In the week before their arrival to Pollux, when all the final
scurrying about had reached an unbearable frenzy, the proud King had announced
to his court that his only daughter would be wed to the King of Calidyan's
only son, Lotor. The terrified Princess had thought that things could not
have gotten more frantic before his announcement, but they could.
Her breath caught in her chest as the small passenger ship of
the King settled into its landing pattern. The larger ships, carrying the
Kings troops and provisions, landed in the docking bay at the other end
of the castle. "I hear that the Kings son is quite handsome,"
Romelle's first lady, Danè, whispered into her nervous ears as she
gently straightened the veil that would remain covering her cousins face
and hair until her and Prince Lotor were officially married. She was trying
her best to gently soothe Romelle. She knew of her cousin's affections for
her half-brother Avoc, and that knowledge made her wonder why Romelle had
accepted this information with out complaint.
Upon hearing that Avoc turned and smiled at his younger sister.
Romelle's face remained hidden by the blue silken veil. She welcomed its
presence now, for it hid her tears. "You will make a beautiful bride,"
he uttered. Romelle could see that his fists were clenched so tight that
his knuckles were white with fatigue. Of course, he lied. He had told her
days before that he had no intention of actually letting her marry the beast
that was Zarcon's heir. He assured her that all their dreams would come
true and they would be the ones sitting on the golden throne of Pollux when
all was said and done. "Trust me," he had whispered to her during
one of their stolen moments. "You know I love you
"
Now, she did not dare say a word in response to him, for if she
did her voice would surely break and everyone around would know of her tears.
She trusted her brother and lover Avoc, but a terrible shadow had covered
her since the fateful announcement. Avoc was the most powerful warrior in
their armies, something her father had taken immense pride in, but there
was a darker ambitious side to him. For years, he had met secretly behind
their father's back with a small band of rebels. They talked and planned
ways to take Cova from power and put Avoc in his place, but their words
never became actions. Romelle had never really taken any heed of them; to
her they were just a crowd of over intelligent people who were all words.
But it made her bother feel special, and that was all that mattered.
But, the announcement that the King had plans on handing his
planet and daughter over to the King of Calidyan sent more than a spark
of protest through their young hearts. It set a fire and their plans were
now to be put in motion. Romelle's nights were plagued with dreams of death
and fear, and though she kept the knowledge to her self, her dreams often
did not lie.
What if something did happen and she would have to spend the
rest of her life as a part of prince Lotor's harem of wives. She knew that
he had wives on many of the planets that were handed over to his empire
peacefully. The women were all Princesses' of the former ruling family and
the arrangement allowed the family to continue their rule. Many of these
women he would only see at the time of the marriage and then never again,
but King Cova had different hopes for his young beauty. From these wives
the Prince must choose his queen.
Romelle cried silently for her beloved brother as he turned to
assume his position beside his father, giving her one last lingering look
of love before he did so. The shadow she had seen increasingly began to
fall over him, but she could do no more than to trust in his words,. What
could she do, she was merely a woman.
The doors from the Kings personal carrier swept open and a dozen
guards filed out to line up down the walkway. The King was a horrible thing
to behold. Seven feet tall, he towered above all his men. His robes, black
with golden and silver trim, did nothing to conceal his size. Romelle tried
to conceal a gasp as the King strode down the platform to greet her father.
Though she had never been off her home planet, she had come in contact with
few of the aliens that visited her father, but the sight of them could never
had prepared her for him.
A young man followed closely behind him. He was quite tall, too.
He stood nearly six and one half feet tall, a hands width between him and
her brother and nearly a full head between him and her father. He wore long
hair, which was ironically the color of the purest white satin and looked
equally as soft to touch. His dress was slightly different than his fathers,
but no less striking.
Slightly relieved, Romelle knew that this must be Prince Lotor.
She had heard many rumors about the Prince, most of them concerning that
he was a child of rape and his mother was human. She was thankful, as she
felt he must be to, that he resembled his mother. His only claim to his
fathers' heritage was his pale blue coloring and piercing yellow eyes.
