The Empress' New Clothes Read online

  Her expensive jewel-encrusted sandals clicking on the black crystal floor, Kyra waved enthusiastically to every guard she encountered en route from the royal bedchamber to the great hall. “Good afternoon!”

  “Peace and prosperity, my High Queen,” a warrior called out. Kyra smiled brightly, then turned to him with a quizzical look on her face. She looked him up and down, realizing there was something familiar about the golden-haired, glowing green-eyed man. “Don’t I know you?”

  “Aye,” the handsome warrior confirmed with a grin. “You sat upon my lap whilst I attended to one of your woman’s berries at the consummation feast.”

  Kyra’s cheeks tinted scarlet. “Oh,” she mumbled, suddenly remembering everything. His name had been Cam. And he possessed a talented tongue. “Cam, isn’t it?”

  He bowed. “At your service, Excellent One.”

  Kyra shook her head gently, bemused. As long as she lived, she doubted she’d ever get used to being called a High Queen, an Empress, or anything else she was referred to as around here. “Wonderful. Can you answer a question for me, Cam?”

  His eyes flicked over her body. “For a certainty.”

  “Am I going crazy or wasn’t this floor red yesterday?”

  Cam squinted as if not understanding, then laughed when reality dawned. “You must have entered your apartments from the south door yesterday, which is led up to by the red crystal. This is the north side, Your Majesty, which is paved of the night.”

  “I see.” Kyra bit her lip.

  “If you would like,” Cam offered cordially, “I could escort you to His Majesty whilst I better explain the lay-out of the palace to you.”

  “That would be wonderful!” Kyra enthused. “I’m supposed to meet him in some room where people can refresh themselves with matpow while waiting for their conveyance to be brought around. Do you know this place?”

  Cam held out his arm, offering it to her. “For a certainty.” As they began strolling down the long corridor, he complimented her on her choice of qi’ka. “’Tis beautiful. And it displays your charms much better than yesterday’s. ‘Tis for a certainty His Majesty will enjoy showing off his nee’ka this day, knowing all will see the rare fire-berry pelt that belongs to him.”

  “Thank-you,” Kyra mumbled, her face coloring again.

  “You are welcome.”

  “So,” she asked, smoothly changing the topic, “which one is the matpow room?”

  “That would be the chamber of gold crystal.”

  Kyra shook her head. “I don’t know how you keep all of them straight.”

  “’Tis more simple than it seems mayhap.” Cam gestured toward the huge great hall as they entered it. Kyra acknowledged the warriors and servants they passed en route with a smile and nod. “This is the heart of the palace and therefore the biggest chamber within it. It is called the great hall, or dining hall, and as you can see, it is fashioned of the same black crystal from which the outside of the palace and the north corridor are made.”

  “Why black?”

  “’Tis the emblem of the Q’an Tal, black.” Cam shrugged dismissively. “Mayhap the great hall was kept black like the palace walls to remind visitors of who it is that rules here, since this is where they will spend the majority of their official time.”

  “That makes sense I suppose.” Kyra squeezed the heavy muscle in Cam’s arm. “So that would mean that the north corridor is fashioned from black crystal because it leads to our apartments, correct?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then why is the south floor red? Why is my bedchamber red?”

  Cam chuckled. “Not much escapes your notice, does it?” At Kyra’s chagrined look, he patted her hand and continued. “First of all, private chambers, even royal ones, are built to suit personal tastes, not to serve as emblems.”

  “So you’re saying my bedroom is red simply because it’s Zor’s favorite color?”

  “Aye.” Cam caught her gaze and winked. “He’s always had a taste for fire-berries.”

  Kyra shook her head and grinned. The warrior reminded her of Dak—brazen as all hell, but too affable to get mad at. “Back to the original question: why is the south floor red?”

  “Because it doesn’t officially lead to your apartments, so ‘tis not officially of Q’an Tal.” At Kyra’s confused look, Cam hastened to explain, “The door you used yesterday, the one on the south side, is actually a secret door that very few know of. If the High King has not yet mentioned it, I’m certain he will before any political guests come calling, that you are not permitted to pass through that door when any but family are present.”

