THE KING'S SLAVE BRIDE

DINE WITH THE KING

NA’IMAH

The guards jostled me around as they dragged me from one end of the palace to another. All my questions and protests fell on deaf ears. I didn’t get any answers as to why I was being dragged around and treated like I was an object and not a person.

The guards finally stop in front of a large door, and they share looks with the servants already standing outside the door. They didn’t say a word to each other, but from their demeanor and the way their expressions kept changing, I could tell they were communicating through their mind link. That was one gift these lycans had that I somewhat envied. They can communicate through their minds without having anyone listen in on their conversations. Sadly, being a hybrid meant that was impossible. Hybrids are two-spirited; we all have distinct differences in what our second nature was. My clan was mostly part werewolf, part coyote; we have some other variables in there, but the two dominant spirits in my clan were wolves and coyotes. I, on the other hand, was part werewolf and something my parents never liked me talking about.

“Go in.” They finally ended their conversation, and the guards shoved me towards the servants they had been chatting with.

"What are you..." I barely got a word in before the guards turned to leave, and the servants dragged me into the room.

“Why am I here? What’s all this?” I questioned, taking in the room and the surrounding items.

“You’re getting cleaned and dressed.” One of the servants finally graces me with a response, minutes before the other omega starts tearing at my dress.

“Hey, easy with the way you’re handling that,” I almost yell, slapping her hands away.

“It’s trash. What are you protecting? That dress was minutes away from falling apart anyway,” She hissed, dragging me into the bathroom.

“I don’t care if it’s trash; it is my trash.”

“It won’t matter in a few hours, the king wants to dine with you. You’ll be grateful and lucky if you still have all your limbs attached to you by the time he is done with you,” she sneers, rolling her eyes as I jump back when the cold water hits my body.

“Stay still,” she hisses in a high-pitched voice before basically slapping the washcloth hard against my skin.

“I don’t know why you’re taking your frustration out of me, but I can wash myself.” I try to take the washcloth from her, but she snatches it back.

“The Queen Dowager gave specific instructions, and you’re not about to get me whipped; I must be the one to wash you.”

“If so, then maybe do your job without trying to scrub off my skin.”

“It’s not my fault that you’re dirty,” she scoffs.

I am no fool. I know when someone is being hostile to me for no reason, because I am very certain I have done nothing to this omega to warrant her snide remarks and hostility. “Is there a reason you’re taking out your misery on me? I am not the one who told you to become a servant.”

"Well, at least I am not a slave," she snorts.

“At least I didn’t choose to be a slave; you chose to be here, and you were chosen to attend to this slave. That must hurt, knowing you’re being forced to serve a slave when you came to the palace to serve royalty. I guess I can see where the projection is coming from, but I can assure you, taking out your frustration isn’t going to help your case, not if I decide to tell the Queen Dowager about your hostility.”

She slaps the washcloth against the water in the tub as she rises to her feet. “And you think she’ll believe the words from the mouth of a scum like you?”

I shrugged, getting out of the tub and picked up the robe hanging from the stall. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

She glares at me, probably thinking she could intimidate me into saying I won’t tell the Queen Dowager about her behavior, but I just shrug.

“What am I supposed to wear or am I going to the king like this?” I ask.

I am still trying to wrap my head around whatever the fvck is going on. I haven’t agreed to the Queen Dowager’s demand yet. Somehow, I am suddenly summoned into the king’s bed. Didn’t she say she’d give me time to think about her offer and make a decision? That was yesterday. This shouldn’t be happening, but I don’t even have a way to protest. For some reason, none of this makes sense, but I am going to play along until she shows her face.

The second servant steps into the bathroom with a handful of beauty products, some I have never seen in my life. My clan lived to survive; we didn’t have the time to amass such luxury or the leeway to even dream of wanting such. Moving around a lot meant owning little and keeping only the things that were important.

So, I was slightly shocked when she started going from one routine to the other. Prepping my skin, spritzing my body with different mists of various scents. She was doing too much, in my opinion, but I guess I was merely a circus doll now. By the time it was over, it felt like I had gained extra pounds on my face, and I was literally soaking with different scents that dulled my senses.

Some more minutes of being jostled around, and they finally put me in a dress that seemed too extravagant and unnecessary for whatever was supposed to happen. Despite my annoyance, I couldn’t deny that I have never worn anything this pretty in my life. The fabric was too soft for comfort, and the lilac color of the dress was the perfect blend for my skin. There’s a cut at the back of the dress that plunges downward and stops just above my waistline, and the front of the dress has a V-shaped cut that doesn’t do much to hide my bust. The shoulders are low and the sleeves of the dress have a slit that causes the fabric to flow freely with the wind, leaving most of the skin on my arms exposed.

“Hmm, you look better than I anticipated.” I turned away from the mirror at the sound of the Queen Dowager’s voice.

“Your Highness,” the servant greets her with a bow. She waves to dismiss them before turning to me.

“What’s all this? I haven’t agreed to your demands; you said you would give me time.”

“Yes, I had intended to let you think about it, but my son happened to stop by my palace this afternoon and I mentioned you in passing. He was delighted and wanted to meet you as soon as possible.”

My face contorts in a frown. That can’t be true. “You want me to believe that the King is interested in me—liked your idea of marrying a slave off to him, and he wants to see me?” I ask.

She smiled bashfully, and I could see the dishonesty dripping off the corner of her lips. “He is besotted with you, and he wants to meet you in person and get to know you before anything else. My dear and my son love it when I approve of his bed partners. Come, he is waiting for you,” she says, grabbing my hand.

“Oh, before we go, here, drink this.” She offers a small bottle with liquid.

“What’s this?” I asked, eyeing the bottle with skepticism as I brought it to my nose to get a whiff of the scent, but it smelled like nothing.

"It’s a little something to help smooth out the process of conception," I stared at her as she explained the benefits of what she had just handed me.

“Conceive? I thought I was having dinner with the king. You said he wants to meet me, get to know me, not...” I waved the bottle in the air to emphasize what I meant.

The Queen Dowager makes an exaggerated motion of rolling her eyes. “Come on, don’t be a child, did you really think you were dolled up and made to look this pretty just to have him stare at you all night?”

“What? No, that’s not…”

“Drink the herbal syrup, Na’imah. You are not a child; whatever happens tonight, let it happen. It is for your own good and the good of the people you care about,” she says, smiling as she nudges the bottle towards my mouth, and I just stare at her in complete shock, unable to say a word in retort.