Free The Warlord's Concubine by J.E. Keep, M. Keep Page B

her people.
    Mirella smiled, her lips quirked so pleasantly as she observed the
other woman. By rights she should see her as competition, but both
were swollen and both served their god in their own ways. She was as
close to a friend as she could manage in this place, and she accepted
it willingly. She was a damn spot brighter than the Princess, anyway.
Besides, Svella never held it against her that she’d supplanted
her as the God-King’s favourite.
    “Well, then, imagine when your numbers do swell. It’ll
be overkill and then some,” she teased, looking quite excited
for the prospect.
    It was strange. The numbers of the concubines never decreased, but
almost none of them were familiar to Mirella now. Aside from the
Ka’reem guards, she was the only woman allowed to stay on after
it became apparent she was pregnant. The others got their ‘freedom’,
or whatever it was that happened to them once taken away, the moment
they showed signs of pregnancy.
    Mirella was blessed. And the guards had come to accept she was
special as well, albeit begrudgingly in most cases.
    The new women from the city were always the same; beautiful,
young, frightened. Their numbers always restocked, and Mirella had a
hand in each of their deflowerings.
    “I confess,” Svella began, “I was jealous of you
at first. You have the God-King’s eyes,” she made a
symbol over her chest and downcast her eyes at the mention of His
Majesty. “But you serve him better in such manners than I have
or could,” she stated with a sort of professional
understanding. It was all duty for her.
    “You have other things to focus on. I have him, fully and
utterly. We both serve, in our own ways.” Mirella left it
unspoken that her way was better, of course, though no woman could
blame her for thinking it. “But thank you,” she smiled at
the other woman, her eyes scanning over her with a kind reverence.
“He deserves to rule this land.”
    For Svella the notion of the God-King as a man and as an
embodiment of a whole people was a dichotomy integral to her faith,
but something she barely understood. All the same, she nodded and
gave a light smile. They were so different, despite their unifying
cause.
    The moment was interrupted, however, by the sound of great horns
and clamouring feet. There was commotion going on in the courtyard
outside, but the horns and the sound of marching feet were definitely
from the city proper below.
    Svella stood up, “The Seer,” she said, eyes wide, her
voice full of awe and reverence. She’d gleaned little of the
mystical Seer so far, not that the guards didn’t want to talk
about her, they did! But they held her in almost as much reverence as
the God-King himself, and when in a group were always afraid to speak
of her at any length for fear of embarrassment.
    Moving to the tent flap she pulled it open, shameless about her
near nudity. Mirella had not been confined to the tent for some time,
or at least, she didn’t suppose so. Though she had contented
herself with her Master’s will, coming at his whim or staying
otherwise. When everything she could want was provided to her where
she was, she had little reason to wander off.
    She didn’t bother fretting about her outfit—or lack of
one—and simply rose. He had enjoyed her brazenness, but she had
no real understanding if this woman would. She knew it was important
and dared not to disappoint, so her back straightened and she
mustered all the courage she could as she slipped past the tent’s
entrance, standing outside in the glaring natural light. Her body was
on display with her large, pregnant breasts spilling forth from the
two strips of fabric that hid little more than her nipples, the dark
areolas visible.
    No other concubine but her or the guards could have wandered off
like that, but the two went to the walls of the palace courtyard and
climbed the stairs. The few men who were still there moved away,
giving them a wide berth. Though both were obviously