Sacrifice of the Septimus: Part 2 (Afterlife saga Book 7)

by Stephanie Hudson

  “The King wanted you to have something.”

  “Ooh, goodie a gift, I love gifts, I bet it sparkles!” Pip said clapping and jumping up and down next to me.

  “Think again,” I told her as two servants carried in a large copper bath, followed by ten more servants carrying in urns of water, presumably enough to fill it. The last of the servants then carried in a wooden chest and layers and layers of folded silk, which was what I gathered was my outfit for tonight.

  “The chest was sent from Parmida, seeing as although even she wasn’t trusted with your care for tonight, she still wanted to ensure you were perfect for the King.” This reminded me of something even more important that I wanted to ask her.

  “Ranka, about what happened yesterday…” She quickly held up a hand to stop me and said,

  “Now is not the time but we shall speak of these things later. Now you’d better start preparing yourself, for I will be sent back to get you once the sun has set.” And with that she was gone and with it my answers for what had happened with Farrin.

  Pip had never been called for the ‘Persian culture experience’ which was code for ‘torture time’ and she had complained about it one way or another for most of the day. But I had to wonder, had Draven been informed yet but more importantly, after this morning… would he still care?

  Well we would soon find out as the day was quickly coming to an end and my night, well my night was only just about to begin.

  Now all I had to do was…

  Survive it.

  Chapter 55

  Chosen Picture

  “I don’t think I can do this!” I said in a panic grabbing hold of Pip and pulling her closer. She looked around, no doubt looking for Ranka to come back and save the day before murmuring down at me,

  “It will be fine.” This was when I knew to really panic because I had come to live by one fundamental rule when around Pip…if she ever looked concerned, then you should really panic!

  Ranka had come to fetch us as she said she would when the sun had only just set. I had been bathed until my skin felt new and now smelled like a beautician’s wet dream. We had used oils I didn’t even know the name of but if they smelled nice then they went in. Thankfully the only thing we did recognise was soap, so at least I could wash my hair without it looking like it had simply been dipped in chip fat!

  Once I was out and dried, I let Pip take over brushing my hair until it fell into the long waves it usually bounced back up into. Then she pinned it up to one side letting a long golden plait hang down over my shoulder. Once my hair was done she then added a long length of material to match my dress, securing it into my hair so that it trailed down my back and onto the floor like a cape.

  The rest of the dress, I was surprised to say, was quite reserved and not as revealing as I would have thought. Not considering the whole point of this ‘event’ was to show as much skin as possible in order to entice the King into choosing them but maybe I was wrong.

  The top was a long sleeved tunic style jacket that was tight across the breasts, so tight in fact I didn’t think it would close up at first. At one point I thought Pip was going to punch my breasts in it but thankfully with some tugging here and there we finally got it fastened.

  The material was a beautiful peacock blue colour adorned with large golden leaves throughout and framed around the edges. The design was a thick border of smaller gold leaves tightly entwined in lines. This border was used to edge wide cuffs on the sleeves, the bottom part of the top and also the collar running down either side of where the top fastened in the middle. The trousers I wore, which Pip told me were called Shalvars, were in the same shade of blue as the top but were plain without the gold design.

  These had a high waist, held by a thick gold belt that could be seen thanks to the high split in the front of the jacket, as it only fastened just under my breasts so that it could show off my belly.

  “Shame this outfit didn’t come with any bling,” Pip commented after standing back and taking a look at her handy work, which on her part was mainly man handling my breasts.

  “I doubt anyone else will have any and will all be dressed like this,” I said which soon became famous last words as the second we walked into the main hall, Pip turned to me and said,

  “You were saying?” This was because not only was I the only person not wearing any jewels but also because all the other ‘contestants’ were all wearing red. As soon as I walked in the whole room fell quiet as though everyone already knew who I was.

  “I guess gossip spreads quick in this town,” Pip whispered to me before I was ushered up through the centre and to the front.

  When Ranka had come to get us the first thing I noticed was the lack of art supplies she had in her hand and when I asked her about it she just gave me a look I couldn’t decipher and shook her head. I didn’t know what this was supposed to mean and with the guards there I didn’t get the chance to ask.

  This was pretty much when my panic started to kick in. And then this panic started to double when I first entered the room and saw that I was the only one out of the other girls who stood out like a sore thumb! Of course this was nothing compared to the triple, near passing out panic I had when being led down the centre of the massive hall, only to see a stern looking Draven sat on his throne waiting for me. I had to wonder if it hadn’t been planned having me coming in last just to double my humiliation.

  I tried to hold my head up and not give in to temptation to lower my head in shame but one glance at the front and that was easier said than done. Draven sat looking disinterested and important on his golden throne, which was different from the one I had seen him sat in last night.

  This one had a high pillared back with thick red material curtained down from the top two peaks and cascading on either side. Draven was currently drumming his fingers on top of one of the snarling lion heads that decorated the armrests, looking just as mean as the lions themselves. Well I guess that answered my unasked question as to whether, given the day to calm down, he would be in a better mood than how he left this morning. That was certainly a big fat ‘no’ then.

