Ruler's Concubine (10 page)

She would want for nothing, be well taken care of, and ultimately, kept safe. The presenter’s words and those of Bast rattled around in her head. Given her past circumstances, it was a no-brainer, and she couldn’t go home. Her body was up for it, and her mind had accepted it was the best out of all her choices. So it must be her heart throwing up the roadblock, looking for romance, all because of his pictures and the wonderful things his first servant had said about him.

That was nonsense. Just look at the agony love caused a person. Her stupid heart must be masochistic. This was the best deal she’d get and it was time she said something. There was no way she could go through this process again. Humiliation drowned her common sense. She moistened her lips and addressed Lysett, who was busily engaged in a staring contest with Bast.

“I
am
prepared, sir. Sir. Ruler. I won’t give you any trouble.”

His eyes froze through to their depths again and his dark brows drew together. She noted his erection didn’t flag at all, though. He might be annoyed, but it didn’t affect his arousal. The wide head glistened in the well-lit chamber, with his natural lubricant beading at the tiny slit. She had timidly asked if her deflowering couldn’t take place in the dark, but Bast refused, saying that tradition didn’t allow it. Spread eagle as she was, there was little left to the imagination, and she flushed again with embarrassment and no small shame. Lysett was superbly made, muscled and lean, with broad shoulders, long thick legs, and narrow hips. She was … well, she was short, and small and round, now that she’d had enough to eat. So not like the remaining Meridian females on this planet. And certainly not the cream of the crop of the human females either.

“You were not given leave to speak.” 

Celeste didn’t much care for the way he snarled at her, Ruler or not.

She was confined to this weird bed, on display and at his mercy, as per the royal mating ritual on Meridia, according to Bast. Here at Lysett’s sufferance, but valuable, and so surely should be afforded a modicum of respect, even by him! Concubines garnered respect here. There had been nothing in the contract to indicate she remain mute. A small huff of anger and exasperation passed her lips, preparatory to giving him a set down, and Lysett loomed above her.

“You are 
not
 of this planet, Celeste Raynor. You are 
not 
to forget that, or your place. You are here for one thing and one thing only. Do we have this understanding?” Those handsome features were taut with fury and his teeth ground together, making a gritty sound she felt all the way down to her toes.

Holy crap. All that reassurance about her worth was nothing more than drivel. He despised her! He might be willing to join with her in order to bequeath an heir, but he hated her, or at least the idea of her. What else hadn’t Bast told her? What had she missed? She thought because Lysett needed her, he would treat her with courtesy, maybe even affection. Something shriveled in the middle of her chest, curling in on itself, and this time, she was unable to contain the sudden tears welling up from deep inside of her. Stupid heart. Stupid hope. She closed her eyes and retreated, managing a tiny nod. 
Get it over with.

“Master.” Bast’s reproachful voice danced on the edge of her consciousness as she found a place to hide, deep within herself.

“Enough. We will try this again tomorrow. Ensure she is prepared, or face the consequences. I require an heir in one year’s time, or at the very least, evidence a child is developing in her body.”

“I understand.”

When she dared to crack her eyelids again, Lysett was gone. Bast pressed down here and there on the bed, and it released her. He drew a robe over her for modesty as she scrambled free, mortified she’d been naked in front of him now the elixir had worn off. He scurried about, gathering up the Ruler’s discarded clothing and avoided making eye contact.

“Your master is an ass.” At the man’s gasp, Celeste wanted to call her comment back. Maybe they really did cut off people’s heads here for calling the Ruler names.

She decided she didn’t care. Bast had maybe fed her a load of hog slop for reasons she didn’t comprehend—and she didn’t much care about learning those either. She found refuge in anger.

“Lady Celeste—”

“I hope the Ruler has a couple of back up concubines, because if he treats all women the way he treated me…” She tied the robe with jerky motions, tugging at the fabric in an attempt to bleed off her anger. The jerk probably
had
back up. She wasn’t feeling rejected or humiliated. Absolutely not. What she was experiencing was rage, and that man could just go and find somebody else to beget his heirs on. Jackass. Tears burned at the back of her eyes but damned if she’d let them fall.

