by Tori Minard
“You know you don’t really want me to do that. You know what you really like – my collar around your neck. Maybe you should get on your knees.”
Her face went white, her jaw rigid. Lenora and the brunette jumped out of their chairs and backed away from the two of them as Tariza lifted her whip. She cracked it in the air.
“On your knees. Now.”
“No.” Make me.
She snapped the whip again, this time licking his calves with the tip. “Down.”
He gritted his teeth against the sharp pain, then forced a grin. “You can’t do it, can you? You’re the one meant to be a slave, Tariza.”
His technique seemed to be working. A crowd of slaves emerged from the crowd and hemmed him in, nearly making a circle around him. Two of them grabbed him by the elbows.
“Good,” Tariza said. “Chain him to the wall. He needs to be taught a lesson.”
They dragged him into the audience chamber, to the same spot where they’d whipped him weeks earlier. She followed, her boots ringing against the flagstone floor. Dario made no attempt to fight the slaves. There were too many of them, and he didn’t want to die today. He only wanted to make her punish him.
As they lifted his arms and clipped his shackles to the ring in the wall, he began to sweat. This was going to hurt. But it was necessary.
“Stand back,” Tariza said.
The slaves backed away from him. He could see nothing but the azure wall in front of his face. If he turned his head to the side, he could take in the length of the wall, but the women were gathered behind him, out of his range of vision. Tariza was at his back, where he couldn’t meet her eyes and let her know it was all right. That he wanted her to do this.
The first strike came without a warning except for the swift whistle of the whip through the air. It hit his skin and left a trail of fire across his back. He jerked in his bonds. Damn, she hadn’t held anything back.
“You are a slave, Dario,” she said grimly.
The whip struck again. Over and over again, until blood began to run down his back. Good girl, he thought. Keep going; don’t let them see you flinch.
“What are you?” she said.
“Prince of Saturnios,” he rasped.
“Wrong. You are a slave.” She hit him again. “What are you?”
The strikes and the question repeated endlessly until it seemed he was nothing but fiery pain. He couldn’t give in too soon, had to make this look real. But there were spots in front of his eyes and he wasn’t sure he could continue. His feet didn’t want to hold him up anymore.
“What are you?” she said again.
“A slave.” His voice didn’t sound like it belonged to him.
“Who is your mistress?”
“You – you are.”
“You are not to speak again, unless given an order. If you speak out of turn, I’ll muzzle you.”
His head sagged against the wall. It was too heavy to hold up anymore.
“Did you hear me, slave?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he whispered.
“Take him down and bring him to my chambers,” she said.
The next few minutes were a blur of pain. The two slaves released him from the wall and hauled him, an arm over the shoulder of each man, through the palace and up stairs that seemed to go on forever. They lugged him through her door and let him fall face down onto the cold, hard floor.
“Is it your desire that we should chain him to the floor, Your Highness?” one of the slaves said.
“Yes.”
He allowed himself to groan. The slaves pulled his arms out over his head, clipping his wrist shackles to a bolt embedded in the floor. They did the same with his feet.
“You may go,” Tariza said.
They shuffled out of the room. The door clicked shut. Tariza knelt beside him.
“You did well,” he said hoarsely, his face pressed to the cold, hard floor.
“You provoked me on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Goddess, Dario. I’ve hurt you. Really hurt you.” She sounded like she might cry.
He licked his lips. “I’ll live.”
“But how are we going to leave with you like this? You can’t run or fight.”
“Leave?” What was she talking about? This was the first time she’d mentioned an active attempt to leave the country.
The door opened again. “Her Majesty the queen,” the guards said.
Tariza sighed. “Hello, Mother.”
“I see you had to beat some sense into him.” Merita’s skirts rustled as she approached.
“Yes, I did.”
“I didn’t think you had the capacity for it,” the queen said waspishly. She didn’t seem to think highly of Tariza at all.
“He provoked me. I taught him who is really in charge here.”
The queen stopped an arm’s length away from him, the hem of her blue and gold skirt just visible through his slitted eyes. “Do you think he’s actually learned?”
“We’ll see. If he doesn’t behave, he’ll only receive more punishment. Eventually, I’ll get through to him.”
Dario groaned softly, more for effect than anything.
“You’re going to mar his pretty skin if you continue to beat him like that.”
Tariza snorted. “Why would you care about that? Besides, there are many punishments that don’t cause permanent injury, but are very painful.” She stroked his hair. “I’ll introduce him to all of them, if necessary.”
Dario shuddered. Good thing he knew she was only putting on a show to impress her mother.
“I’ll send for Holla to take care of his back,” the queen said.
“Don’t bother. I’ll do it. Holla would probably be too easy on him. I hear she favored him.”
“Yes.” The queen sounded amused. “She was rather taken with him.”
That was the first he’d heard of it. She’d seemed more intent on humiliating him than anything else.
“I don’t want her near him,” Tariza said. “He’s mine now.”
“All right. Tend him yourself, if it pleases you. I have business to attend to. I’ll see you at breakfast?”
