“Wait,” I whispered, eyes flicking behind my closed lids.
My mind had gone back to the night before. Jucai had stayed with me throughout the night despite a lack of sex. He had brought me new clothes in the morning, excited to see me in them. When I turned down his erotic gift vehemently, he didn't throw a fit. He asked me why I didn't want it. And he listened. When we discussed it, Jucai had agreed to try things my way. Had he done all of that just to manipulate me into behaving like a slave? Maybe not.
Jucai hadn't asked me to pleasure him, and I hadn't behaved like one of his slaves. I'd gone to my knees for our mutual delight, not to worship him. I'd done it to tease him into my way of thinking. And it had worked. Considering that, his sudden retreat made sense.
He had scared himself.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered. And then I smirked. “Maybe I'm winning after all.”
Jucai had indeed manipulated me, but not in the way I originally thought. He'd made me unsure, made me question myself and my power over men. But hadn't I done the same to him? And hadn't he given up more than I? What had he won from me? A public hand-job? Me on my knees, sucking his cock? So what? The hand-job made him look weak, not me. And as for the oral sex? Who hasn't gotten down on their knees to pleasure their lover? I'd done it a thousand times before. It only bothered me with Jucai because of his slaves. And maybe, because of them, I was more defensive around him than I'd been with past lovers.
“Gods damn it!” I raised my head and opened my eyes. “I'm so deep in this game that I can't tell who's winning.”
The sound of footsteps brought me to my feet. Round four was about to begin. Or was it three? Either way, the game was starting anew; the score wiped clean. It was time to face my opponent. If only I knew whether I wanted to continue the fight or concede the game.
I headed up the path toward the sound of footsteps. Rounding a corner, I put on a welcoming expression. But it wasn't Jucai who approached.
“Master, the King requests you join him in the throne room,” Bantar said.
“The throne room?” Then I frowned. “What did I say about using that word?”
“Sorry.” Bantar grimaced. “But it's urgent. The King is in a meeting and wants you there. Your guards are waiting for you outside. I wouldn't let them enter the King's garden.”
“A meeting?” I hurried out of the garden, Bantar bringing up the rear. Around the garden curves I went until I entered the corridor.
My knights nodded to me in greeting, but I didn't stop for them. I knew my way to the throne room from there. All I had to do was backtrack the route Jucai had brought me. As I ran, my guards rushed after me.
“Should I attend you?” Bantar hurried to catch up to me.
“No, go about your day, Bantar.”
“Yes, uh . . . thank you.”
When I got to the door Jucai had brought me through, I found it locked. “Damn it all!”
It must have been the King's private entrance. I hurried down the corridor and took a left. After another left, I saw two Gashi men guarding a familiar door. That was where I had entered the throne room with my escort.
At the door of the throne room, I paused and nodded at the guards. Their presence was odd to me. On land, Dragon Kings were guarded by a group of Dragon knights called the King's Guard. Every king had a King's Guard sworn to protect him. They would die for their king. No one else could be trusted with the King's safety. So, be it the throne room or the royal apartments, the men guarding the King were Dragons. Always. But here, the Sea Dragons lazed about, eating and fucking all day. Were there working Sea Dragons? Knights? How did they get their wealth? Was it only from rent paid by their citizens?
Those questions got shoved aside as I entered the vast throne room. As I hurried across the midnight floor, I motioned my guards to take posts near the door. Across the room, the King sat atop his blue crystal throne, perched on the dais, with the curving wall of the inner sea shaft behind him. Standing before the dais were several Neraky men. They looked like pirates, but all Neraky, even the ones who weren't criminals, had that look about them. They all favored the style of clothing that functioned well on ships—loose pants in a breathable fabric, wide-sleeved tunics to allow for movement, swords hanging from thick belts to defend themselves, and broad-brimmed hats to block out the sun. With clawed fingers hooked into their belts, the Neraky men stood as if still on deck—legs wide apart and hips cocked. One stood apart from the rest, a foot away from the dais steps, and it was he who spoke with the King.
“—wore the Ilshi crest, Sire,” the Neraky man was saying. He stopped when I approached and looked me over. “Who might you be?”
“I am Lord Nadar Damra of the Zaru Dread, here as a diplomat to the Court of Ilshi.”
“Zaru!” The man looked sharply at King Jucai.
Jucai waved me up to the dais as he said, “I asked Lord Nadar to join us. I trust him, and this concerns his dread.”
“What concerns my dread?” I climbed the stairs and stood beside Jucai.
“Trade ships from Zaru have been going missing. One of them showed up in Erimbar's port late last night. A few survivors were aboard. They say they were attacked by Sea Dragons wearing the Ilshi crest.”
“What?” I looked from him to the Neraky. “Are these the survivors?”
“No, this is Captain Lu-tsa and his crew. He keeps me apprised of events on the surface.”
“Word is spreading fast that Ilshi is not to be trusted,” Captain Lu-tsa said, the nictitating membranes over his eyes blinking before his eyelids did. “If you don't act fast, Your Majesty, the land kingdoms will refuse to trade with you and may even attack out of revenge.”
