Ruler's Concubine (11 page)

Lysett would steel himself against her gamine appearance, come to terms with his unprecedented reaction to her and do his duty. As Ruler, he could be utterly convincing, and she would concede.

The breeding room was empty, save for a light, floral scent he found himself sniffing eagerly. Where was she? Turning on his heel, he made his way to his concubine’s quarters. Of course, she’d retreated to her sanctuary. His steps faltered. Even as Ruler, he had no right to demand entry—but she might not be aware of that. With a measured pace, he covered the last of the distance and rapped firmly on the closed door. He felt the weight of her guard’s stare upon him but ignored the male.

“Bast, I told you—” Whatever it was she’d told his first servant remained unspoken as the panel slid open and she saw him. Her wide, pretty mouth hung open before she shut it, pursing those full lips as her startlingly blue eyes narrowed.

Lowering his head briefly in greeting and to acknowledge his earlier rudeness, Lysett stepped forward. She backed away, a small figure wearing only a robe made of a clinging material that showcased her curvy body. There was no fear in her demeanor, despite the disparity in their sizes—and rank. He pushed that thought away. Thinking about such things was impractical. Rank meant little anymore, insofar as procreation went. This Celeste Raynor was more than suitable, and if he knew anything, he knew he must take responsibility for the oversight. He could
feel
her warrior influence.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered with anger.

Despite his most recent thoughts of suitability and equality, he was taken aback. As Ruler, others deferred to him. At the same time, he couldn’t deny that her fearless stance drew him. “I have come to speak with you.”

“What? Putting me in my place earlier wasn’t sufficient?”

Taking in a breath through his nose, he remained calm. “I apologize for my reaction, for the way I spoke to you. I was … surprised by your appearance. You were not at all what I expected.”

Celeste crossed her arms and he mourned the loss of observing her breasts heaving with indignation. Though the way they rested on her forearms, the nipples poking against the fabric—he dragged his attention back to the words she was hurling his way.

“And whose fault was that? If you’d taken a few minutes out of your busy schedule you could have met me in person before seeing me for the first time on that … that bed of yours.”

“The breeding pallet is tradition and—”

“And so is spending time with your chosen concubine. I’ve spent weeks learning your customs, both from Bast and your archives. Arranged joinings haven’t been around for decades—longer. I went along with it to honor your tradition, and because it seemed important. To you.”

Desperate to keep up some part of the charade and not reveal anything further, he prevaricated. “You are not a Meridian. I thought it best to revert to the old custom.”

“And did the old custom involve disparaging the concubine?”

Behind the indignation and anger, Lysett detected a great deal of hurt and confusion, no surprise. It sapped his will. “It does not. And I am sorry for my reaction.”

“Maybe choosing a human isn’t a good idea. At least not this human.” The smile she offered was painful to see and he involuntarily reached out to stroke a hand over her hair.

“It isn’t you, Celeste,” he murmured.

With a snort, she shoved his hand away and marched to stand by the window. “I came here in good faith, Ruler. You chose me, not the other way around. If you have issues, then I’m sorry. But you aren’t making it my problem.”

He most definitely had issues. He had essentially lowered a death sentence on his dearest childhood friend and fooled himself into thinking he could have meaningless couplings with an alien concubine. Contrary to his morbid thoughts, he was again sporting an enormous erection brought about by the scent and scantily covered body of the female presently defying him.

“We will take some time to familiarize ourselves with one another. Then we will attempt to further the royal line.” He, who rarely compromised—or apologized—mentally congratulated himself on his calm assertion, and stared at her expectantly.

“We have a saying on Earth, Ruler. Too little too late.” Her hand rose to the necklace around her slender, graceful throat, as he digested her words. “You’ll have to give the next concubine a turn. I’m returning to the Dormitory staging area.”

“You are refusing me?” Astonishment didn’t cover the emotion deluging his body. He had bent considerably and apologized!

“I’ll wait for the next offer. I have someone in mind.”

Battling a ridiculous rush of jealous fury displacing everything else, including his common sense, Lysett somehow kept his temper, but all softer thoughts vanished. He didn’t want to wait for another concubine and he wasn’t to be denied this particular one.