  I had to wonder if that scowl had only just appeared once I entered the room or had it been there all day? I also had to wonder what the other girls thought about their King’s obvious displeasure at tonight’s Choosing?

  The whispering seemed to get louder the closer I got to the front and I had to walk around the large round shaped pool in the middle of the room that was covered in brightly coloured glazed tiles. Flower petals floated in the water and bowls of fruit framed both it and the walkway that had been kept clear for our arrival.

  Men and woman either stood or sat amongst piled cushions on both sides as they were ready for the show that would soon begin. Scantily dressed servants weaved in and out of the guests holding jugs of wine, bowls of nuts and large golden discs filled with what they called ‘sweetmeats’ for the guests to enjoy.

  I couldn’t help but look at the wine being poured into goblets wishing I could steal the jug and drink the lot! I looked off to the other side to see Pip was walking parallel to me all the while keeping me in sight and nodding as if to give me encouragement. Ranka seemed to have quickly vanished after we first arrived, which didn’t give me much hope at all.

  Finally this first round of torture was over as I made it to the front and looking left and right saw that there was only one space left empty for me, which just so happened to be directly opposite the King.

  I was just about to sit down in my desperation to get out of view when I noticed Pip from the side waving at me. I glanced her way to see her bowing like a mad woman, reminding me of royal etiquette. I then quickly bowed before the King but noticed that he too had just seen Pip reminding me of my actions…and once more, he didn’t look impressed.

  “Sit,” he barked at me, making a few more people other than myself jump at the sound of his harsh tone. As I lowered myself to my assigned cushion the gossip doubled because of it and it was only
when he stood that the room silenced. He was dressed in what I gathered was suitable attire for the occasion as was his sister who also sat in a smaller throne next to his. The one on his other side however, still remained empty which had me wondering where Vincent was.

  Sophia wore a stunning purple dress that was made up of layer upon layer of the most delicate looking fabric. It was so fine that had she been only wearing one layer it would have been see-through. Draven wore the same striking purple colour but as a sash around his waist which was combined with leather straps that held an elaborate looking dagger to one side. This same colour continued in the open robe he wore that went down to his knees and the muscles on his bare torso looked hard enough to scrub clothes on…or better still, to lick and kiss all over.

  “I invite you all here tonight, for the time has come for there to be another Choosing of my new Head Concubine. As is tradition the current chosen one, Stateira, can still hold claim to the title if she can still impress me as she once did in the past and yet again I choose her above any other.” Draven said this to the whole room but when he looked down at me I knew who he was really saying it all for.

  I wanted to get up, stamp my feet and shout, ‘fine pick the murderous bitch, you’re welcome to her!’ but I knew that would have only been my anger talking. Besides I don’t think I would have got away with it quite so much as I would have done with the Draven in my time. So thankfully, I kept my mouth shut!

  At least that had answered one of my questions for Ranka, as it was clear she hadn’t yet had chance to tell him of his precious Concubine’s crimes or I doubt very much she would be sat among us as she was now. All I could hope for tonight’s events was that at some point the evil poisonous smirk would be wiped off her face, preferably in the form of a slap from someone…please Lord let it be me, I thought to myself.

  “Let us begin!” he shouted clapping his hands and all the other girls stood up at the same time…all except me, as I had no clue this was what we were supposed to do. I scrambled up as quickly as I could and frowned when I heard the few sniggers directed my way. Draven gave me an amused look and I suddenly knew what this was…

  This was his version of payback.

  He walked down the line starting at the first girl furthest away from me. She was beautiful just like the others and like the rest was scantily clad in red. So not only did I stand out for being the only one in a different colour and mostly covered up but I was also the only blonde in the room. Brilliant, just brilliant I thought sarcastically!

  Draven smiled down at her making me want to growl with jealousy and this was only the first girl. I could only hope that by the time he got to me I wasn’t so outraged that I just slapped him and stormed off! Now I knew how anyone felt knowing their husband was at a strip club for a night with their pick of beauties all lined up waiting to be chosen.

  It was awful and I hated every damn minute of it, but wasn’t that the point he was trying to make? Because I had certainly seen for myself his own reaction to jealousy and this was obviously the perfect way of teaching me that lesson, one that I remember he had cruelly taught me once before back in Sophia’s playroom.

  Draven reached one girl who looked too young and barely legal to be out at night, let alone be someone’s Concubine. Draven gave the girl’s cheek an affectionate stroke and whispered something in her ear. After that the girl looked as though she wanted to burst into tears as she left the line, obviously being told to sit back with the crowd.

  His first elimination.

  Draven continued down the line of half-naked girls having dismissed another two, which now left only seven of us to try and seduce the King with our skills at enticement. But first he had to cast his judgment over me, as I was the last one he faced. I didn’t want to look at him. I was so emotionally drained from the whole experience and it was only the beginning. He must have seen something in my face that told him this because the next words out of his mouth weren’t as harsh sounding as they had been or as I had been expecting.

