by Emera Rose
"So stubborn. Agreed, you are not my pet. I will give you as much respect as I can, but you need to realize that I need to be stern with you."
"Ok, I understand that."
"Just don't take it to heart, ok."
"Got it, no more crying." I looked down as I heard him walking out. He had not told me to go back to speaking to him how I should, so now was the only time that I could ask this question where he may answer. "Do you really think that I am only good on my back?" It was soft, but I know he heard me.
He stopped in his tracks, "I don't know Laramie, I guess part of me wants to know, and that’s why I said it. But don't worry, I am not into forced play. If I were to lay with you, you would be begging me for it." He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me staring at his back, and my jaw firmly planted on the floor.
Did he just say he wanted to know what it was like to bed me? That I would beg for it? I shook my head, trying to cleanse the visions. The last thing I needed was to be thinking about making love with the prince.
***
"Laramie!" I swear I would change my name once I got out of here. I walked into the prince's chamber, and my mood perked up immediately. He was clad in nothing but under trousers. He’d never let me see him in this state of undress before. I scanned the room, and my good mood turned sour once again. He had clothing strewn in every direction, and my once immaculate room was now a battlefield of tunics, belts, and shoes.
"Laramie." He called once again, not noticing I was already in the room.
"I’m already here, milord."
His head snapped to where I was, "Oh, yes, well, make some noise next time."
Make some noise? He could hear me snoring in my room, and I don't snore loudly. But he wanted me to make some noise when I was a mere few feet away from him. He must have a lot on his mind.
"I need something to wear." He pulled another tunic out and threw it to the floor.
"Yes, milord." I walked up beside him and pulled out a simple brown tunic with gold fibers running through and dark brown leather trousers to match.
"No, no, it has to be better than that." He took the items out of my hand and threw them to the floor. I huffed as I watched the cloth float effortlessly down. He looked at me, aware of my ever-changing mood, then looked at the room, I assume now realizing he’d made quite a mess. "I apologize for my disarray, but I wasn't expecting to do this today, and now that I have to, I feel like my garments should match the occasion. But nothing seems right."
"My lord may I ask what the occasion is, as it may help me locate a better option."
He smiled brightly, the first that I had ever seen. It stilled my heart even if it was just momentarily.
"It’s coronation day. They are finally crowning me King."
I smiled as well; this was a big day for him. "Right, well, I understand why you feel like you don't have anything that would work in here. All of these are everyday tunics." I walked over to another closet, this one smaller all the garments inside wrapped in either plastic or paper. I pulled out one outfit to instantly put it back. Too many jewels, screamed more festive party than I am your new king. Finally, I found a piece that I was sure would be perfect. "This one, milord."
The tunic was long, down to mid-thigh, and the color of flames. Pale gold jewels adorned the neckline, and the sleeves were a darker red leather woven down to the wrist, resembling the armor many of the army wore. The pants were a thick cloth, the same color as his sleeves. When I reached down to get him a pair of boots, he quickly declined.
"No, I will wear these." The same tattered old boots he wore every day.
"My lord those will not go-"
"I did not ask your opinion on this matter. I have already said that I will wear those boots and that is final." He ended on a softer tone, letting me know that he was still in formal mode but trying to consider my feelings. I appreciated it.
"Yes, my Prince, if that’s the case, will you allow me at least to wash and polish them?"
He looked down, clearly torn but in the end, conceded. "Yes, that will be fine." He grabbed my arm as I reached down to retrieve them, "If you break or damage these shoes in any way, there will be hell to pay, understood?"
"Yes, milord."
I laid out his garments and retreated to my room to scrub his boots. After thirty minutes of scrubbing and polishing, I was able to make those raggedy black worn boots look like new. Luckily for me, they were well made and of superior material. I could see in some places the sole was worn clear through, but there was nothing I could do about that now. They would just have to do.
I walked into the prince's chambers and was stopped in my tracks by a glorious sight. He had donned the garments I’d laid out for him and was standing there waiting for me in all his glory. The pants fit perfectly, loose enough for him to walk comfortably and even run if needed but fitted so I could see the definition of his thighs. The tunic of red silk laid perfectly on his torso, hiding his perfectly chiseled abs, and the low neckline gave a great view, albeit small, of his broad, powerful chest a smattering of chest hair lay flat against his skin. The leather weaving on the arms had the toughest job but seemed to be holding up reasonably well. With every movement, a bulge would protrude on his arm, but the fibers just moved right along with him. I was happy I’d picked this and that he looked so powerful wearing it. This is what his castle needed to see this power.
"Will you stand there and gawk, or may I have my shoes?" He smiled that wicked smirk at me, knowing full well that I’d been checking him out.