Drawing on the innate power he effortlessly ruled with, he used a quiet but implacable tone. “There is no refusing the royal offer, Celeste Raynor. It is I who refuses. And I find you intrigue me, with your warrior status and spirit. You are virgin and fertile. We will learn one another and you will come to the breeding pallet in due time. And give me sons.”

The shocked expression on her lovely face made him want to drag her close and kiss it away, to show her the impact she had on him. But he never shared his power. He would woo his concubine and overwhelm her with pleasure until she abandoned all thoughts of refusing his contract. She would bear his children and his House would continue. This strange draw he experienced was obviously not returned, but that was for the best. This was an arranged joining and could remain without emotion. He could manage his own with his formidable control and she could quaff the elixir.

Withdrawing, he quietly closed the door, setting the scanner to deny egress without his or Bast’s permission. It was unlikely his concubine would leave his house and slip away. Where would she go that he couldn’t find her? But he would avoid any hint of discord and scandal henceforth.

Chapter Six

It had been a long, sleepless night, one spent alternating between staring at that closed, locked door and tossing in her comfortable bed. Celeste couldn’t put the determination in the Ruler’s voice out of her head. His power had flexed visibly, and taken hers away. All her splendid umbrage, a shield of sorts against the hurt, withered in the face of the fact the man ruled the planet.

What did he even want with her? Her cheeks heated to remember his throbbing erection. His reaction to her spread-eagled nude body wasn’t even real. He’d probably inhaled a bunch of that elixir, too, and was now putting the best face on it. It was more likely that he didn’t want to waste all the time Bast had spent on her—and she
was
a virgin and fertile, as the Ruler had so crudely pointed out. With definite dread, she envisioned a future with a man who would do his duty while she tried to pretend he didn’t excite her.

Even when he was confronting her in this very room, she’d been hard pressed to keep focused on his face and his
edicts
, when the spicy scent he exuded had curled around her other senses. And that robe… He’d been naked under it, and the fabric had slid over slabs of muscle and molded the obvious bulge at his groin. Groaning at her foolishness, she forced herself to get up. She might as well have stayed on Earth and been fooled by Roy Dupuis.

Freshening up, she chose a lightweight, long dress to slip into, over the pretty slips of cloth that Bast called ladies’ underwear. Her wardrobe was now quite different from the one she and the other women had been initially allotted, and she’d be lying to say that she didn’t appreciate it. The clothing and her surroundings were fit for … well, a Ruler’s concubine. Too bad she hadn’t measured up. With a grimace, she braided her hair out of the way and resolved to quit feeling sorry for herself.

At some point, she was going to come face to face with that man again, and there had to be a way to make him see reason and let her go. The tight feeling in her belly had to be hunger. She wasn’t going to give any consideration to bad things happening if she defied him. Too far from home to seek refuge, after all. A strangled giggle slipped past her lips.

“Lady Celeste?” Bast spoke at the door, tapping the panel and disengaging the lock. “Have you risen?”

Crossing to admit him, she noted his continuing pallor and apparent anxiety. Maybe he and his master had spoken and there’d been a change of heart. “Did you come to escort me? Can I go back to the Dormitory?”

“No, Lady. My Master awaits you at the morning meal.”

She didn’t want to see Lysett at the table, let alone break bread—or whatever passed for that here—with him. It smacked of hospitality—and inferred her compliance. “I’d rather eat in my room.”

Bast sighed. “If you won’t accompany me, Master will attend you. Here.”

Clenching her fists did nothing to sooth her ire, and it was pointless to take it out on Bast. Still… “You’ve destroyed my trust, Bast. You took advantage of my unfamiliarity with Meridia and skirted information I should have been given. He tells me I can’t refuse him. What? Did you spend too much time and effort on me or something?”

The smaller man shifted and actually wrung his hands. Wetting his lips, he murmured, “I apologize, Lady Celeste. Sincerely. But he is my Ruler. Our Ruler. He has ruled and you must obey.”