Bast blanched, clutching the bundle of clothes to his chest. Okay, maybe she was feeling a little humiliated. He’d been in the room while his master had dismissed her like moldy cheese
and
he’d seen her naked. She was done with Meridia’s customs.

“If you only give me a moment. My Master has … that is, he has certain responsibilities and—”

“I didn’t sign up for this. I could have stayed back home and let Roy Dupuis treat me like crap.”

“I don’t know who this Roy Doo-pwee is, that you speak of, Lady Celeste, but rest assured the Ruler will not tolerate… I mean to say…”

Where was the sanguine mentor from the past weeks? Her teacher and almost friend? Lysett had clearly upset Bast as well. Unless Bast had held things back from her. Celeste shut her eyes, playing back the conversation while she’d lay spread out like a sacrifice. Of course, he had. Definite hog slop. The Ruler had issues all right, and no amount of preparation would suffice. She shoved the ridiculous hero worship she’d been cultivating to the back of her mind. All of the Ruler’s accomplishments, especially his fair and equitable means of governing, had been touted, including his treatment of those less-fortunate species, and she’d built an exemplary male in her mind. No one was that perfect. She had to swallow the realization she’d made a really bad decision in accepting Meridia’s offer—and to compound it,
this
particular offer—and now she was stuck here.

“I’m not hanging around, Bast. I’ll head back to my room at the Dormitory as soon as you can take me. Or find me an escort.” She’d join the other women who’d refused and had returned to wait for another offer. Surely there were other males who weren’t so nasty.

“Might we continue this discussion in the morning?” Bast looked ill, his pallor marked.

She felt sorry for him, despite that he’d withheld, even misled her. Probably his
Master
was going to take his anger out on the man when he broke the news. “We can, Bast, but only to find a way to tell the Ruler you had nothing to do with my decision.”

“Perhaps a rest will ease your upset, Lady Celeste.”

Uh, no.
But she smiled faintly and hurried for the door, intent on gaining her own quarters. The whisper of her bare feet against the cool floor was the only sound in the grand house, but she cast a glance in the direction of the Ruler’s apartments, knowing she was running yet unable to help herself.

The personal guard assigned to her, Morat, lurked in the shadows, and she studiously avoided looking his way, certain he knew of the debacle that had unfolded down the hall. Her mortification was likely visible.

Quietly closing the door, she stared around her rooms. There was little to pack, so she decided to leave it until morning. The Ruler could keep all the nice things he’d provided. Ah, who was she kidding? Bast had provided them, and thinking otherwise would simply add to the false impression she had of Mister Arrogant Ruler.

She fastened her locket around her neck, her fingers tracing the links of the chain. Janler was a nice man. Maybe they could get to know one another. After all, Shirley had set her sights on the Commander and didn’t want to settle for anyone else. Celeste should look around too. When Bast had approached her, she’d gotten carried away and looked above her station. Her, the Ruler’s concubine? Romanticism, and stupid at that.

If she had to stay on Meridia, the odds were she’d be pressured over and over again to accept an offer, so then Janler was at least a familiar face. They could get to know one another, and maybe they’d click. She stepped to the window and studied the garden below.
Jerk.

****

      Lysett felt like a piece of dergoss shit, the scat of a filthy beast that preyed upon carrion. Better he had struck the little female. He deliberately hadn’t looked at her pictures nor any of the vids Bast provided. He’d insisted Bast explain it was the way of royalty to join in that manner when in truth many Rulers before him enjoyed their chosen’s company prior to the actual act. Keeping his distance to honor Trosan’s memory was the right thing to do, regardless of how badly he felt in that moment.