She studied the man carefully as he was introduced to her father
and Avoc. He was quite beautiful, maybe even angelic. His mouth seemed to
turn down naturally in a pout, or it could have been his sensuous lower
lip that drew attention. His coloring was set of fiercely by his long white
mane. She watched as his eyes glanced through their entourage finally resting
on her. His gaze was quite disconcerting. She was unsure how something quite
as beautiful as him could be as cruel and heartless as he was described.
When the King Zarcon finished speaking the Prince said,"
This must be the Princess Romelle?"
"Ah, yes, Prince Lotor. My only and most beloved daughter,
Romelle. I know she will make you very happy." He took Romelle's hand
and placed it in the Prince's. Her first instinct was to pull away, Avoc
eyes tore a hole through her soul, but if she did her father would not think
twice of striking her dead. The man had never paid any attention to her
until the announcement of her marriage. He even disregarded her to the point
where he ignored the rumors about her and Avoc.
The Prince bowed and gently kissed her hand after she politely
curtsied to him. "It's my pleasure, Princess Romelle." He looked
up at her from his bowed position, the beginning of a sly grin danced across
his lips. Cova had begun ushering the King and his men into the castle.
Lotor escorted Romelle, by the hand at a distance behind them.
"It is strange," he said. "My father swore to
never touch foot to another planet but his own since he killed the King
of Arus."
"Is that so?" she quietly replied, not sure what he
meant by the comment.
He immediately liked her voice.
The trumpets blared and a shiver of excitement ran through the
crowd. The last of the squabbling animals had been ushered from the arena
and the most dangerous of all animals was brought in - man. Once more Romelle
was thankful for the presence of the heavy veil that covered her face, the
spectacle of the arena was never one she anticipated.
The Prince of Calydian sat at her side as his father and her
own sat to the side of him. The animals were just a warm up, the real show
was to be Avoc. This was King Cova's presentation to King Zarcon. "Now
we shall see some skill!" he announced as the mock combats came to
close and Avoc's opponent was led onto the field.
He was a rather large man with tattooed arms and back and hairy
chest. He was naked except for the thong he wore. King Cova had left the
honors of choosing worthy opponents for his son up to his guests, Zarcon
and Lotor. After boasting how his own son had taken two Ruthsarians at one
time at the young age of 16, Zarcon let the choice of the two men who would
challenge Avoc at the same time fall on Lotor. He took pleasure in it. Though
they were there to employ the strength of this warrior, Avoc, Lotor would
be just as pleased to see him die in the arena and his boasted strength
a mockery.
Avoc entered moments after him. When the men stood at the center
of the arena flames were set ablaze and their platform raised from the ground
a harrowing 15 feet. Not only were the warriors to maintain their fighting
skills, but their balance. Their fighting area was barely large enough four
five large men.
"My dear Romelle, I cannot see a gentle woman such as yourself
visiting the arena often," said Lotor.
"No, my Lord, but you I hear are a very noble fighter. Why
do you deprive yourself from this challenge today?" she asked taking
a small cup of wine from the servant who presented it. Though her guests
were here to help them she would enjoy this day at the arena if maybe his
blood was to be the one spilled. It would solve many problems.
<I> Don't think I didn't try.<I> He thought to himself.
He had wanted to challenge this man himself, but his father would have no
part in it. "Human blood stains my hair." He muttered quietly,
he thought, but the laughter of Romelle's ladies filled his ears. Romelle
had noticed how they hung on every word the Prince had spoken since his
arrival. Maybe one of them could take her place tonight if he was drunk
enough. She knew they would not complain.
Just then King Zarcon turned and glanced at the giggling women
rendering them quiet and terrified. "It has been a long time since
I have heard the laughter of beautiful women," he said watching Danè
as if he could see through her thick dress. She immediately turned pale
as she grasped the side of her seat.