  “Look at me, Little Lamb.” I did as I was told and slowly looked up at him, knowing I wouldn’t have been able to handle his disapproving eyes like I was dreading.

  “Breathe, Pet,” he told me and I finally let out a held breath as his eyes softened as though he was finally taking pity on my fragile nerves.

  “I have never done anything like this before,” I whispered up at him, deciding to be honest. He gave me a small grin back, bent forward a little and whispered,

  “I am happy to hear it.” Then he put a thumb to my lip to pull it from my teeth and said,

  “Now behave yourself.” After he let me go he clapped his hands obviously for the music to start. He walked up the few steps back to his throne and after flicking aside his robe he sat down, waiting for the first dance to begin, which unfortunately seemed to be me. Once again he looked amused at the clear terror on my face as he beckoned me to stand before him to begin.

  The panic really started to take hold and it was becoming clear as the sniggering and whispers started back up at my expense. Draven’s stare was just as intimidating as the room full of people at my back. It was almost as though I was frozen to the spot. Even when he motioned me forward with his hand I didn’t want to move. Why did it feel like I was being asked to walk the plank?

  He knew I didn’t want to do this, I could see it in his eyes and the way he gripped the lion’s head as though he was fighting with himself to come down and rescue me from myself.

  “Don’t keep him waiting.” Even the girl next to me whispered a warning and I knew my choices were down to none. So with a pounding heart I stepped forward as though I was facing a firing squad. I looked to Pip to see her looking just as panicked but then she spotted someone coming through the crowd and I could only hope it was…it was…

  “Ranka, oh thank God.” I muttered when I saw her, hopefully coming to my rescue.

  “If I may my Lord, I believe she wishes to do something different for your entertainment.” Ranka said coming to stand by my side. Draven looked intrigued and rubbed his beard with one hand as though he was taking his time thinking about it.

  “This entertainment you speak of, explain it to me,” he demanded but just as Ranka was about to speak he held up a hand silencing her.

  “Not from you, Ranka.” Then he nodded past her directly to me. Ranka looked back at me and motioned with her head for me to come forward and to go ahead and explain. I looked back at the room nervously and the second I saw bitch face laughing I knew this was where I was going to find my backbone. I straightened myself up and looked directly to the King, ready to seize the moment. For Pip had been right, I had something here that no one else was going to do and that in itself should be enough to find courage in and be proud of.

  So I couldn’t dance. So I wasn’t looking as sexy as the others. But I was the one who’d had the King in my bed last night and I was the only one who could actually claim to be his real ‘Chosen One’. Even if he didn’t know it yet, I knew this gave me a power that the others didn’t have. So let them dance! Let them flaunt themselves in vain! Because a dance lasted all of a few minutes but what I was going to do would immortalise his image forever by my hand. Not many could claim to have the same skill. I could do this!

  “You can do this.” I whispered my mantra to myself, forgetting myself and that Draven could also hear this. His eyes widened a moment but he didn’t say anything.

  “My King…” I said raising my head up and meeting his intense gaze with one of my own.

  “Tonight I wish to bestow on you a great gift, one that I hope will last throughout the ages.”

  “And this gift you speak of…?” Draven worded it as a questioning sentence he wanted me to finish.

  “A drawing of your image, my Lord, one done here in front of everyone whilst you sit and enjoy the others dancing,” I said trying to make my voice steady enough to sound confident. He tilted his head to the side and ran a hand down his beard again as he thought abou
t this.

  “So you don’t wish to dance for me?” he asked as though being clear on that and I couldn’t help but blush.

  “What good is a harem girl if she can’t dance, My King!?” Someone heckled from the crowd and the others started laughing. Draven looked momentarily outraged and was about to stand when I decided to intervene by coming back with a witty reply.

  “Oh I didn’t say that! For the dance I have in mind is for the King’s eyes only and not one I wish to share with the room…that is, if I am blessed enough to be the one Chosen.” Once I finished the room’s ruckus was now sounded out for very different reasons and mainly by the men who shouted encouragements, like, ‘I would pick her!’ or ‘The King is in for a treat with that one!’

  “Silence!” Draven roared obviously not liking the idea of other men lusting over me or thinking about my sassy reply. The room hushed in an instant and Draven sat back down from his outburst. It was a real confidence booster to know that I now had the approval of the room and some were on my side. Draven raised an eyebrow at me and asked,

  “So you wish to dance for me privately?” I swallowed hard and he watched the motion like a hawk knowing what such a question would do to me.

  “If My King wishes it,” I told him bravely making his eyes widen in surprise before growing intense with the idea of it.

  “Very well. I will accept both but for now, you may grace me with your artistic talents,” he said motioning for Ranka to proceed. Ranka bowed and clicked her fingers once to tell the servants to come forward and place their items down that they carried. They set down a small table in front of my cushion and with it a number of supplies which Ranka had obviously been trying to find in time.

  “Your station awaits you, my little Artist,” Draven said nodding back to my cushion with a smirk he wasn’t trying to hide. I bowed this time remembering my place and gave him a smirk of my own, looking up and saying,