell while strangers walked by, eying her in ways she didn’t entirely understand but definitely didn’t trust. Then Gatarro had come by and announced he was purchasing her for the Imperial Palace. He had a kind face and she went with him quite happily. After they arrived, he had shown her around the slave quarters, then escorted her to a small room and told her it was all hers. It was clean and white and… bare. There were no soft fluffy blankets, no stuffed animals, and worst of all, no books hidden under the pillow.
Gatarro had sighed, looking at her in the ugly oversized black uniform he’d provided. “That’s the best I can do to protect you, Ella. It’s a shame you’re such a pretty child. Try to stay with the others and if anyone bothers you, you come to me, all right?”
She’d nodded and he’d given her a kind smile and disappeared. That night had been terrible. She missed Momi and Popi fiercely and she felt terribly alone. The bed didn’t feel right, didn’t smell right, and after tossing restlessly for what seemed like hours, she’d finally slipped out of her room. People were still moving around in the slave quarters, but they were big and loud, strangers, and she avoided them. On one of the walls, she found a map of the palace and her eyes were instantly drawn to the stables. She’d seen pictures of the lovasts, the six-legged riding beasts restricted to the Royal family, and she wanted to see them in person.
Creeping through the servant’s corridors, mostly deserted at this time of night, had been easier than she expected, and gave her a pleasant little thrill. When she reached the stables, only a few small lights were on, but she could hear the lovasts moving around. Keeping to the shadows, she slipped into the building. A big white lovast had poked its head over the nearest stall. Huge white horns angled out from his brow, and his eyes glowed red, even in the dim light, but she didn’t feel threatened. They studied each other, and then he shook his head, his crest rippling, and stretched toward her. She stroked his nose, the fine white scales silky to the touch, and he made an odd purring growl, and nuzzled against her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The gruff voice interrupted the moment and the lovast flung up his head, then bared his teeth, not at her but the intruder.
“I’ll be damned.” A stranger approached, a short, heavily-built man with dark skin and heavy ridges spiraling up his brow. He was carrying a small lantern and he looked from her face to the lovast’s defensive posture. “Settle down, Patka. I’m not going to hurt the child. What’s your name, girl?”
She shook her head, rubbing her throat, and his eyes narrowed. “Can’t talk, eh? Not much for conversation myself. I’m Vradaz, the stable master.”
Patka butted his head against her, impatient with the conversation, and she giggled and rubbed his head again. When Vradaz approached, Patka eyed him suspiciously, but the stable master only gave Ella a small treat and showed her how to offer it to the lovast on her open palm. He lifted it from her hand with great delicacy, his fearsome teeth nowhere in sight. After Vradaz introduced her to the rest of the animals, he took her to his cozy rooms above the stable and fed her hot tea and cakes. He was right, he didn’t talk much, but he showed her how to mend the lovasts’ tack and she felt comfortable in the warm little room, the musty smell of animals and leather permeating the air.
After that, she snuck off almost every night, mostly to visit Vradaz and the stables, but occasionally to see some of the other intriguing destinations on the map. A few times, Gatarro caught her, but although he clucked his tongue, he never punished her. Instead, he’d tried to warn her about the dangers she faced alone. A warning she hadn’t really understood until her encounter with the two guards. The memory made her shiver and she had to take a few deep breaths to remind herself that she was safe here, in these beautiful rooms. If only she weren’t alone.
Chapter Seven
By the time Saban returned, she had only managed to pick at a few more dishes. He gave the full plates a concerned look, but true to his word, he didn’t press her on it. After he cleared the plates away, he returned with a pitcher containing an iced fruit drink and a plate of the small sweet rolls she had consumed so eagerly at breakfast. She gave him a grateful smile and he winked at her before bowing and departing.
The hours dragged on. Unable to face the increasingly oppressive feeling of isolation, she took a book and escaped to the garden where at least she had caged birds to keep her company. By the time she finished the book, she was feeling a little better, her head still lost in the dramatic tale of Princess Herchana at the time of the Second Kaisarian Revolution. Just as she was returning it to the bookcase, a man entered the room.
&nb
sp; Equally startled, they stared at each other. The stranger was a slender man, taller than her, of course, but nowhere near Karthajin’s height. He had pale purple skin which was lined with age, and wide set tilted eyes of deep purple. His cloud of white hair swirled rapidly around his face, slowing as he recovered his composure. He scowled at her.
“You’re not exactly the emperor’s usual type. Did he finally decide to go after someone closer to his own age?”
Even if she had been able to speak, she had no idea how she would have responded. Karthajin had a type? And she wasn’t it? That hurt rather more than she expected, and her lip trembled.
“Nothing to say? Well, I don’t suppose he chose you for your brains. Go on now, girl. I’m sure he doesn't want you here when he returns. In fact, I’m surprised Saban hasn’t removed you already.” A sharp-eyed gaze traveled to her hand, still holding her book. “And you definitely shouldn’t be playing with that. Do you have any idea how valuable it is? Put it down at once.”
The combination of his disapproval and the harshness in his voice made her nervous and she fumbled with the book, only to have it slip to the floor. They both watched in dismay as it landed awkwardly and several pages fluttered free.
“Oh, you stupid girl,” he muttered as he approached, and crouched down to pick up the book. She went to help him, and he waved her away impatiently. “Don’t touch it. You’ll only make it worse.” He glanced up long enough to see her white face and trembling mouth and his face softened slightly. “I’ll take care of it. Just leave now. I won’t tell the emperor what happened. Go on with you.”
She had no idea what to do. She’d promised Karthajin that she wouldn’t leave but this man spoke so authoritatively. And perhaps… perhaps Karthajin had sent him to get rid of her. Perhaps he was already regretting having her stay with him, especially if she wasn’t his “type.” Tears falling in earnest now, she stumbled to her feet, trying to find her way to the door. Her headlong rush to depart came to an abrupt end when she ran into a warm, hard body.
Ella and the Emperor (Alien Abduction #5) Page 4