<I> That is no ones fault but your own.<I> thought
his son. He glanced up at the terrified Danè sitting behind them
and whispered into Romelle's veiled ear, "Tell your lady not to worry.
I don't believe my father has had working anatomy for years."
It was her job to protect her ladies and there was no way she
would give any of her women to the King Zarcon! Her face flushed with color.
Avoc had just struck down the second of his challengers and she made it
a point of focus on him.
He too was bare above the waist, though his size was nothing
compared to his challengers. Avoc, though tall, carried his muscle on a
lean form. The first sight of him one would not conclude that he was an
invincible warrior but what he lacked in size he more than made up for in
wit and quickness.
Avoc quickly made lunch of his first two challengers, allowing
his guest, the King, give the thumbs up or down on their lives. The two
men died swiftly before being fed to the triumphant animals. The third challenge
proved to be more of a match for the prince. The third fight seemed to last
for nearly an hour, then the Prince Avoc finally outsmarted his opponent.
The final opponents were now led onto the field. The shock of
seeing their prince as their challenger was visible on both their faces.
"Choose your weapon," hissed Avoc among a volley of curses. He
pulled his long sword while the other men choose weapons of a cruder sort.
The three men fought with rage and exchanged blows to one another
that made even the rowdy crowd wince in pain. The clashing of their weapons
must have been heard on the twin planet of Arus. Lotor had chosen his fighters
with care. While one was the obvious strength, being a large man with a
wild beard and luminous muscles, the other was the speed, his build resembled
that of the princes.
The wild crowd was shouting like mad to drive their Prince on
to yet another slaughter. Soon the sweat pouring from the three men became
blood and their dancing paces became limps. One could not tell who held
the lead in the battle until, quite by accident, the larger man stumbled
and fell upon Avoc's dulled sword.
The Princess was quite disgusted as the dead mans blood splashed
up onto the colored tapestries that hung before and above them. Being the
Royal family they sat closest to the massacre, at least within swords length.
The crowd became even more ferocious as Avoc and the remaining
man dropped their weapons and decided to finish the matter with their bare
hands. It was all Romelle could do to keep from vomiting as her brothers
opponent dealt his final blow minus one arm.
Avoc turned to the crowd triumphant and they went mad. Suddenly,
Lotor jumped from his seat and nearly jumped the balcony. "Lotor, sit!"
growled Zarcon. 'This is not your arena."
"Father, let me challenge him," he begged childishly.
The blood fever had caught him too unfortunately. King Cova fidgeted nervously
in his throne before Zarcon finally demanded that his son return to his
place beside his new bride.
The goings on at the Royal box unbeknownst to him, Avoc made
his bloody way to their end of the arena. In a blessing that his blood wasn't
shed in vain he held his sword up to the shining box, for the first time
the crowds cheering became a dull roar in anticipation. Knowing her place,
Romelle stood and slid one of the rings from her fingers. Leaning over the
balcony she placed the glisting circlet of gold on the tip of his sword.
Once more the crowd went wild.
The day had been a success for their Prince.
"Avoc, what is happening," cried Romelle to her brother.
They were outside the doors to the great hall waiting to be announced for
a sudden feast.
Avoc looked agitated. He glanced down at Romelle a long time
with out speaking. "Father went ahead and married you to him."
She gasped. "What? With out me!"
"You need not be there," he replied making a sarcastic
face at her. "You are his property as we all are. Now you are his,
too."
"You told me that I would not have to go through with this
marriage! That it wouldn't happen!" she began to panic. Her trembling
hands could not be concealed. Avoc took her by the shoulders and led her
around to the other side of the column he leaned against.
"I thought he would wait until after the battle, Romelle.
I did not know he would sign the papers so soon."
"What does this mean?"
"It means our greedy bastard father can't wait to get you
on the throne of Calidyan. He believes if you put on a good enough show
tonight in your wedding bed, you will be on your way," he said this
through clenched teeth and his focus turned inward. "Being his wife
would entitle us to keep rule of this planet through you. And that will
never happen as long as I live," he added. Romelle was stunned, not
at the implications of marriage with Prince Lotor, but her brother's coldness.
