Fantasyland 02 The Golden Dynasty by Kristen Ashley Read Free Book Online Page B

awful
night. They were standing in a huddle just inside the flap to the
tent.
    They looked more than anxious.
    They looked freaking scared.
    Then I looked back into her eyes.
    Then I whispered, “What’s your name?”
    “Diandra, my queen.”
    “All right, Diandra,” I said softly, making
my decision, “let me get up. I’ve got some people who need to see
me.”
    Diandra kept hold of my eyes for a long
moment before, slowly, she smiled.
     
     

Chapter Five
    Getting A Few Things Straight
     
    I sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed
waiting for my king to come home.
    I had spent most of the day with
Diandra.
    That morning, I had gotten out of bed and
Diandra had called for my robe, or my lornya, as they called it. It
was long, had slits up the side, was sleeveless and was made of the
finest light blue silk I’d ever seen.
    While I ate (creamy yogurt, sweet dried
fruit and some kind of grain all mixed together, it was actually
quite tasty) and drank coffee (the only good thing so far, the
savages had coffee, though the milk they had to put in it tasted
slightly tangy), Diandra chatted to me about Seerim, her three sons
(all, she bragged openly, in training to be warriors, her first,
she bragged scarily, had already made his “first kill”) and her one
daughter (“He would deny it, he is proud of his warrior sons, but
Sheena is Seerim’s favorite,” she said), my women (I refused to
call them slaves) carted in a big, oval copper tub with one side
swayed back and filled it with buckets of steaming water. Then they
poured some milky substance in it, some oil, swirled it around and
dropped flower petals on top.
    After I was finished eating, three of them
guided me to the warm, fragrant bath and Diandra went to some
trunks in the corner with the dark skinned woman (Teetru was her
name and Diandra confirmed that, since she once had the charge of a
Maroo princess (Maroo being Teetru’s homeland), she therefore had
experience with serving “royalty” and she was their boss of sorts).
I tried to protest but they refused to accept as they bathed me and
washed my hair in a bath that smelled vaguely of spice, vaguely of
musk and not-so-vaguely of orange blossoms.
    I had to admit, it was nice. It was weird,
but it was nice.
    Once bathed, they clothed me in an outfit
Teetru and Diandra chose. A sarong woven with gold thread shot with
white and turquoise blue with a hint of silver. This was attached
to a wide, braided belt of thick turquoise, white and gold threads
with thin gold chains plaited through. My breasts were wrapped in a
turquoise bandeau bikini top. Added to this were gold bands at my
biceps, a necklace that was a fall of intricate gold chains with
tiny, blinking aquamarine stones and chandelier earrings of the
same.
    Best of all, they gave me a pair of
turquoise silk underwear. Actual underwear. They fit snug in the ass and the silk had no give
but I didn’t care. I wanted to do cartwheels because I… had… underwear .
    And, okay, it sucked to admit but there
was no way around it. The outfit was freaking great. Everything about it was amazing. The material, the colors, the
jewels, they freaking rocked.
    And since I had nothing (so far) but coffee
to be happy about, I was not going to berate myself for being happy
about my cool-as-shit clothes.
    I had to hang onto something, didn’t I?
    They sat me down and put eye shadow and kohl
on my eyes and a gooey, tasty stuff tinted pink on my lips. They
also brushed out my hair, dipping their fingers in a clay pot with
more goo and gliding it through my hair, twisting it in long coils
then securing it back from my face with a succession of little gold
pins with aquamarine stones at the end (almost but not quite like
bobby pins) that went from ear, over the top of my head, to
ear.
    Diandra took one look at me when I was done
and smiled with happy approval, stating, “Your king showers great
bounty on you. This is very good.”
    I stared at her.
    Bounty.