The First Wife

The Concubine

With detached interest, she observed the king and his newly crowned queen greet their guests, graciously accepting their gifts and salutations. They looked perfect together. The king, so dark and compelling. Beautifully masculine. His lovely but enigmatic queen, radiating an undefinable mystery.

She found herself intensely curious about the true color of the queen's eyes and imagined the king's well-formed body under his rich, brocaded garments. Even though she was his concubine, this was as close as she'd ever been to him. Watching him across a vast reception hall full of people.

She caught the general's cold grey eyes on her, sharp as steel, his chiseled lips turned down in a slight frown. Reminding her it wasn't polite to stare at royalty, to fantasize about them. With a smirk hidden behind her veil, she obediently dropped her gaze to the marble floor, her thoughts now occupied with the persistent rumors of the king and his noble general. Lifelong friends, but perhaps much more. Yet seeing the king's hand lingering on the queen's arm or back, always touching her, she could tell he loved his wife. Or at the very least, desired her.

The realization made her feel both bitter and hopeless.

                                                                    *

Escorted through the palace under guard, it was the first time she'd stepped foot outside the harem in several months. It seemed Master Galen had finally given up and washed his hands of her. Her latest refusal must have been the last straw.

She wondered who'd been tasked with dealing with her. Probably the king's general, the impressive but austere man who solved the king's more thorny problems. Shown into a nondescript room, however, she was confronted with the king himself.

"Please sit," he said in a pleasant, rich voice. "What is your name?"

She allowed a sneer to twist her lips, depending on her veil's concealment. Insulted that he hadn't bothered to learn it, or anything else about her, apparently.

"Amber, Your Majesty," she replied coolly, giving him the nickname they had called her since she entered the royal harem ten years past.

"Amber." The king hesitated, examining her with watchful intelligence. His slight frown implied he didn't like it. Well, neither did she.

After another uncomfortable silence, he asked, "Would you care for tea? Or wine?"

She raised her chin. "You needn't be polite, Sire. Have I finally become more trouble than I'm worth?"

His brows rose, but he took her rudeness in stride. "Master Galen is worried about his inability to find you a husband."

She flushed, ashamed. She didn't mean to plague Master Galen, she loved him like a father. But when it became clear their handsome young king had no interest in his harem, she'd decided on a quiet campaign of defiance. She crossed her arms, looking past him out the window.

"I can't help it if no one wants me. I'm thought to be willful and difficult I believe. Which is fairly accurate. Sire," she added as an afterthought.

He smiled grimly. "I've been told you've refused many more suitors than have rejected you."

"Your Majesty gave us the right of refusal, did you not?" she shot back.

Unexpectedly, he reached out to push back the hood of her cloak, uncovering her red-brown hair, and yanked the gossamer veil from her face. She blinked, startled. But he had the right. She belonged to him, after all, even though he couldn't wait to be rid of her and all the other harem women.

He regarded her for a long moment, his mouth thinning into a frown as if annoyed by her beauty. She'd always felt her rare amber-gold eyes were more a curse than a blessing. And she didn't think her finely drawn features deserved any particular admiration, the contours of her face elegant yet sharp. Neither sweet nor delicate. And never demure.

The king leaned back against his desk. "I was going to release you but, to put it bluntly, you wouldn't be safe outside the protection of the palace."

"If you free me, Sire, surely my safety is my own concern," she retorted, just to be argumentative.

Unfortunately, he was right. She'd lived a cosseted existence her entire life and resented that she couldn't take care of herself outside a gilded cage. Not without a husband. She must be in some man's keeping or become fair game to any, free or not.

He sighed in exasperation. "You're deliciously provocative, but we're getting nowhere. Let us try to have a frank conversation. What do you want?"

She glared at him, more startled than she cared to admit by his subtle admission of attraction. She'd assumed women left him cold. At least until she'd witnessed his infatuated behavior with the queen.

She let her gaze rove over him with inappropriate appraisal. Taking in the bottomless depths of his warm brown eyes and the cleft in his chin. His wild black hair falling in thick curls over his forehead, softening his strong features into an almost boyish charm. Again, she longed to see the undoubtedly virile splendor hidden by his clothing. And his smile.

A reckless impulse grew in her to play with fire, to see how far she could push him. She'd never felt so alive, so aroused, just by sparring with him. Challenging a king. Her body began to thrum. He wanted blunt honesty? So be it.

"They have molded me into a perfect woman, trained for sex. I even like it. Before you put a stop to them, I enjoyed the demonstrations given to instruct us. I especially like performing the only skills I'm allowed to practice due to my chaste status. Kissing. Sucking cock. Tonguing cunt."

The king smiled in sardonic amusement at her intentionally crude language.

"I believe my appetites will not be easily satisfied, nor will my provocative manner be subdued. Since you've decided my fate is marriage, I require someone exceptional to make it worth being shackled to him for the rest of my life. Furthermore, I'm tired of waiting. I want to be touched. To be taken."

She swept another burning glance over him.

"Frankly, My King, you will do nicely."

Years of frustration allowed her to speak to him this way, audacious and demanding. She'd had enough.

"It's a reasonable request, Majesty. One could say it is an obligation you have a duty to fulfill," she added, holding her breath.

The king considered her for a long moment. Straightening up, he casually took her hand and left the room, taking her with him. As they walked through the long corridors of the palace, she felt a hint of trepidation about what she'd done. She had no idea what was going to happen now she'd gotten his attention. Whether she'd gone too far and was about to be punished for it. She hadn't expected it to work.