The Raptor Queen

XVII - Not Your Slave

Anai

Our ride back to camp is different than when we'd left. Something more calming about it. More intimate. Brankos is such an amazing creature that it reminds me how pained I am to be away from Biza. She's never left my side from the time she hatched. Showering Brankos helps me feel a little better about our temporary separation. Would I want to bring her to the great city? I'd fear she'd be homesick or something might happen to her. Raptors in the north would surely be a sight. And some cultures would love to chop her up into pieces for her teeth and skin. 

As we arrive to the camp, all the tents are now erect and the smell of quail fills the air. Brankos kneels to allow the King off then lays down to give me a comfortable exit. Once I dismount him, he nudges me again. "Good night sweet Brankos, I will see you again in the morning," I caress him around his ear then under his jaw. He purrs approvingly. 

"He really likes you," Niko states, almost jealously. I smile and begin to walk into camp, but I catch him glance at his steed and whisper, "Traitor," before giving him a friendly pat. 

I laugh at his remark, "Surely he can show favor to someone besides you."

He wraps his arm around my shoulder and speaks softly, "Would you expect Biza to show favor to me, Princess? Last I recall, you saved me from her attack." This is true, I'd be a little upset if she showed him even a smidgen of the kind of affection Brankos has shown me. "Your hand maidens will be waiting for you. I will join you once you're done," his tone light-hearted yet commanding. 

Has he not learned his lesson? I stop walking and fold my arms, tapering back my annoyance to sound as kind as possible, "I am not required by you, your highness, and you will do well to remember that. I'm here as a kindness, not as a servant." He pivots to stare at me, eyes narrowed in surprise. Guess he's so accustomed to telling others what to do that he forgets I'm not them. Or perhaps he'd thought his charm was beginning to wear me down, little does he know I'm not swayed by such pleasantries.

He approaches me cautiously, raising his hands to touch my arms, "I didn't mean it that way, Daonessa, I assure you. I meant it merely as if to let you know. I thought you enjoyed it last evening?" His brows raise in question, his eyes innocently staring into mine.

"I did," my teeth grit, "But I'm also a princess in my own right. And courting or not, I'm not told what to do by any man." Perhaps with the exception of my father. 

"Agreed," he softly states. Wait, he's not denying it? "I only wanted to continue courting you properly, by offering you such luxuries. Am I mistaken to do such things?"

Damn damn damn. Damn him! He's skilled at making me feel ungrateful at any given moment, like some spoiled rotten little royal from a far away land who has no manners. My arms drop to my sides and I fidget while hesitating, "I... I didn't mean it that way. I um, thank you, your Grace. Just remember, I'm your guest. Not your slave or one of your men." I had to be sure he knew. Slowly, but surely, my wish to kill him fades, but still want to exact my revenge on that father of his. And from the sound of it, he wouldn't mind ridding himself of the man either. The Gods have a much more agonizing death in mind for him it seems.

He clears his throat, "How about this," he steps a little closer to me, so close I could feel the heat surging from him. His masculine scent filling my head with possibilities of things I apparently only dream about. He takes my hand and kisses it, "There is a warm bath waiting for you. Two hand maidens who enjoy your company. And beautiful threads wishing to touch your skin. Might I offer these items to you and request the joy of your company for another evening?"