And just like that, Celeste’s spirits sank into her shoes. He’d meant what he said, and her hopeful thoughts this morning died. Despite her efforts, tears glossed her eyes and spilled over. She dashed them away with the heel of her hand but they kept coming. Feeling powerless was conceivably the worst feeling ever. Bast had made things crystal clear—his loyalty was to his master first and foremost.

She had no family, and only a few friends here—not that they could do anything, anyhow. They were all in the process of being matched to males who kowtowed to the man she’d like to avoid. She had no home to speak of because this place was her prison. The deadline voiced by the Ruler last night was obviously the important thing, and if one pudgy Earth female’s sensibilities were offended and her free will suspended, who would care? Better she’d died with her family, because where was her vaunted will to survive now?

“Lady Celeste? I regret I’ve distressed you. But—”

She cut him off, tired of the dance and all the pretending. “Let’s get it done.”

“Pardon?”

“Where are we having the morning meal?”

Bast smiled, relief softening his features and he gestured toward the stairs. “This way. Unless you’d like to freshen up first? Wash away your … tears perhaps?”

Not likely. His Ruler could take her as she came. And he’d never be her Master. Ever. She slipped past Bast and headed for breakfast, ignoring both his outstretched hand and the hurt on his face.

The Ruler lounged in an enormous chair at the head of a long table in what was clearly a dining area. She’d never eaten in the room, taking her meals in the garden or in her quarters. The air was redolent of the scent of various foodstuffs and the surface of the table was covered in dishes. Celeste had lost her appetite, but the man who rose at her entrance looked as though he could consume everything—including her. Her resolve to get things over with faltered.

“Good morn. I hope you slept well.”

Ah, the pleasantries. She forced a faint smile. “Good morning.”

He moved around the table to tug out a chair, and she sank into it, grateful to avoid looking at him.

As he returned to his seat, Bast hustled up to offer her a beverage close to the tea she’d once enjoyed on Earth. The Ruler watched before querying his man’s intent.

“I’ll try it as well. And then you’re excused.”

Bast threw her a glance laced with an apology that she ignored, concentrating on her ‘tea’. The room seethed with silence when he departed, and she fought to keep her breathing even.

“I meant what I said last night, Celeste, though regret how … forceful I likely sounded. I am aware you are upset and also regret your tears. My choice of words was perhaps unfortunate and somewhat insensitive.”

Like saying you planned to get sons from me because I met your criteria?
She tried to think dispassionately and supposed if she had to have sex with someone she hadn’t chosen, the Ruler would be high on the list. She felt she knew him—a little—because of Bast’s education, and he was good-looking and clean. She figured he wouldn’t hurt her too much because she was a valuable commodity, all trained and everything. “Sure.”

He cleared his throat, but she kept her attention on her tea, formulating her words. When he offered several platters of food to choose from, she chose a slice of grain bread and a piece of fruit to pick at and move around her plate. He filled his, and once again things were quiet while they ate.

“There will be times you’ll be expected to attend certain events with me, Celeste.”

She started, her fork clattering against the plate. Looking just past his shoulder, so as not to have to notice his looks, she nodded. “Bast explained. He taught me your customs.”

“So you know what to expect.”

“Yes.”

“While I appreciate the brevity of your speech, you will be required to make appropriate conversation with those invited to such events.”

“Okay.” She went back to crumbling the bread.

The heat of his gaze became tangible and she couldn’t help lifting her own to meet it. Those green eyes were blazing and she flinched.

Instantly, the Ruler blanked his features and stared back impassively. “I understand you are unhappy with me, but we must move past that. I have asked my parents to join us for the evening meal. You should have met them before, but I…”

Celeste desperately wanted to know what he didn’t say.
But I wanted to get you pregnant first? I wanted to see if you were worth it first? I wanted—
Whatever. For a guy who needed kids, he sure wasn’t going about this in the right way. But of course, he was, because who had all the power here?

“If you think there’s a need to meet your parents.”

He stared down his aristocratic nose at her. “My mother will welcome another—that is, she’ll welcome a female into our family. And she will be most helpful when you deliver.”

