Captive Bride 2; Daughter of Sparta

by Andromeda

  Dressed in a gown of silver and green, her headband was encrusted with emeralds, the makeup on her eyes was green also; even her armbands she wore had emeralds in them. It was to make the green of her eyes pop out. She gave herself one last look before she left her chambers and walked outside. It didn’t take her long to reach the courtyard, and when Zenobia saw that she was there, she nodded.

  “I was almost worried that you weren’t coming,” she said.

  “I know when to fight my battles,” Philomena said as she held her chin high. “This isn’t one to fight with a sword.”

  Zenobia’s lips curved. “You are learning. Good.”

  “Announcing His Royal Highness, King Darius of Persia!” the herald yelled again.

  Both women turned to the gates where a large progression of people thundered inside. Several horses surrounded a black one in the center, and on the back of it was Darius. The young king looked at the people, his eyes searching for the one that was to be his bride and it didn’t take him long to find her. His eyes snapped onto Philomena in an instant, and they widened. She was nothing like he had expected her to be; he was expecting a muscular, bulky woman, not the semi-dainty woman who stood next to the Queen Regent. It also took him a second to realize that she was the girl that he saw a couple of years ago.

  She wasn’t a girl anymore… he thought to himself. Not anymore…

  When his horse came to a stop, Darius jumped down and slowly walked up the stairs and stood before Zenobia and Philomena, though his eyes were mainly on Philomena. He took in her appearance and found that he liked it, physically anyway. So, he pulled himself to his fullest height and cleared his throat.

  “Greetings, Your Highness,” he said in Greek.

  “Greetings to you, too,” Philomena said back, also in Greek. “I hope your travels were well?”

  “It was actually, yes,” Darius said. “However, your roads are very…rocky.”

  Philomena frowned slightly but stopped herself from snapping back. “Shall we go inside? There is chilled wine in the dining hall.”

  “Of course,” Darius said. “But I should see that my party is unpacked.”

  He turned around and walked to a carriage, opening the door. Two women stepped out, one that was clearly the King Mother, and another, a woman that Zenobia didn’t know. She frowned when she saw how familiar he seemed with the woman, and then she realized that the woman was his mistress. A blind man could see that, and she instantly felt insulted that Darius had dared to bring a woman like that to something this important. She knew how to handle that.

  Everyone walked into the palace, Darius with the woman; Philomena ignored them. Instead, she walked with her younger siblings, talking to Zeta who was giggling like a young girl and whispered how handsome she thought Darius looked. Philomena didn’t want to hear anything about Darius; instead, she cast a longing look to Abeeku, who walked alongside another man; a man that Philomena had never met before. Ajax, the new Captain of the Guard, walked behind Zenobia; however, his eyes were fastened onto one thing: her rear.

  The seasoned warrior was Thracian by birth, yet he came to Sparta after the first Persian war. He stayed, as he liked the country and quickly rose through the ranks. He hadn’t truly gotten the attention of anyone, save for Srax and Abeeku, who he worked with sometimes; there was one person he wished he could gain attention from: Zenobia.

  He’d watched her from afar. He told himself that he couldn’t have any dealings with her in the past because she was the Queen Regent and she was most likely still in mourning from the loss of her husband. It’d been over a decade since King Alexander died; surely, she wanted a man in her bed. And he was just the man to fill the vacancy; something he planned to do very soon.

  *******

  The small dining experience didn’t exactly go well. Darius and his court stayed among themselves; the Spartans did the same. Zenobia watched this and frowned deeply, as this wasn’t going according to plan. Across the room, she made eye contact with Rhodogune. The King Mother also was angered at the clear segregation in the room; this had to shattered.

  “The Persians not acting the way you thought so, Your Highness?” a deep voice at her side asked.

  Zenobia turned and saw a man with shoulder-length brown hair appear at her side, two golden goblets in his hands. He had a chiseled chin, grey eyes, and a lightly trimmed beard on his face. A face that reminded her of Alexander, but was at the same time completely different.