  “Interesting,” Kyra mused. She waved to a friendly topless servant named Leha who had brought up her breakfast this morning. Leha smiled back and waved. “So what else is housed on the south side, other than the secret door?” she asked as they continued their promenade.

  “Mostly guest chambers of high ranking lords, and also a few theaters.”

  “Theaters?”

  “Aye. Many performers trek to Sand City, hoping to entertain the High King.”

  Kyra squeezed Cam’s arm as they continued walking. “How exciting. What kind of performers?”

  “All kinds, I suppose, though most are those gifted in the erotic arts.”

  “Erotic arts?” Kyra jaw dropped open. She shook her head disbelievingly. “What do you mean by that?”

  Cam grinned down at her, then flicked his wrist to summon open a set of heavy double doors. “Women who are well-versed in the bed sport, for a certainty. I remember a performer last year who was able to bring ten warriors to their pleasure at the same time.”

  “Ten?”

  “Aye.”

  “Wow. Talented woman.”

  Cam concurred with a nod to his head. “She will be entertaining here again in three moon-risings, I believe.” He scowled, then mumbled something about unfair practices.

  Kyra raised a fire-berry brow. “Unfair? What do you mean?”

  “Nothing, Your Majesty.” Cam’s face flushed red, indicating he had revealed more than he had meant to.

  Kyra halted, stopping in her tracks. She turned around to face him. “Tell me what you mean.”

  Cam sighed, then shrugged, figuring it unwise to refuse what sounded like a direct order from the High Queen. “’Tis just that when the performers ask for volunteers in the audience, the older, high-ranking warriors always win out.”

  “I don’t understand.” Kyra fluttered her hand between them. “Do you wrestle for the honors of coupling with the performers or something?”

  “I would that I could!” Cam laughed. He shook his head and grinned. “Nay, the younger in rank never get such an opportunity to best them, for if a warrior of higher standing chooses to volunteer, there is naught we can do but accept.”

  “In other words, the young warriors get no couplings and the older warriors get them all?”

  “Precisely.” Cam sighed, clearly agitated. “Older warriors have everything. All of them have at least one Kefa assigned to their apartment, and usually several. Younger warriors who come to Sand City to train under the High King and Emperor get none, unless of course, they come from wealthy stock and were gifted with a few slaves by their parents to bring with them.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Aye. The only bed sport younger warriors get is when we can entice a bound servant to let us sample of her charms.” Cam flushed sheepishly. “I have said too much, Your Majesty.” He motioned toward a door. “Come. This door leads to the east wing, which is where the golden chamber is located.”

  Kyra tapped her chin as she studied a clearly frustrated Cam. The image of a certain busty, gorgeous, sparkling blue enchanted woman with the nickname of the suckler flitted through her mind. She smiled slowly. “We can speak more of the other later. For now, you’re right, we should go.”

  Kyra took Cam’s arm, feeling vastly relieved now that she knew what to do with Muta. And if Zor agreed with her wishes, Cam would be feelin
g much the same way very soon.

  * * * * *

  The open-topped conveyance they took for the tour of Sand City wasn’t Kyra’s personal one, but was the official floating conveyance of the High King. Fashioned of black crystal and embedded with rare jewels, it was a grand display of decadence.

  “I was afraid my cousin Jik was going to want to tour with us,” Zor mused as he cradled Kyra in his lap and nibbled at her neck. “For a certainty, am I glad to have you to myself for a spell.”

  “Mmmm.” Kyra closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of her husband’s lips and teeth grazing at the sensitive spots on her skin. “Me too.”

  “Speaking of alone,” Zor chastised as he flicked his wrist to summon the qi’ka from Kyra’s body, “did I not tell you to be naked always whilst it is but you and I?” He threw her discarded qi’ka into the empty backseat, then resumed his nibbling.