Right. Sons. “Okay.”

Clearly annoyed with her minimal engagement, he huffed, then pushed back from the table. “I will see you this evening.”

It all became too much. She couldn’t maintain the farce, and was desperate to get it over with. He’d do her. She’d get pregnant then he’d leave her alone until the next time. The coldness of the arrangement made her lips numb, but she spoke up. Better to get it over and done with, rather than fret and lose her mind.

“We should do the breeding pallet thing sooner than later.”

The Ruler froze as he levered to his feet, his big chest hovering over the table edge, his face far too close to her own. The proximity choked the breath from her lungs, and not in a bad way. “Excuse me?”

She blinked and he sank back down. “You’re going to get your own way anyhow, so I think we should get it done.”

“Get it done.”

He was going to make her say it, spell it out. Maybe not a real bright guy either. “Have sex, get me pregnant. I’m fertile right now, apparently, and time’s a-wasting. If I catch right away, you and I won’t have to see one another for a long time.”

****

He’d faced all imaginable adversaries during his rule, and seen things others would never have the fortune—or misfortune—to see. And he’d heard things too, all manner of things. But those words emerging from his concubine’s mouth slew him and he gritted his teeth against an unmeasured response. Part of him simply wanted to take her up on the offer, lift her from her perch on the chair, and carry her off to his rooms, where he’d introduce her to the means of getting her with child.

The cooler part of him, the one that ruled as he carried out his royal duties, warred to gain supremacy and won—marginally. He reined in his oh-so-male lust and need and regarded her dispassionately.

“That time will come, but of my choosing.”

Those huge, azure eyes widened, then became awash with moisture, and her lashes dropped to hide an emotion he didn’t care to decipher. The drooping of her shoulders signaled defeat and it cut him, as did her whispered response. “Okay.”

He was used to the ubiquitous
as you wish, Master
. He’d noted Celeste’s lack of respect in failing to append any of his titles in her conversation, of course, but had let it go in an effort to mend their differences.
Okay
and
as you wish
deferred to his will in much the same way. So why did he feel the loser?

“Celeste, if you would but open yourself to the possibility we will come to know one another and make our … joining more palatable, as well as providing a pleasant environ for my sons, I’m certain it will be for the best.”

“Sure.”

“See you at the evening meal, then. And Celeste? Custom requires you refer to me as Ruler. Or Master.”

“Sure. Ruler.”

His day was full, and he forced the memorized sight of his clearly despondent concubine to the back of his mind while he carried out his political duties. When he wasn’t shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his body reminded him of the way she’d looked on the breeding pallet. And when all the information Bast had shared with such admiration wasn’t popping into his head at inopportune times because he now had an actual person to apply it to.

He missed Bast. No number of assistants could replace his first servant, but his concubine required the man’s support and service. Bast had been influenced by the female as well—the man hadn’t been able to hide his disapproval of the way Lysett had treated her. He hoped Celeste would forgive Bast and consider him her first servant, if not a friend.

His mother was delighted to learn of the meeting with his chosen concubine, though she’d accepted his earlier edict of consummating the relationship first. That time was of his choosing for certain, and it was flowing through his fingers like sand, but his instinct dictated that he wait for his concubine to warm to him and accept her role with grace and not glum acceptance. He could afford a week, perhaps a little better.

In the interim, he would review the reports coming in from his agents on Celeste’s home world. The hints and nuggets of information had been analyzed already by Ashtun and it appeared the evidence was pointing to the heads of one or two of the opposing Houses. The
why
was curious, but not nearly as important as determining
who
, in order to snuff out the risk to his concubine and the others. The damage was already done on Earth, and for that he was sorry. There were still troops there, infiltrating the governments and endeavoring to mitigate the politics toward females, and perhaps there would be more positive social discourse between the planets in the future.

It registered that Meridia had had a great influence on that world’s development, the first fairly benign as the population was left to rebuild. The second … well, that planet was now confronted with the same risk of extinction Meridia faced until infused with the hope of procreation via Earth’s female inhabitants. The universe certainly worked in interesting ways.