  “Do I know you?” she asked, accepting one of the goblets.

  The man smirked and bowed. “Ajax is my name, my queen. Captain of the Royal Guard.”

  “I see,” Zenobia said with an arched eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be at your post? Watching over us instead of drinking?”

  “I am on my post,” he said, leaning slightly close. “I am watching my queen very…very closely…”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth slowly; Zenobia could see the movement behind his lips and frowned. Yet there was a spark inside that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. A spark she hadn’t felt since the death of Alexander. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm. Such a thing was in reality a death sentence, yet he didn’t seem bothered by such a threat that hung over his head.

  “Leaving so soon, my queen?” he whispered huskily.

  “Let me go,” Zenobia said firmly, strangely feeling a quiver between her thighs. “Now.”

  Ajax smirked slyly. “Are you sure you want me to do that, Highness? Or would you like me to…hold you in another location just as tight.”

  “You forget yourself,” Zenobia hissed.

  She glanced around, hoping that no one was watching them. No one was even close to them; no one was paying attention. Yet, such a thing wasn’t proper for him to be holding her the way that he was. So, she yanked her arm free and turned to face him, but found that he was within inches of her face.

  “Give me space,” she said, forcing her voice to keep from quivering. “Now.”

  “Such a demanding woman…” he said with a smirk, taking a step forward. “Were you this demanding in bed…?”

  “What do you want?” Zenobia asked.

  “I just want to take care of my queen…” he whispered. Before she could stop him, his hands reached forward and grabbed her rear, pulling her close. “…in any way I can…”

  Before she could reprimand him, he pulled his hand away, kissed it, bowed, and then walked away. As he turned away, a smirk formed on his lips; this was going to be so much fun. It had been a long time since he had found a worthy partner in wit; he just might have found one…

  *******

  The following morning, a great hunt was planned in order to show the Persians that the Spartans were as good as, if not better than, themselves in the saddle. When Philomena went out to check on her horse, she was surprised to find that the women were dressed in elaborate clothing, richly perfumed, as if they were all going out for a dinner or some kind of party.

  “Why are you dressed like that?” Philomena asked one of them.

  “It’s how we dress for a hunt,” the woman answered. “His Highness the King expects it from us.”

  “He expects you all to look like that?” Philomena asked, confused.

  She looked down at her own clothes. She, like all other Spartan women coming with them, was dressed in leather leggings, a knee-length tunic with leather gloves and hunting boots. That was the proper attire for hunting, not whatever the Persian women were wearing.

  I hope that king doesn’t expect me to dress like that…she thought to herself as she swung up onto her horse.

  The powerful animal snorted, pawing the ground, which made Philomena chuckle softly. She’d always loved riding; the feel of the wind in her hair made her feel so free. She glanced to where everyone was mounting up, her eyes rested on Darius, who stood with that strange woman. Her mother told her that she was his mistress, which gave Philomena mixed emotions. She didn’t know how exactly to feel, knowing that he had brough
t her here. Her mother was enraged, of course, as he should have made her stay back in Persia.

  “Drachma for your thoughts, my princess?” a deep voice said at her side, startling her from her thoughts.

  Philomena sighed softly when she saw that it was Abeeku. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you have seemed so deep in thought, my lady,” he said.

  “You know I hate it when you call me that,” she grumbled.

  “I am playing my part as ‘royal guard’,” he said sarcastically. “So I must.”

  “I’ll be glad when he leaves…” she sighed. “I don’t want him here.”

  “You’ll have to get used to it, my lady,” he said. “You’ll be married in a few years.”

  Before she could answer back, the horses began to move out and thus, they had to cut the conversation short. The party trotted out of the gates; it was to be the two royal families, their guards, and a couple of courtiers. They moved slowly at first, but the pace was too boring for Philomena, so she kicked her horse.

