In other words he looked a worthy lover, and John’s hackles rose, figuratively speaking. He was tempted to remove his spectacles and stare at the man.
“I sent you a gift of clothes, did I not?”
John grasped Po’s elbow, halting her. “You did and we… I thank you, lord.”
Shade had informed them it was customary to address the prince as lord. The servant at the doorway had said the same, testily, after he’d asked John to remove his spectacles and had been refused.
“Good!” Prince Drake clapped his hands together, twisting them one against the another. “Then you must make sure your slave girl wears it properly. She will remove that extra revolting garment before she sits. I wish to see more of her than this.
“What use is the hole at the back if one then conceals the slave’s pretty ass?” Flourishing his open hand, he’d included the whole table in his question, and the other men roared with laughter, before turning to stare at John and Po.
A lecherous and perhaps clever prince.
He suspected her of being the princess. Did he wish to embarrass her?
Perhaps to set her up for something in future if his suspicions were confirmed? This banquet was as tricky as crossing a river on the heads of crocodiles.
How far would the prince go?
Truthfully, he also rather desired seeing her ass. “You will strip off the pants, girl. Now.”
Po’s mouth writhed, and he leaned down and whispered to her ear while clasping her shoulder. “Do not speak. You will obey. Or else I will have to punish you.”
Her cheeks flushed an instant red.
Her reaction provoked some awful and lustful ideas. He knew how she’d reacted to him doing things to her in private. Was it possible this also aroused her? Being exposed in public, being made to obey him? He thought her likely to cut down anyone else who dared to so exhibit her, on the spot, with a borrowed scimitar.
That pleased him.
After studying her a moment longer, he turned to the prince. “She will do this, lord, or I will make her then spank her bottom red.”
The men laughed again, and a few clapped. Slave girls were likely everywhere in this prince’s retinue, but Po was entertaining. Most other slaves would be accustomed to being ravished and stripped in company. Her blush and reluctance betrayed her and told them volumes about her innocence.
Virginity would still be captivating to men used to easy conquests.
After the smallest of huffs, Po began to shimmy the pants down her legs. As she stepped out of them then unwrapped them from her ankles, hopping a little as the cloth tangled, glimpses of skin were revealed to those at the table.
Seen as she was—bent over with the dress slipping up and down her behind, it was clear the silk panties rode extremely low. The carefully designed hole in the dress bared most of her ass.
Then she tripped, and John had to steady her.
The bearded man sitting to his right asked, “Is she a virgin?”
“Excuse me?” He skewered the man with a baleful look.
“No offence was intended, sir, but I would happily pay for a night with this one.”
John decided a grunt and a shake of his head would suffice as the answer. The man gave a little tilt of his head then shrugged.
“I find it rarely hurts to ask.”
Except when it gets you killed. John counted to about thirty while Po was settled on her pillow then he too sat and eyed the platters. Hunger re-established itself. The supper went by slowly, partly because he was forever watching Po for mistakes, and the others for threats. Getting her to pretend to care for his needs was nearly impossible, and laughable.
He wasn’t sure what the aim was of this meal.
Not until near the end.
The prince made an announcement, and he turned to hear the last of it.
“Each night of our journey to the city of Taritolla, I wish to have a game! Something that will delight us all.” A murmur of appreciation broke out then subsided. This was ominous, because the prince was favoring him and Po with an intense glance every few words.
“Tonight! I will choose a card and each card here…” He indicated a box held low by a servant so he could reach inside. “Represents a seat at the table where a master has a slave girl beside him. There are four of you.” He beamed at them. “Whoever I choose must do whatever is on a second card I will draw.”
Then he reached into the box and pulled out one card.
Po hissed through her teeth and he reached to take her nearest hand, squeezing it. She understood where this was headed.
“I choose!” He brandished the card, grinning. “John and his slave!”
Cold washed through John, but so did the heat of killing fire. Suppress. Count…
He’d reached twenty when Prince Drake began to announce the chosen game.
“You must… wait, wait, I am the prince I can do what I want, yes?” He held up his arms and everyone agreed, loudly. “Then I choose what you all would love to see!”
“Hell,” John muttered.
“Sirs, Birka and Sam, get one of your girls to lie on her back on the table. Clear the dishes there! Clear the table. Then once she lies, let the other one do what comes naturally.”
He heard Po give a sigh. “We are spared,” she whispered, leaning up against him.
Not quite. Not yet. He grunted back. “Shhh.”
The two women were already at each other. Legs spread, the fair-haired one who lay