  Kyra sucked in her breath, her nipples hardening. “What if we meet up with other people after we get past that palace perimeter coming up?” she asked breathlessly. “They might see me naked.”

  “So?”

  Her head shot up. “So?”

  “Feeling shy of a sudden, my hearts?” Zor grinned mischievously, kneading Kyra’s sekta pearl buttocks as he studied her face. “After peaking with the Chief Priestess in yon bathing chamber, then again at the joining? After peaking with warriors at the consummation feast—which we won’t speak of. After peaking for Jik and Tia’s pleasure? After—”

  “Okay! Okay!” Kyra slapped a palm over his mouth. He licked it and grinned behind her hand. “But seriously, what will others think if they come upon us while I’m naked?”

  “They will think you a loyal and respectful nee’ka.”

  Kyra frowned. That sounded too much like submissive for her liking.

  Zor grumbled something about primitive first dimensions, able to read her emotions much more clearly now that they had joined. “It doesn’t matter what things were like in your former home. Here, women seek to please their Sacred Mates.”

  Kyra snorted at that. She crossed her arms under her breasts and scowled stubbornly.

  “Oh?” Zor lifted a regal black brow as he reached for one of Kyra’s nipples and rolled it around between thumb and forefinger. “And pleasing me has been so bad?”

  “N-No.” Kyra sucked in her breath. “Not at all.”

  Zor lowered his voice as the open-topped conveyance made its way out of the enchanted palace perimeter. “Then why would you not wish to please me?”

  “I—oh my.” His other hand was now busy stroking between her legs. “I do wish to please you,” she admitted on a gasp.

  “Good girl.” Zor turned Kyra around so that her back was against his chest. Opening his knees to spread her legs wide, he freed his erect shaft and impaled her on it. She cried out, her slick folds wrapping around him, accepting him fully inside of her. Zor resumed his intimate stroking, one hand making lazy circles around her clit while the other played with her nipples, and settled in for a lengthy tour of Sand City.

  Between climaxes, Kyra managed to see a lot and to ask many questions. She was especially impressed with the enchanted dune Zor had said the priestesses and their male slaves resided in. “How many men does Ari own personally?”

  “At last count well over four hundred.”

  Kyra chuckled. “Go Ari go.”

  When the conveyance steered back to return to the palace three hours later, Kyra was sorry to see the tour end. She had had a marvelous time, lying in Zor’s arms, making slow love with him while they tooled around. She knew every day wouldn’t be like this one. He had gently informed her that although he had absented himself from his duties and would continue to do so for a few more days out of respect for her and their new marriage, he would have to personally see to the training of his warriors very soon.

  Kyra had nodded, telling him that she understood.

  After one of Zor’s warriors lifted Kyra up by the waist and deposited her onto the crystal floor of the conveyance launching pad, Zor summoned the qi’ka back onto her body. Taking his nee’ka’s hand, he led her into the palace proper.

  Chapter 15

  Three days later, while Zor was busy outside training his men, Kyra was ambling around the palace depressed, lost in her thoughts, wondering what Geris was doing this very moment, asking herself if her little sister Kara was still alive. Not having Zor hovering around her forty-five hours a Trystonni day was giving Kyra way too much time to ponder all that she’d lost.

  A few minutes later, Kyra happened upon Dak in the great hall. The first thing she noticed about her giant fair-haired brother-in-law was how out of sorts he looked today, not at all his typically cheerful self. Figuring misery loves miserable company, she strolled up to his side and greeted him. “Good morning, Dak.”

  Dak glanced up from his study of the matpow in his goblet and flicked his eyes up and down the length of Kyra’s body. She blushed, knowing that the silver qi’ka she was wearing today was as translucent as saran wrap. “Good morn, sister. You are looking exceptionally lovely today.”

  “Thank-you.” Kyra let out a telling sigh. “I wish I was feeling exceptionally lovely today.”

  “Depressed spirits?”

  “Yes.”

  Dak snorted, gesturing for her to be seated next to him. “Then you have come to the right place.” Summoning an empty goblet from the raised table beside them, he filled it with matpow and placed it before Kyra. “Now, tell me your troubles and I will tell you mine.”

