Free The Prince's Pet by Alexia Wiles

Although I would not have been so brutal.”
    I thought of his promise to use
a whip on me next time I disobeyed. “Oh?”
    “Yes. An honorable man will
never draw the blood of a slave.”
    "What does it matter, if a
slave is just property?" I heard the bitter tone of my own voice, and I
bit my lip. I really had to learn to control my mouth. Why was I determined to
test him, so soon after being punished?
    But he only sighed wearily.
"I do not destroy my valuable possessions either. And a slave is still a
person. I understand the need for discipline, but I despise those who are
unnecessarily cruel."
    Resolved to hold my tongue now,
I chose to say nothing.
    I ran the cloth over his neck
and collarbone, then down lower, making wide slow circles with the soapy water.
I couldn't help admiring his well defined chest, his taut muscles and strong
arms. He practiced with the sword every day to cultivate that physique, and
looked every bit the warrior. I wondered what it was like to watch him in action.
    I signaled for him to sit
forward and poured water over his back. I soaped his back with my hand then
scrubbed with the cloth. The slow rhythmic action continued to calm me, and he
seemed in a better mood. Somewhere in the middle I found the courage to speak
again, choosing a benign subject.
    “My Lord, may I ask you
something?”
    “Hmm?” It was a noncommittal
grunt.
    “How do you speak my language so
well? You are almost natural at it.”
    Some of his tension come back,
his back straightening almost imperceptibly. “I knew someone when I was a
child, who was from your country. My father’s slave.”
    I nodded, saying nothing.
    “She was kind to me." He
continued."And a friend to my mother the queen. It's common for royalty to
keep personal slaves, you see, and the king’s wife has no authority to object.
But with my family, there was never any jealousy between them.”
    I met his eyes, and he was
looking back at me, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “After my
mother died,” he said, “I was glad of her presence for my father’s sake. And
despite constant urging, he wouldn’t take another wife. Not up until his
slave's death years later. I was sure he loved her.”
    I wondered if speaking of it
made him sad. But I was amazed that he was talking openly, and even relaxing in
my presence. He seemed so different to the stern intimidating man that had
punished me earlier. How could he change so quickly between both? Which was his
real nature?
    “A lovely story, my Lord.” I
murmured. “What were their names?”
    “My mother was Queen Aishe.” He
smiled wryly. “A formidable woman, but kind and well-loved. I don’t remember
her very well. She died when I was quite young. The slave was Ysobel.”
    And after her death, I supposed,
had come Indari. A chance to make more sons for the king - to safeguard his
inheritance. But it hadn’t worked out that way. I knew he had sisters, but
there had been no more potential heirs.
    “In our land, our names have
meaning.” I said. “Ysobel means 'promise', I believe.”
    “Oh?” And now a genuine smile
touched his lips. “I didn't know that.” He shifted to look at me. “What does
your name mean?”
    The way he looked at me – his
eyes shining with mirth and warmth – sent a hot wave through my body. I watched
my hands as I wrung out the cloth in the warm water. “It means... life.”
    He smiled again, and I felt the
blush creep back.
    I busied myself with the cloth
again, but I was quickly running out of safe places to wash. Just get it
over with, I told myself. What was I so afraid of? Aside from my master,
that is... and he wants me to bathe him, so that is what I'll have to do.
    I experimentally dipped the
cloth under the waterline, softly scrubbing his stomach. He relaxed back,
letting his head rest back on the edge and sinking a little lower in the water.
It was still warm, and I was hot and felt sticky with steam, moisture beading
on my face. As I