  The animal neighed loudly, reared, and then thundered down the roads. The Spartans all let out loud roar cries and followed her example, giving their horses swift kicks and then raced after her. The Persians looked at them with wide eyes, a mixture of disgust and shock on their faces as they had never seen royals act this way. However, when they saw that they were going to be left behind, they kicked their horses and hurried after them.

  Philomena shrieked with laughter, her hair flying behind her as the horses kicked up dust as they charged through the fields. She glanced behind her at Darius, and saw that he had a strange smile on his face as his horse moved closer and closer to her own. She smirked and winked at him, a clear invitation to race, which he wouldn’t pass up. The goal was a large oak tree.

  He laughed and kicked his horse again, the animal responded. It pressed harder, its hooves digging into the ground as it charged faster and faster. Philomena laughed and did the same thing to her own horse. Both animals worked hard in trying to outdo each other, but in the end, it was Philomena who reigned victorious.

  “Yes!” she cried, pulling her horse to a stop. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  Darius laughed, patting his own horse’s neck. “That wasn’t fair! You had a head start!”

  “I’ll race you again,” she said. “This time, back to the palace!”

  “You do that again and your horses are going to drop dead,” Zenobia chuckled. “Besides, we are here to hunt, remember?”

  “I wager I can find a stag first,” Darius said to Philomena.

  “I wager you can’t,” Philomena said.

  Zenobia glanced to Rhodogune, who appeared at her side. “Highly competitive, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are,” Rhodogune said with a slow smile. “This just might work…”

  *******

  The wagers on who saw the stag first had to be a tie, as both royals saw one at the same time and claimed it. Darius tried to shoot it first, yet it was Philomena who claimed the kill with her arrows. They brought back five deer, two wolves, and four boars to the palace. When they returned, a surprise was waiting for them; well, really, two surprises.

  “MATTHIAS!” Philomena cried when she saw her brother.

  Matthias chuckled and held open his arms. “Hello again, little sister!”

  “Little?” Philomena repeated in mock-shock. “I’m older!”

  “By only a couple of minutes!” he said back. “Besides, we are twins!”

  Philomena laughed and hugged him tight. “Oh, Matt…I’ve missed you so!”

  “I’ve missed you too, Mena,” he said, stroking her head. “Three years is too long. Someone wants to meet you.”

  There was a soft cooing behind him, and when he stepped to the side, Philomena’s eyes widened. Behind him stood Adonia with a baby in her arms. Her friend smiled shyly—which was a first for her—and stepped forward with the small bundle.

  “His name is Alexander,” she said.

  “You named him after Papa…” Philomena whispered, taking the young one in her arms.

  “Yes,” Matthias said.

  “And soon he will have another sibling,” Adonia said, stroking her stomach.

  Philomena looked down, and saw that Adonia was pregnant. It was early, but she was pregnant nonetheless. “You two have been busy,” she remarked.

  “Well, when you are stuck on a ship with only each other…” Matthias said with a shrug.

  “Gross, Matt,” Philomena said, wrinkling her nose. “That is not something I want to know!” She couldn’t help but laugh at them, however. “I missed you both… So much has happened since you left.”

  “I have so much to tell you,” Matthias said with a smile. “So many tales I have to tell you!”

  “That will have to wait,” a voice said behind them.

  “Mama,” Matthias said with a smile when he saw Zenobia.

  “Welcome back, my son,” Zenobia said, her arms open.

  He rushed forward and hugged her, before bowing his head for her blessing. “I have missed you, Mama.”

  “And I you, my son,” Zenobia said with a smile. “But tales will have to wait, as this is your sister’s day.”

  Matthias looked to Darius and his group, who watched them curiously. “I see…” the young prince said. “Well, this will be very interesting…won’t it?”

  *******

  Darius laid in his bed, chuckling, as Amani, who was naked before him save for jewelry on her body; danced seductively for him. He was supposed to pick one of the pieces of jewelry, in order to give to Philomena as a goodbye gift; but he kept getting distracted by Amani. Strangely, he found that he had fun today, and Philomena…seemed interesting. He sort of liked her fiery spirit, but just as he was about to consider this deeper, Amani spun around.

