Alanna and the Princess

Chapter 1

Alanna

"I come from a land, from a faraway place..."

You probably know the rest. That story is known throughout the ages, though it is not my story. I am not the son of a poor tailor, nor am I a lowly orphan left to the scraps of society. Hell, I'm not even a man. I am a woman, and though many have found themselves at my feet, I am not a princess either.

I am Alanna, a young woman doing whatever she can to survive in the hot, hellish kingdom of Al-Labia. The city of Fairuza is an oasis, a gleaming pearl at the center of the world. Merchants and travelers of all walks of life come through the city and often stay for a night or two. For the lonely and for the sick of home, they find solace in my arms for fifty gold coins.

I am a courtesan, paid for an hour of company at the Fairuza's finest brothel. I often wear a leather collar with a short length of chain. Some men call me their sex slave; others call me their hot little genii, able to grant their horniest wishes. Either way, I am bound to service them. I treat them as masters, as kings of all men. Some choose to worship at my feet, and more treat me as a man should his own wife, with loving affection. Most treat me as gutter trash, barely better than the thieves and beggars living on the fringes of society.

While most men leave satisfied, I cannot say the same for myself. The men are all heavy-handed, caring only for their pleasure. Even the handful of bearded men who nuzzle at my desert flower are unable to end my drought, unable to draw forth water from the desert, and set me quaking in the sun.

I often pause between clients and look upon the royal palace that casts its shadow over the city. I think about the gleaming marble and the gilded minarets. 

"Once, there was nothing there but dirt. Then, with dreams and a plan it was designed. With many years of work and the designs of many it rose up until finally, the palace stood."

"I know that I can take my dreams and, with planning and hard work, make them come true. I know it."

Then, my thoughts are interrupted with chiming from the hallway beyond my chambers. Such is the life of a courtesan.

As the sun sets each night I am able to satisfy my desires, though only for the night. I still lay alone, with a heart as empty as my bed. I have shed many tears upon the desert sands, praying for the person who could stoke my inner fires and warm my body beneath the cool moon's light. I pray that I soon find my love, though I fear that it may be too late. I know not how much longer I could stand to be this way. I am not living—I only survive.