  Kyra smiled. “Sort of like, ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’?”

  Dak wiggled his eyebrows. “I have already seen your charms on display, beautiful Kyra, but would oblige you, of course, should you wish to show me again.”

  “Oh stop it!” She laughed, punching Dak in the arm. He pretended to feel it. Kyra picked up her goblet and saluted him. “To you, for making me smile.”

  Dak inclined his head, then searched her eyes. “What troubles you, sister?”

  Kyra shrugged, sipping leisurely at the goblet filled with glowing turquoise matpow. “I miss my home.” She shook her head, frowning. “No, that’s not true exactly. I miss certain people from my home, but mostly my sister and best friend.”

  “Do you want me to go fetch them for you?”

  Kyra’s eyes brightened. “You could do—”

  “Of course, they could never return once brought here.”

  Her eyes dimmed, shoulders slumping. “I wouldn’t take away their choice as Zor took away mine.”

  Dak scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Do you carry anger toward Zor for claiming you?”

  She considered the question. “Odd, but no, not since we joined.” She took another swallow of drink, then set the goblet down on the table beside them. “It’s strange, but from the first moment I laid eyes on him, even though I was utterly terrified, a part of me always recognized that I was a part of him, that he needed me and I needed him.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Strange, hm?”

  Dak grinned, shaking his head. “First dimension primitive notions of mating must not be very mentally progressed. What you have just described is the same as any nee’ka will tell you she felt upon first laying eyes on her Sacred Mate.”

  “Like…”

  “Two halves of one whole.”

  Kyra nodded slowly. “Yes, two halves of one whole. I feel that way.” Shaking her head, she stood up. She wasn’t ready to deal with the implications of that just yet. “Will you stroll the gardens with me while we talk?”

  “For a certainty.” Rising, Dak took her arm and led Kyra through the great hall. “You should not be in low spirits for leaving that dreary planet, sister. The standard of living here is much superior.”

  “I told you, it’s the people I miss. Remember the woman I was with when Zor took me?”

  “Aye.” Dak grew immediately aroused at the vivid memory. Her long, braided tresses, her rare onyx skin, her—

  “She has
been…” Kyra’s bottom lip began to quiver. “She has been my best friend since I was,”—she blinked her eyes to keep from crying—“a child.” Taking a deep breath, she looked up and smiled unconvincingly at Dak. “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “Do not apologize,” he said softly. Squeezing her hand, Dak asked, “what is the wench’s name?”

  “Geris.”

  “Geris,” he repeated, letting the sound roll around on his tongue. “And what of the comely Geris? Do you think she would not enjoy life on Tryston?”

  Kyra shrugged. “I’m sure she’d come to love it after she got used to it, but that isn’t the point.”

  “Oh?” Dak arched a golden brow as he regarded her. “What is then?”

  “I would want for her to have a choice.”

  Dak summoned open the heavy doors that led out to an atrium filled with plush, exotic plant-life. “And what if I said to you that ‘tis possible this Geris is my Sacred Mate?”

  “Wh-What?” Kyra stumbled, thankful when Dak steadied her. She swung around to confront him, grabbing both of his bulging biceps. “Is she?” she wailed.

  “I do not know,” Dak admitted, “but ‘tis true I harbor all the feelings warriors are said to possess when they meet their Sacred Mates, but are separated from them by wars or other events.”

  Kyra shook her head, her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m depressed!”

  “Oh.” Kyra bit her lip, grinning. “But wouldn’t you have known when you saw her if she was the one?”

  “Under normal circumstances, aye,” Dak explained, “yet were we in a dimension we did not know, facing potential enemies we couldn’t be certain of.” He shrugged, though the gesture was anything but casual. “I was too busy scanning for threats to pay full attention to the comely onyx wench, as now I wish I had.”

  Kyra wasn’t concerned with that. She dug her nails into his arms. “But it’s really possible that Geris is your mate? That she belongs here on Tryston?”