beckoning her. Then suddenly she saw light ahead of her. She willed herself toward it, opening her eyes to discover herself in a strange room.
“Ah, my dear, you are with us at last,” an unfamiliar female voice said to her.
Zagiri’s green eyes focused themselves. Turning her head in the direction of the voice, she saw an older woman with ebony-black hair, skin like a gardenia and black eyes rising up from a chair next to the bed where she now lay.
“I am Lady Farah, the mother of the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. You are in my house for your protection.”
“Where is my lord Jonah?” Zagiri asked the woman, attempting to sit up, but falling back when a wave of dizziness overcame her.
“Oh, my child, do not attempt to arise quite yet. You have made a great journey, and will be weakened by it,” Lady Farah advised. “My son is safe in his own bed in his own home. When you are rested I will take you to Lady Vilia so she may see you are safely with us. It is time for her to release her hold upon life. She has lingered overlong.”
“Do you not like her, lady?” Zagiri asked, having recognized a disapproving tone in Lady Farah’s voice.
“I do not dislike her,” Lady Farah replied. “But the truth is she was never good enough for my son. She was the cast-off wife of the late emperor. She seduced him when she saw he was coming into power. She held on to him by giving him a son. Now you, my child, the daughter of a great ruler, will make my son a perfect wife. You have beauty, and you have breeding. And I will be your friend. Did you know that you have blood kin in Hetar?”
“I never thought of it,” Zagiri responded, “but my mother does have half brothers, doesn’t she?”
Lady Farah smiled toothily. “I am delighted that your mother has not forgotten from whence she sprung. Aye, my dear, you have several uncles and a grandmother in Hetar. Your eldest uncle, Mikhail, sits on the High Council as representative from The Quarter. He is a most educated and respected man who represents the finest that Hetar has to offer. You will meet him soon.”
Zagiri attempted to sit up again, and this time her head swam but briefly, and then quickly cleared. “When can I see Jonah?” she asked.
Lady Farah smiled again. “How eager you are for my son,” she purred approvingly. “You will give him many children. There is where Vilia and I always agreed. Children are most valuable commodities. Here in Hetar trade and wealth are most important. When you are wed to my son your mother will, of course, want to turn over your dower portion to him. As a princess you will surely have a great value. But gracious, I am rattling on like some old woman. Let me have the servants bring you some food and Frine. Then I will take you to meet Lady Vilia.” Lady Farah stood up and hurried from the room.
Wealth was important, Jonah’s mother had said. But would her mother turn over a dower portion to a daughter who had run away, and married a man in defiance of her mother’s wishes? Zagiri was suddenly uncomfortable with the idea that her mother would disown her. What had she done in disobeying? And even if she wanted to return home to Terah how could she? What would happen to her? Would Jonah continue to love her if Lara would not provide a dower? They had never discussed a dower.
Servants came bringing her food, and sweet Frine. Zagiri found her appetite had disappeared. Lady Farah returned, and, seeing the girl picking at the food, chided her gently, and asked if she was well.
“I am excited yet weary,” Zagiri answered her not knowing what else to say. She suspected this woman who was to be her mother-in-law would be more than disappointed if there was no dower portion for a princess of Terah forthcoming.
“Of course you are,” Lady Farah said. “I can but imagine how thrilled you must be to be marrying the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. It is a great honor.”
“He should be equally honored to have a princess of Terah for his wife,” Zagiri said, deciding that she had best be firm with this woman as her mother was firm with Lady Persis. After all, she was no longer a child. She would soon be the First Lady of Hetar, and her rank was certainly higher than this woman’s in any case.
“My son tells me you are a virgin,” Lady Farah said, stung and needing to change the subject so she might regain the upper hand over this girl. “That simply will not do, my child. How can you give him pleasures when you have no idea what pleasures are all about? I shall speak to Jonah, and have you properly broken in before your wedding night. You are seventeen, are you not? I was told Terahn girls were allowed to accept lovers once they turned fourteen.”
“We are allowed to accept lovers if we want them. I never did. I wanted no man until my lord Jonah came into my life,” Zagiri said earnestly.
“Shocking!” Lady Farah said. “And your own mother did not encourage you to take pleasures? I cannot imagine what the Domina was thinking.” She tsked.
“Jonah says he wants to be the only man who knows me,” Zagiri said.
Lady Farah looked aghast but then she laughed. “You have turned my son into a romantic. How quaint. It shall pass, however, with familiarity. Still, I shall suggest to him that you be properly trained in the amatory arts sooner than later. After all, as head of the Pleasure Guild I have a reputation to uphold. I cannot have you boring my son too quickly. Well, let us get you properly dressed. Vilia is waiting.”
Silent serving women brought a selection of gowns, and Lady Farah chose a gown of soft peach color for Zagiri. The girl was dressed. Little matching slippers with gold buckles were fitted on her feet. Her golden curls were brushed out, falling over her shoulders and tumbling down her back. Lady Farah nodded her approval. A peach-colored brocade cloak lined in ivory silk was settled over her shoulders, and Jonah’s mother led the way from the bedchamber down the stairs and into the cobbled courtyard where a large gold litter awaited the women.
Zagiri’s eyes widened at the sight of the bearers. They were the tallest men she had ever seen, and they were all perfectly matched blonds. Their totally naked bodies were bronzed and oiled. The muscles of their arms and backs rippled. Their buttocks were tight. Their groins were shaved smooth, and their manhoods were neatly encased in bejeweled golden tubes of considerable length. Around their thick necks they wore collars fashioned from both gold and silver, and studded with pearls. They were barefoot.
“Get in, my child,” Lady Farah said, gently pushing Zagiri into the litter, which was padded in silk, and filled with cushions. When they were both comfortably ensconced she drew the green silk gauze curtains. “I see you like my bearers. If you like I shall arrange for you to have a similar set. They were frightfully expensive, of course, but then you are to be the First Lady of Hetar. You should have nothing but the best. My lads have other talents, as well. Would you like to try one of them?”
“For what?” Zagiri asked.
“Why, for pleasures, you silly girl!” Lady Farah exclaimed, laughing lightly.
“No, thank you,” Zagiri responded, feeling like a fool. Did everyone on Hetar behave in this fashion? “Tell me about Lady Vilia, please.”
“I don’t know why you want to know about her,” Lady Farah said. “She is my son’s past while you are his future.”
“I was taught kindness, and this woman will die shortly,” Zagiri said. “What harm is there in my knowing about my predecessor?”
Lady Farah shrugged. “She was the second wife of Gaius Prospero, the Master of the Merchants, who afterward