"But he will know I'm not a maiden!"
"You can fake it Romelle. Bring a bag of animal blood with
you to your bed tonight. When he is sleeping open it on the sheets and roll
in it. Every stupid farm girl knows that trick!" he whispered fiercely.
The anger in his eyes frightened her and made her slightly angry herself.
"How can you say that to me!" she spat. "You vowed
to protect me and - "
"Some things must be done for the good of the planet."
He replied grasping her wrist violently. "This is one of those things.
I see no harm in you giving up one night of your life for everyone's good.
The politics of the matter is no concern of yours, you do as you are told
and remember that father has your best interests in mind."
"You can't really believe that," she gasped.
"What I believe doesn't matter anymore," he said taking
his eyes off of her and glancing around the room. "It will just be
one night Romelle
" But, she had pulled away from him and joined
her women.
***CUT THIS OUT MAYBE**** FROM HERE****
They entered the large dining hall formally, the King quickly
took his daughters arms and led her to head of the large table. They dined
in an elaborate private room large enough for the family, their guests,
and the important members of the Pollixian council.
Without speaking one word to her, the King lifted his dismayed
daughters hand high in the air and pronounced that she was now betrothed
to the High prince of Calidyan. Romelle's stomach lurched, this was happening
all too quickly. Through her veil she scanned the room for her new husband.
He rose from his chair at the far end of the table.
The men had been at the table for at least an hour prior to Romelle
and her ladies arrival. It was a time reserved only for men, the talk was
deemed unnecessary for women. Why he chose to use the word betrothed was
beyond her. She knew that all the necessary papers had been signed and long
since locked up. The only thing left, which she supposed would make the
whole ordeal official, was the exchange of nectar and the consummation of
their political marriage that would be proved by her bloodied wedding bed
sheets.
The dinner went without incident. The Prince showed a polite
interest in his new bride, but was hardly distressed to find her short and
unresponsive. After the meal she was ushered out before anyone else to change
into her gown for the nights festivities. The men had not yet begun to tire
of their talks on war and strategy and she found her dismissal quite a relief.
She had heard just about all she would ever want to about the planet Arus
and its young ruler. The Prince had even spoken fondly of his sworn enemy
and if she hadn't known better she would have thought there was more to
it.
Romelle let her ladies bathe her and massage her with the richly
scented oils the Prince had given to her as a gift. Their smells were strong
and slightly intoxicating, but welcome none the less. The princess felt
that if she held her tears she might burst so she led them fall freely in
front of her friends. They looked at one another nervously as they soaked
her hands and the scented oils and brushed her hair out till it shined with
a golden sheen.
Then her dress arrived.
"Romelle, you're stunning," gasped Danè. The
dress, another gift from the Prince along with a chest of jewels, was made
of a foreign material. It was nacreous in color and as soft as a cloud to
the touch. Two dainty straps over her shoulders held it in place and cascaded
into soft folds of material that rested on her buttocks. Her entire flawless
back lay exposed as did her ivory shoulders. Thought the material hung loosely,
it clung to her curvaceous figure when she moved and flared out at the waist.
She couldn't help but smile a bit as the matching robe was placed over her
shoulders. It was embroidered with the smallest of gems and silver thread
woven designs.
All her ladies held their hands clasped to their chests as if
looking at a cooing infant for the first time. But she would not allow them
to pale in comparison. The Princess of Pollux had long ago decided that
she would only surround herself with people and things she found beautiful,
so she dressed her women in the finest clothing and gave them jewels almost
immaculate as her own.
The Royal Fiduciary soon entered and inspected the girls. The
woman was of no consequence to Romelle, she had only been given the position
by her father because she was his mistress. Being of peasant blood the best
she could hope for was a position in the household. She held out a velveteen
box to the Princess after she declared that she was presentable. The girls
gather around as Romelle opened the heavy box that was a gift from her father.