It was enough to know this Celeste Raynor was biologically compatible, pure, and suitable to bear his sons if the Goddess was kind. His first servant’s description of her personality had lulled him into believing he was to bed a formidable female, a warrior possessed of intelligence and a sense of humor, one with honor. No, it wasn’t Bast’s fault he’d anticipated a tall, lean individual, spare and strong, with plain features that had deterred male interest. Hence, her virgin status because the males on her planet were unintelligent and used their eyes instead of their brains. The fact she had willingly signed the contract in exchange for what he and his planet offered, and hadn’t demurred at not being able to meet him first, was evidence enough for him to do his duty. And he’d liked the idea of her.

Seeing her on the breeding pallet, peering up at him with eyes the color of his world’s largest ocean, above a small bump of a nose and a wide, luscious mouth… A mane of drifting, pale hair across the pillows. All curves and dips and hollows, her round, lush breasts tipped with such pointed, rosy nipples, her tiny, sweet sex furred with golden hair… The life blood had rushed to his cock with such abruptness it left his brain adrift.

He’d ordered the pallet, seeking to incorporate some of the old customs and bring formality to that which had become necessary. And mating lust had nearly swallowed his good sense and made a mockery of his earlier thought to take down a glass of elixir to ensure his performance. Then his concubine had displayed her fear—nay, her terror—of him and what was to transpire. And his guilt did the rest, causing him to react the way he had. Not that it was an excuse.

After losing Trosan, celibacy had been his preferred state, with the exception of self-pleasuring when his bodily needs simply overcame his bruised heart. Gone were the times of having sex for the pleasure, not that he’d had any liaisons after he’d taken Trosan as his concubine. He had owed her his monogamy for what she’d sacrificed. And that little scrap of—what would they call Celeste Raynor? A scrap of humanity? A scrap of Earther? The sight of her, so opposite of his mental picture, had evoked things in him he thought never to feel, unfamiliar yet inescapably arousing. The ensuing guilt was crushing. If it weren’t for the hard fact of requiring evidence of an heir before the end of the year … he hadn’t felt this conflicted
ever
in his long life.

With an impatient hand, he shoved through the entry to his quarters. Trosan’s visage didn’t immediately come to mind as it always did when he entered their apartments. Instead, it was replaced by a heart-shaped face nearly overwhelmed with hurt, wide eyes.
What was this?

He’d turned on the human female and vented his spleen, unable to sort through the cacophony of emotions that had beset him in that chamber. And he’d caused her pain. Not the honorable pain of breaching her virginal barrier, but hurt caused by rejection and intimidation. By humiliation. He might rule this planet, and others throughout the System via his governors, but he was a sad specimen of a male to treat such a small female so.

“Ruler.” Bast hovered outside the doorway. “May we speak?”

His first servant’s arms were full of Lysett’s discarded clothing. He’d been so mindstruck he had returned to his quarters flagrantly nude. Not that it mattered. There were no other females in his household to offend. He gestured the other man inside and dragged a robe around his body. “How is the concubine?”

“
Lady Celeste
is … fine. Perhaps taken aback by your reaction, but I believe she is fine.”

“Not offended then?”
Not crushed?

Bast looked everywhere but at him, shifting the bundle of clothing. “I … sensed … some … animosity. But I’ll endeavor to explain things to her, once she … recovers her equilibrium.”

Animosity? Equilibrium?
“Explain.”

“Master, tonight wasn’t the most optimum experience, granted. Lady Celeste has done her best to prepare to assume her role as your concubine. It was perhaps a trifle—”

“Are you suggesting she has changed her mind?” Something clenched his belly, past the dissolution of his plans.

“No. No … that is, she hasn’t said that precisely.”

Biting off an epithet, Lysett strode past his first servant, his long strides eating up the distance toward the female Bast had chosen for him. Refusal was simply not an option. Besides her sweet and lovely appearance, she possessed admirable attributes, eminently suitable for the Ruler’s concubine, and considerable time had gone into preparing her. He’d done without his first servant because he was assigned to Celeste, given the importance of this match.