“Maybe,” Tariza said.
“He won’t be in any condition to service you, if that’s what you’re planning.”
The queen’s callous remark – so like the way Saturnian men spoke about females – brought home to him all over again the utter disrespect he and every other male in Saturnios had always shown the women of their land. It made him ashamed to call himself Saturnian.
“I simply don’t know when I’ll be awake,” Tariza said carelessly.
“Very well. Until tomorrow, then.” The queen’s footsteps retreated across the chamber and out the door.
When Merita was gone, Dario reached for Tariza’s hand. “What did you mean when you mentioned leaving?”
She lay down beside him, her face turned toward his, and whispered. “I can get one of the float cars they used to grab us.”
He frowned. “Do you know how to fly it?”
“Yes.” She smiled wryly. “A little. Do you?”
“No. I’d never been in one until that night, and I don’t remember any of it. They knocked me out.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing. Done.” Dario frowned again. “If you can fly it, do you know how to get to Margelia?”
“I’m not sure. I’m taking lessons. There is navigation equipment on board.” Somehow she managed to shrug, although she was flat on her belly. “Anyway, all we have to do is get out of Concordia. After that, they can’t stop us.”
“Yes, but we need to avoid Saturnios too. I don’t want you back there.”
She smiled at him. “So protective.”
“You’re my woman.” He thought for a moment about the route they’d need to take. “If we have an ordinary map and compass, I can guide us to Margelia.”
“And I can do the same,” she said wit
h a touch of asperity.
“Good. We’re equally competent, then.”
Tariza bit her lip and grinned. “Sorry.”
She pulled a key from a pocket in her skirt and came up on her knees. When she leaned over him to unlock the shackles, he caught a whiff of the herbal scent of her soap. The shackles fell away.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome. We need to treat those wounds.”
“In a moment.” He rolled to his side, ignoring the fire in his back. “Have you thought about what it’ll be like? How we’ll live?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
Dario lifted her hand to his lips. “What if I can’t stop dominating you? What if I can’t learn to live with a woman as an equal?”
“I suspect we’ll be working on that for a long time. On both sides, mine as well as yours.”
“You’re not afraid of me?”
“Goddess, no. I love you. I’d rather be dominated by you than live without you.” She leaned in until their noses touched. “Just don’t think I’m going to let you get away with anything.”
Dario laughed. “Fair enough.”
Chapter 26
The Breaking of Winter’s Back happened every year at this time, while the days grew longer but snow still lay on the ground. Downstairs in the great hall, pots of flowering bulbs forced in the royal greenhouses would brighten the tables with their delicate white and yellow blossoms, along with vases of bare branches dotted with tender green buds. Women dressed in green would crowd the hall, drinking strong wine, laughing, dancing, fondling their slaves.
She’d like to make a gift to Dario tonight, to let him know she was pregnant. Symbolically it was the perfect time to make such an announcement, but she didn’t want to disappoint him in case she was wrong. Better to wait until she was sure.
The slaves all wore headdresses of more spring flowers as well as brightly colored harnesses. Tariza accepted the delicate wreath made of masses of tiny white and gold narcissus from the young slave who’d delivered it and turned to Dario.
He gave her a wary look. “What is that?”
She held it out. “It’s for your head.”
Dario scowled ferociously. “Absolutely not.”
“All the other men will have one.”
“No.” He folded his arms across his bare chest, his black brows savage slashes over narrowed eyes. “There is nothing you can say that will induce me to put that bit of fluff on my head.”
She bit her lip to hold in the smile that threatened to escape. “Come, my love, it’s only for a few hours.”
“It would look better on you.”
“I disagree. I think these white flowers will be very striking against your black hair.”
The look of horror on his face was too much. Tariza giggled.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She tried to hold in the laughter, but it was too strong for her. “Yes,” she chortled. “I’m sorry.”
His lips twitched as crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. “I’ll look like a girl in that.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll be naked except for a harness. No-one will mistake you for a girl.”
“God help me,” he said with a mock groan and a roll of the eyes. “Fine. Hand it over.”
Smiling broadly, she walked to him with the floral crown held high. “I want to be the one to crown you.”
“Rubbing it in?”
“It’s traditional. On your knees, slave.”
He complied with a heavy sigh. “I don’t like this tradition.”
Tariza settled the crown on his head. The narcissus did indeed make a bold contrast with his hair. “It may be the only time I’m able to participate in the Breaking festival with you.”
“I hope so.” His eyes were abruptly somber.
“So do I.” She leaned down and kissed him softly. “I’ll get the harness and then we can go.”
The harness she’d selected was a bright golden yellow. It was the color of Concordia and brought out the gold in the flowers he wore. Seeing him dressed thusly brought back her old fantasies of dominating him, along with a rush of shame. It was good they were leaving. To remain in Concordia would destroy the Dario she loved.
He rose to his feet, lifted his hand to caress her face. “What is it?”
“I’ll be glad to get out.”
“Do you remember our plan?”