The container concealed a Princess' crown of moonstone. Danè
took the crown from her trembling hands before she was allowed further inspection
and ordered the other girls to put the veil in place. The crown was placed
gently on top of the veil as each of the women praised her beauty.
"Well ladies, let us go break some hearts," said Danè
in mock elegance in hopes of slightly lightening the sullen spirits of her
Princess.
Lotor sat quietly in his place at the long table peering out
at the small crowd that gathered to witness the exchange of vows. Hundreds
of flickering candles lighted the small room, making disturbing patterns
dance across the stone walls. Though the room contained fifteen or so people
their sounds did not ring in his ears nor did their bodies register in his
mind. An unsettled feeling slowly twisted in his gut. Nothing was right
here, Cova was all too greedy to hand his planet over to his father's empire
while his heir silently seethed.
The plans for the attack on Arus the next day spun through his
mind strenuously while he contrived one of his own. Zarcon had demanded
that they take no prisoners, everyone was to be terminated on sight. The
statement sent Lotor into a panic. "You told me I could have Allura
for myself!" he roared. "Do you think that I would let you hand
my empire over to that whore!." his father responded. "Or perhaps,
we should take her alive so she can be Romelle's plaything," Cova interjected.
Getting Allura from the castle before the attack was his only
concern. If she were killed, or even harmed
He left the thought as Romelle entered the room on her brother's
arm. Duty told him he must rise to greet her, though the formalities of
the event were of no interest to him, and he simply watched as her Bandor
led her across the small hall. So this is the woman my father wishes to
be the next Queen of his empire?
Lotor quickly drank a goblet of the fine Polluxian wine he had
been offered and rose to greet Romelle. As she stood before him he noticed
how the gauzy material of her dress clung to her rounded hips. If her face
matched the magnificence of her body he would be pleased.
"My Lord," she said curtsying to the Prince. Ringlets
of blonde hair spilled from beneath her veil and he imagined they were there
to torture him.
As he led Romelle to the small platform where her father awaited
the couple his mind still focused on how to get Allura out of the castle
before their devastating attack. He could appeal to her honest side and
just tell her that there was to be a massive attack and the only way she
would live was to go with him, but he knew that would be useless. She would
choose to defend her home, and that was exactly what he loved about her.
The only way was to take Allura by force. He would have to leave before
the rest of the fleet and take her forcibly, perhaps early in the morning
while she tended her garden. She would be angry at first, but after wards
she would thank him for his foresight at saving her life.
He loved her more than he cared to admit; and though she was
constantly telling him how appalling and demon-like he was, he knew she
loved him too. He would be her protector! He would be acclaimed for saving
the life of his precious Princess. Because she was not of his world, because
she was innocent and young, obstinate, ardent and defenseless, how could
he be otherwise?
Lotor was taken from his thoughts once more as the King of Pollux
began to speak. The space in which the Royal Banner of Pollux hung was now
shared by the purple and yellow banner of the Drule Empire. The two stood
beneath the banners as the King said a few prayers for the men being sent
to fight tomorrow.
There was little enough ceremony to the marriage. After a few
brief words, Cova drew the shining sword at his belt and held it between
the couple as two servants came to stand at Romelle's side. Cova's drawn
sword scratched across Romelle's chest and then was handed to the Prince
as a symbol that she had passed from her fathers rule to that of her husbands.
Lotor took the sword and promised to protect Romelle and 'her' kingdom to
the best of his ability.
One of the women who had joined Romelle on the dais slowly began
to lift her veil. Her rounded lips were the first thing he saw. Voluminous
lips that were painted with the slightest pink, for they held a sanguine
intensity of their own. Her nose was thin and dainty, but when he looked
in the eyes he gasped.
It was as if he looked into the mirror of his heart.
The deep blue eyes, the pouting lips, the fine arched brows.