  “Well?” she asked. “What do you think, my lord?”

  “I don’t know which to pick!” he laughed. “They all look too beautiful on you!”

  “Then don’t pick any one…” Amani purred. “Let me have them all!”

  Darius grinned. “Alright then…how about we—” a knock on the door made him stop and he frowned; he wasn’t expecting anyone. He stood up and walked to the door and opened it, surprised to find Philomena standing there. “O-Oh…can I help you…?” he asked.

  “I wanted to give you this…” Philomena said, holding up a box. “As a…kindness gift…”

  Darius was surprised. He hadn’t expected her to be here, and he didn’t really want her to be there at that moment as he had Amani in the chambers. “Erm…thank you…” he said, trying to wedge himself in the door to keep her out. “But now isn’t the time…”

  “Why not?” Philomena asked.

  “Darius…” Amani called from inside. “What is taking so long?”

  Philomena looked at him, her eyes wide, and then she narrowed them. “Who is that?”

  Darius frowned at her. “Who I am with doesn’t concern you. If we are to marry, know that husbands do not answer to their wives.”

  Philomena shoved herself inside; she looked around and found a naked Amani standing in the middle of the room, her eyes wide with shock. She turned to Darius. “I came here to try and be nice to you, to tell you that I had a good time tonight with the hunt, but I see that I was wrong. You and your whore will get out of my city this instant!”

  “You don’t order me!” Darius snapped. “You aren’t the queen here; you are just a princess.”

  “My mother would command it!” Philomena snapped back.

  Darius laughed. “Your mother? The African whore? She isn’t a queen, she’s just a…”

  Philomena pulled her fist back and punched him in the mouth before he could finish. “You will take that back!” she yelled at him. “You know nothing about my mother!”

  “How dare you put your hands on me!” Darius yelled at her.

  He pulled his hand back and slapped her across the cheek. Instantly, he felt ashamed of himself; he’d never l
aid his hands on a woman before. For a moment, he stepped forward, as if to help her, but then the doors to the chambers burst open and several guards, as well as Zenobia and Rhodogune, walked inside.

  Zenobia took one look at Philomena holding her face and then turned to Darius. “You dare lay your hands on the Queen of Sparta?”

  “Queen?” Darius repeated. “S…She was only…a princess…”

  “And you still believe that gives you the right to put your hands on her?” Zenobia said coolly. “In Sparta, the next ruler can become so if they are deemed fit to rule; my daughter is of age and I see no reason why she cannot be queen. However, you have insulted all of Sparta by putting your hands on her queen. Thus, that gives me the right to have your head, but because I am being generous, you will leave. Now.”

  “I am guessing the wedding won’t take then…” Darius asked.

  “You are guessing wrong,” Zenobia said.

  “What?” Philomena and Darius said at the same time. “You can’t be serious!”

  “Abeeku, see to the Queen’s health,” Zenobia commanded. “As for you, Your Highness, you will be gone at first light. And remember this: Sparta never forgets, and you need us. Not, the other way around.”

  Chapter Ten

  The temple was smoky, the scent of the slaughtered bull before her made Philomena’s stomach turn, but she knew that she had to be strong. She had to show all that she was worthy of the task before her. Today was the day, the day of her 20th birthday and the day that she would officially be crowned Queen of Sparta.

  The disaster of her 19th birthday was long forgotten, and Philomena had a plan: break the allegiance with Persia, no matter what. She didn’t care what the Council said; they would answer to her, not the other way around. She would break that allegiance with Persia and then, well, she had a nice little plan in mind for the Persians. People always wanted war, when word had spread of what Darius had done.

  The bruise he had left had long gone physically, but emotionally, it would always be there. She would never forgive him for what he did. Her father never laid a hand on her mother; Zenobia most likely would have killed him before he could.