“Yes.” They’d verbally rehearsed it all afternoon. “Do you?”
“I have it memorized.”
She clipped a matching lead to the front of his harness. “Then let’s go down.”
The hall was just as crowded as she’d expected. Slaves crowned with flowers knelt at the feet of mistresses in low-cut gowns. A quartet played lively spring tunes and a circle of slaves chained hand and foot with decorative but restrictive chains performed a circle dance in a clear space in the center of the room, their oiled skin gleaming over bulging muscles.
“Please tell me you don’t expect me to dance,” Dario muttered.
“Would I be that cruel?”
“I’m wearing the damned flowers, aren’t I?”
She glanced back at him with a smile. “Don’t worry. No dancing.”
“Good. That way I won’t have to punish you later.”
Tariza’s smile became a grin. “Maybe I’ll have to add shackles to your outfit for my own protection.”
“Don’t you dare.”
She laughed.
At the bottom of the stairs, Anata lifted her head and stared at the two of them. When Tariza drew close, the brunette looked Dario up and down with a disdainful air, her lips turned down at the corners.
“I don’t know why you brought that creature to the festival,” Anata said.
“He’s my personal slave and I wanted him here,” Tariza replied, her voice betraying none of the irritation she felt.
“A Saturnian?”
“He’s Concordian now.”
Anata sniffed. “He’ll never be Concordian.”
Goddess, I hope she’s right. She angled her body to move past Anata, yet the brunette refused to get out of the way.
“I would have thought he’d be in disgrace,” Anata continued, “after the way he behaved the other day. If he were my slave, he’d still be on bread and water rations.”
“How do you know he isn’t?” Tariza said with a lift of her brow.
“I – well, I just assumed –”
“Never assume, Anata.”
“Still, he shouldn’t be here tonight. It doesn’t look right.”
“Oh? How does it look?”
Anata shot another glance at Dario before leaning in to mutter in Tariza’s ear. “As if you cared for him. He looks like a favorite.”
“Don’t you think if I cared for him I’d keep him away from all this?” She waved a hand at the room full of flower-bedecked slaves and Mistresses. “I want him to know what he’s become. I want all of Concordia to see what’s become of Dario Saturnios.”
She glanced at him. With his head high, his jaw tightly clenched, he looked wonderfully sullen and defiant. Tariza unhooked the crop she’d attached to her belt and used it to smack him smartly on his bare ass.
“Amend that expression, slave.” The command was copied, word for word and tone for tone, from him.
He blinked. Rearranged his features to seem blandly pleasant.
“Much better. You’re learning, Dario.” Tariza rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips.
Anata observed this last with an expression of distaste. “I couldn’t bear to soil myself by touching him.”
“I didn’t have the luxury of that attitude in Saturnios,” Tariza said coldly.
“Oh, I’m certain you didn’t.” Anata grimaced unattractively. “But I do believe I’d have taken my own life before I submitted to that beast.”
“She tried,” Dario growled.
The brunette gasped. “Did he speak to me without p
ermission?”
“Be silent,” Tariza snapped, giving him another strike of the crop.
He subsided into glowering silence.
She turned to Anata with a wide, patently false smile. “It’s been so lovely talking to you, but I must greet my mother before the ceremonies begin.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Do excuse me.” Anata moved out of the way.
“Come along, Dario.” She led him into the hall without looking at him.
Until now, she’d never really noticed what a bitch Anata was. Before her capture, she’d considered the other woman a friend. How many other women in this room harbored thoughts identical to Anata’s?
Goddess, was that me? Was I the same way before?
She feared she’d been exactly the same.
Women and men alike sent her and Dario assessing looks, some open and some furtive. Tariza stiffened in anger. Everyone here already knew she possessed him, knew she took him with her everywhere. Why were they staring so?
Deliberately, she slowed her pace, greeting women by name as she passed, petting the occasional slave on a bare shoulder. Let them stare. She had nothing to be ashamed of.
Her mother and Lenora sat at the queen’s table. A slave knelt at the side of each woman. Tariza led Dario to her chair, on the queen’s right hand. Merita’s lips tightened ever so slightly as she watched him take his place at Tariza’s feet.
Then the queen’s face smoothed into a practiced smile. “A joyous Breaking to you, Daughter.”
“And the same to you, Mother. Lenora.”
Lenora grinned at her. “I see Anata caught you on the way in.”
Tariza sighed. “Yes, she did.”
“She’s been complaining continuously since the – um – incident the other day. I wondered when she’d catch up with you.”
“I never knew she could be so rude.”
“Oh, she’s just jealous because she doesn’t have a beautiful favorite of her own.”
Tariza bit her lip. “Every woman in the room must be jealous, then. They’re all glaring at me.”
“Oh, they are.” Lenora laughed.
She didn’t know whether or not to take her sister seriously. Some of these Concordians might truly envy her for her slave, but she sensed waves of loathing coming off the crowd. She could see it in the venomous looks so many were sending Dario’s way. If anything, the women of the court wanted him available for punishment and revenge, not pleasure.