"I am sorry, my lord."
"Speak freely; how do I look?" He stood and raised his arms slightly.
"You look wonderful, I am not sure who the tailor was for this piece, but we need to get more for you." I smoothed my hand down his side, feigning I was messing with the lining. I just wanted to feel him.
"I did not give you permission to touch me."
I dropped my hand, and my eyes immediately. How foolish! I looked back up when he started to chuckle.
"Take a joke, Laramie." He pulled my hands back onto his side.
I smiled up at him. This was the side of him that I liked to see. The human side, well as human as a vampire could be. "You must do something with that hair." The wayward strands were sticking every which way. "And what about the face? Will you be shaving? You should."
"If you think so, I will." He made his way into the bathroom, and suddenly I was overly concerned by what he was wearing. He may mess it up. I can't have that.
"Wait! I called to him." I picked up a white piece of cloth. Making sure it was clean and made my way over to him as quickly as I could. "Here, wrap this around your neck." He bent down so I could put the fabric in his collar. He was close to me, closer than we have ever been. His face mere inches away from mine. He let out a breath, and my mind spun. I was entranced. His hazel eyes focused solely on my chocolate-colored ones. He didn't blink, nor did I. My face began to heat at his attention, and my breath caught in my throat.
"Laramie, am I ready?" He spoke softly, breaking me free from the trance.
"Oh, yes, my lord. Sorry about that."
"Why apologize?"
I decided that this line of questioning was too much for me to handle at the moment, "For your hair, wet it and comb it back, use the aloe to keep it in place." Subject changed.
"Yes. And for the beard?"
"Clean it up. You want to look sharp and put together for your subjects. More than half of your kingdom is of the female persuasion, and it’d be easier to appeal to them while showing your strength for the men."
He laughed slightly, "Do you have a background in politics?"
"No, not at all. Just a bit of common sense is all."
"I see, well, let’s not disappoint the women." He turned to walk into the bathroom. I stood at the door, waiting and watching him shave and groom himself properly. I was right. His brown hair changed color with the application of the water and the aloe. It was now darker, making his
eyes stand out more, also helping them to appear scarier, more focused. The shape of his beard now played up the contours of his face. His strong jaw emitted a power that signified that he was ready for whatever was thrown his way. I was impressed.
"My lord, if I may say so, you clean up very nice." I stood back with my arms crossed over my chest, nodding at him in appreciation.
He gave me a full smile that one dimple shining through. "Why, thank you, Laramie. All I have ever wanted, the approval of my slave."
"Well, whether that was all you wanted or not. You got it, Jett." I smiled up at him. Instantly my face dropped when I saw the look in his eyes.
"What did you just call me?" His voice was laced with an emotion I couldn’t identify.
"My lord, my Prince, I’m so out of line. I should’ve never!" I tried to backtrack. What was I thinking to be that familiar with him? He was to be a king and I, a slave. There was a line, and I had definitely crossed it.
“What did you call me?"
"I am-"
"What?" He repeated, this time, his voice even lower than the first.
"Jett," I whispered almost silently, cringing, waiting for the blow to come.
"Again."
My eyes popped up to his face, which was now bathed in calmness it seemed. His eyes closed and his head fell to the side like he relished the sound of me calling him by his given name.
"Jett," I said again, this time louder.
"Laramie, I have been referred to as king, my lord, my prince, your highness, and every other word of reverence you can think of, but it has been so long since someone has just said my name. Spoken to me like I am a regular person." Finally, he opened his eyes, looking straight into mine. He placed his hands on either side of my face. "When we are speaking to each other in this manner, this is what I want you to call me. Just me, remind me that I am not some all-powerful king, but that I am just Jett."
"But you are some all-powerful King, or at least you will be in a few moments." I tilted my head the best I could in his steady hands. I could do this; I could be his anchor, holding him to the ground when everyone around him just wanted to lift him.
"As your king, this is what I ask of you." He said with that air of authority again.
I nodded in agreeance, getting sucked back into those hazel colored eyes.
"Milord, are you..." Helene walked in, catching us in this strange embrace. Instantly his hands dropped, and he moved back straightened and made his way toward her.
"Yes, let us go." He strolled by her as she stood there, just looking at me.
***
"In every kingdom, there is a great leader. Our kingdom is no different, we have King Jett!" The crowd's voice boomed with applause and agreement.
"He has battled and lived to tell it, our King chose him before he laid down for the eternal sleep, and we accept him as our King now to honor them both." Another loud cheer.
