Queen by R.J. Larson

Author:R.J. Larson [Larson, R.J.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Elk Lake Publishing
Published: 2015-05-06T07:00:00+00:00

ChaPteR 24

Serena shivered again as the physician led her into an astonishingly beautiful room that flaunted high, pale columns draped with sheer blue curtains and lavishly carved, gilded tables, curved benches, and footstools. As they walked, Serena’s footsteps were muted by a thick carpet and hampered by a heavy gold band that a female guard had welded about her ankle, marking her as a slave.

A slave…

Serena hugged her thin undergarments to herself for warmth. When would the other slaves bring her actual clothes? Would she meet the king? Not that she wanted to—awful man! No doubt he’d be furious with the Lady Dasarai for defying his order.

However, Dasarai was evidently the ruler of the Women’s Palace.

Surely the king must respect or at least hear her reasons for buying Serena against his wishes.

Clinging to hopes of reason and calm, and following Cythea’s example, Serena knelt on the thick carpet, adjusting her gold-weighted ankle band. Eventually, perhaps if she became a favored slave, the king might at least listen to her and consider sending help to Clan Darom. But if he was truly furious and if Serena caused her own death R. J. Larson

while pleading for her people…

So be it. No matter what, she would beg Belaal’s hostile god-king for his help, even if she ultimately died. Wasn’t this her duty? Any queen of the Eosyths was duty-bound to sacrifice herself, if need be, for the sake of family and clan. Infinite, bless me! Let me gain favor with the king. Let Clan Darom and the Eosyths be rescued in time!

Servants entered the room almost noiselessly, bearing cushions, a low, dark, incredibly carved table, and trays of food, including a pure white cup containing clear pink liquid, which the physician offered to Serena. Trying to compose herself, Serena studied the fragrant roseate drink. One of the prettiest decoctions she’d ever seen. “What’s this?”

The physician, Cythea, smiled thinly. “This is a tisane of flower petals, rose hips, and fruit, prepared by Belaal’s prophet to improve your health and speed the healing of your bruises. You will drink this for several weeks, so the prophet and I hope you enjoy its flavor. Drink the whole cupful.”

That was a command. Serena sipped the brew of rose petals and fruit and waited for the outer robes she presumed would be brought.

Instead, when the servants finally opened the doors, the elegant Lady Dasarai entered the room and settled gracefully onto the largest cushion. When the servants closed the doors again, she studied Serena.

“Your appearance is much improved. Indeed, you are beautiful, even without cosmetics.”

“Thank you, Lady.”

Dasarai shrugged, waved a shimmering fan, and then questioned gently, “Where did you come from? What are your usual habits?”

Courage. Serena set down the remainder of the brewed rose beverage and looked the formidable woman in the eyes. “I’m an Eosyth. From Clan Darom. I—”

252

Queen

A loud thud stopped her. The doors opened and a stunningly handsome man rushed inside, his garments flaring, his smooth-shaven face pale, his black hair mussed, his dark eyes huge.

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