Every detail of this face was burned into his soul for all eternity. Even
the delicate flesh that covered the smooth line of her neck, the very neck
he once tried to snap with his bare hands. The neck he imagined his razor
dagger slipping into like the warmest honey. The neck he thought he would
find the most pleasure in breaking before he had fallen fatally in love
with it.
The new bride frowned up at her prince. The action brought him
from his reverie. "Will you take it?" she whispered having lost
all color in her face. It was then that the Prince noticed she was holding
out to him the white veil smeared with the few drops of blood that seethed
from the scratch at her chest. She looked near panic.
The Prince started, realizing she must have offered this to him
more than once and he had inadvertently ignored her. He took the stained
veil from her hands brushing his fingers across hers. Her skin was as soft
as he anticipated it to be. Her coloring returned to normal and the room
seemed to breathe once more as he stuffed the cloth into a pocket beneath
his cape.
"You're very beautiful," he quietly muttered, still
breathless, as Romelle blushed and uncomfortably tilted her head from him.
The other woman came to stand between them holding a heavy chalice.
"A shared drink to seal the vows," the King suggested.
The woman lifted the glass to Lotor's lips first. The thick liquid stung
as it slipped down the handsome Prince's throat. Immediately, he could feel
its warmth spread throughout his body down to the very reaches of his fingertips.
At once he though it was poison, but the goblet was raised to Romelle's
lips. Would a father murder his own daughter?
Her nose wrinkled and eyes squinted at the sour taste, but she
quickly regained her composure. The crowd cheered as the two turned to face
them. Lotor could not take his eyes off Romelle. A small exchange of gifts
took place quickly and the crowd left the room to join others in a great
hall where music filled the air and the stench of food joined it.
Cova seemed overjoyed at the fact that the young Prince would
let nothing distract him from his new bride. "My son has always had
a weakness for a pretty face," Zarcon told him. How true it was! Lotor
doted over Romelle. He held her golden goblet for her, the one that was
unknowingly filled with aphrodisiac placed there by the conniving King,
and even raised it to her waiting lips when she was thirsty. Cova had supplied
the pair with the erotic liquid in hopes of easing his daughter's fears
of the night to come. The prince was supplied with some too for added protection,
though Cova had heard of the young mans strong libido. If Romelle pleased
Lotor that night then her chance of becoming Queen of Calydian was even
higher.
The pair danced and even shared a plate of food. Romelle, Cova
noted, seemed happy. In fact, she was over come with joy and something else.
A fire burned deep within her stomach. Every time her hand brushed across
the hardness of the Prince's chest the sparks rose higher and higher until
her brain seemed ablaze. Even the scent of the beautiful Prince made her
heart race.
Once, the dark prince leaned in to her, grasping the back of
her head and whispered, "Let me taste you, beautiful Romelle."
His lips lingered near her tender ear and his damp breath there made her
dizzy. Grasping a white handful of hair, she allowed her head to fall back
in to his strong hand. His lips remained on her ear for one moment before
they slowly began to caress her cheek. One hand moved through her curling
blonde locks and down her smooth bare back to her bottom. Gently, he pulled
her soft body into his hard male flesh. She gasped at the hardness between
his legs, and even tried to pull away in a small moment of anxiety, but
his open mouth claimed hers. She arched her back as his hands molded her
against him and his soft tongue tasted of her.
The kiss was brief, but left Romelle wanting for more. No one
had ever made her feel this way. Avoc she loved, but he was never gentle
with her. He never showed her any emotion in their love play. She was glad
that he spent his night with the Prince's witch in preparation for the next
night's battle.
The couple danced through the grand ballroom until Romelle fainted
tiredly into her Prince's arms. "I think my bride is ready for our
bed," he announced to her ladies. He rubbed his fingers up and down
her spine, for her cape had long ago fallen from her shoulders and gathered
at her elbows. Her head nuzzled into the crook of his neck and her hands
grasped the thick jacket he wore.
He took his hand from her spine and brushed it between them,
up her belly and between her breast to her chin. "I'll come to you
shortly," he whispered to her before placing a gentle kiss on her soft
lips.