“Then you didn't fuck him?”
“You told me you and your court respected your slaves and never abused them. You lied to me. I don't like being lied to.”
“What?” He looked baffled. “What are you talking about?”
“The reason I don't want to answer your question is that Bantar told me if I didn't use him, the Master of Palace Slaves would punish him.”
Jucai went still. “Punished how?”
“He'd go without dinner.”
“Oh.” His shoulders lowered. “That is not abuse, Nadar. That is a mild punishment. Parents punish their children in much the same way.”
“He shouldn't be punished at all! It wasmychoice, not his.”
“But he was told to seduce you.”
“So you admit you sent him to sway me?”
“I thought if you experienced a bed slave for yourself, you'd understand.”
“And you thought commanding someone to have sex with me would convince me?”
“I didn't simply point and command, Nadar. I asked the Master of Palace Slaves to find a Kaikeyo who'd like to experience sex with a Land Dragon. The volunteer was then commanded to seduce you.”
Commanded to seduce me. No wonder Bantar had disrobed so quickly. It probably didn't take a lot to seduce a Sea Dragon, but I had proved difficult, and he had to resort to spreading his ass cheeks. Ugh!
I took a breath and pushed down all the terrible things I wanted to say to Jucai. Even if what he said was true, I didn't know if the Master of Palace Slaves had followed the King's order to the letter. Bantar had seemed willing, but he'd also worried over his punishment. Was a missed meal enough incentive? It wouldn't have driven me to bed someone I didn't want to. Regardless, Jucai had done it to prove a point. I didn't like that. But a part of being a diplomat was holding your tongue.
“As relieved as I am that you didn’t force Bantar to seduce me, I don't appreciate the manipulation. Please do not send me another bed slave.”
“He is not your bed slave. He is your personal slave.”
I blinked. “What's the difference?”
“He is to attend to all your needs.”
“And suck me off if I want?”
“That is the duty of every slave, be they a palace or bed slave.”
“Wait, you mean to say that even those slaves that serve your food or drive your carriage,” I waved at our driver, “are supposed to pleasure you on command as well?”
“That is what they agree to do when they volunteer to be tributes. They serve the Sea Dragons in my court and any Dragon visitors should I wish it.” He motioned at me. “Their service is encompassing. They fulfill all our needs and desires, and we treasure them for it.”
“Dear Gods,” I whispered. “What if your male slaves aren't gay, or your female slaves are?”
“They announce their sexuality through clothing, and we respect that.”
“Excuse me?”
“For men, it's the pants. Straight men wear pale blue pants. Gay bottoms wear black pants that lace up the back. Gay tops wear black pants that lace up the front. Versatile men wear red pants that lace up the back. Last, bisexual men wear blue pants with a front lacing.”
I gaped at him. The words just wouldn't come.
“Do you want me to repeat it so you know who you may approach?”
“Gods, no!” I drew back from him. “You define them withpants?”