"He will take our lands to heights never before seen, his name will live on in the legends of time, and we will be feared from nation to nation as the kingdom lead by the Great King Jett!" Thunder from below. "Now show the proper respect for the induction of our King." With that, everyone fell to one knee. I did the best I could, awkwardly trying to kneel in some manner. I’d been placed to the side of the stage, being aide to the king got me a great position but also right in the middle of thirsty bloodsuckers. The only thing keeping me alive right now was the fact that I was Jett's, and if anyone harmed me, they would have to answer to him.
The Maester beckoned Jett down to the steps below him, and he stood opposite the Maester, ready to take his holy vows. We’d chosen the perfect outfit for this, and he looked the part.
"Prince Jett, do you swear to uphold the values and traditions of our people?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to fight until your last day, for the safety of our people."
"I do."
"Do you swear to push us to prosperity and dominance?"
"I do."
"Do you swear to be the pinnacle of our people, to be the example we all strive to be?"
"I do."
"Yes, indeed, you do. With those vows said, I now crown you," The Maester pulled a crown from a velvet pouch. Gold metal with crushed diamonds engulfed the entire piece. Larger diamonds of different colors lay nestled in the piece, not one the same size as the other. It glinted with every movement of the Maesters hand, "King Jett of the Froize!” He placed the crown on his head, and the arena erupted in noise. Everyone was yelling, though no clear words could be made out.
The new king stood tall and looked out toward his people, scanning the crowd emotionless, he reached my section, and if I didn't know any better, I would have sworn he purposefully looked for me. He stopped his search when his eyes hit mine and gave me a slight nod. At least I think it was for me. I smiled at him, and he continued his scan. Was he looking for my approval? Was he even looking at me? I made my way to the back of the coronation area and waited for the new King to finish his rounds. I have a king's quarters that need to be cleaned.
Chapter 8
"Laramie!"
I dropped everything I had in my arms and walked into the king's main room. There were servants and soldiers all around him. His yes men, they were always there, making sure he didn't need to walk further than a step. They were complimenting him on everything he said, bringing up mundane issues just to get his attention and garner his favor. Every day since they crowned him king was a party. I scurried behind people, picking up what they left behind. Trying to make sure his area was still clean at the end of the day. I never succeeded.
"Yes, my King."
"Pull out the latest scripts from Dr. Justino."
"Yes, my King." Dr. Justino was a whack job who liked to run experiments on everything. His latest tests were on humans. He sent out notices of his findings every few weeks. The king had begun receiving these the day he took his oath. I pulled out the latest scripts and cringed at what I saw. From what I could make out from the drawings, they were working on a new way to store blood. I brought the parchment to him, neglecting to look him in the eyes.
"My King." I reached out to give them to him when a different vampire practically ripped them away from me. She batted her eyelashes at him and made sure to touch his arm when he retrieved the papers from her. He didn't pay her an ounce of attention, and I turned to leave him to his posse.
"Laramie, this is not the one I wanted. Can you check the script before this one?" I took it from him only to be shouted at by the vampire with the eye problem.
"Ugh! What good are you? Can't you get your King the correct item without him having to waste his time? You," She pointed her finger in my chest, hard, "are a waste of space." She rolled her eyes and began to walk in the direction I had just come. I followed behind her dutifully.
She stopped in front of the shelving area that I was in, but she did not know which drawer held the correct information. "Which one is it?" She hissed at me.
"That one." I pointed to the correct one.
"Which?" She didn't bother to look back at me, so I pointed again. "This one here." I moved a little further forward so she could see me in her peripheral vision.
Hot tears sprung to my eyes as she grabbed me by the short hairs on the back of my neck, "Who is the servant here? You or me?" She threw me on the floor, my face mere inches away from the hardwood drawers in front of me. "Now, get me the script!" She screamed, causing me to startle.
A gust of wind caught my attention, making me turn back toward the vampire who should have been standing behind me. She wasn't. I turned my head side to side, trying to locate her. Finally, when I turned all the way around, I saw her a foot off the floor, king Jett, holding her up by her neck against the far wall, slowly squeezing until I could hear bones popping.
"I will say this once, and only once, no one will touch any of my personal effects, Laramie is my aide, she is an extension of me. If I even hear you raise your voice to her, you will hear f
rom me." He looked around the room to all the surprised faces, "Is that understood?"
No answer.
With power in his voice that would’ve made me fall to my knees if already wasn't on the floor, he demanded an answer, "Is that understood!"
"Yes, my King!" They all replied at once.
He dropped the female vampire from where he’d held her, "Do you understand?"
"Yes, my King." She squeaked while rubbing her throat.
"Good, now go fetch my script, and it better be the right one."
The woman walked over to me; the fear etched on her face. I got to my feet and stood to the side. She walked to the drawers and went to open the wrong one.