Whispers and Promises (restarted)

"Does everyone always speak of me like this when I am not around?" a voice asked from around the bookshelf. Everyone turned to regard the prince as he came around the corner.

"Your grace!" At once Ithros, Salemar and Amina bowed.

Rath walked up and put a hand on the pagekeeper's shoulder. "Rise, old sage. You are correct. The lady Kyra may read what she pleases. That she is Rhagali will mean nothing unless she chooses it." He glanced at Kyra and then at the other three. "Leave us a moment."

The three servants respectfully bowed their heads and left the room. Once they were gone the prince sighed. "Master Ithros is right, you know." It was the first time Kyra had heard the prince address another by their title. "He taught me to read and write. He taught me the movements of the stars. But as my father's son... much is expected of me."

Kyra jumped at the sound of the prince's voice as it sounded near them unexpectedly. She turned to look at him, forgetting to bow with the rest as she stared at him with wide eyes. She watched his moment with the pagekeeper. Had she said something wrong, she wondered as he dismissed everyone but her. She watched them go, wishing one would stay, but she kept a calm expression on her face as he sighed.

"You told me last night that I was Rhagali now. I am sorry, my prince, but it is hard to think of myself that way considering I have been Dathian my entire life." She commented, knowing that her words might bring harsh punishment in their wake. "I will try hard though, if it pleases you."

She could hear the slight sadness in his voice when he spoke of what was expected of him and she cocked her head to one side, her brow furrowing slightly. "My prince, I do believe what you think is expected of you and what actually is are two very different things."

Rath looked at Kyra and remained silent for a time. "It is difficult to explain. You know no stories of my people. You likely don't know our history." He looked toward the door. "Pagekeeper!"

Ithros and his apprentice came back into the room with Amina hovering by the doorway. "You called, your grace?"

"The lady Kyra can read any book she pleases. But in the afternoons, I want you to teach her our history as you did me. Teach her of the line of Katum. The only way she will understand us is if she knows us."

Ithros bowed low. "As you wish it, your grace."

Rath turned back to Kyra and cupped her cheek in his hand. "There is still much for me to do today. But we will see each other again at sunset. Until then, Master Ithros is the wisest sage in the kingdom. You will learn much from him and you may come here to read or hear his words any time you wish."

For his part, the old sage looked as if he had been handed a crown.

Kyra had expected the prince to be angry with her, but he was silent for a moment before he told her that she simply didn't know his people. She wasn't sure that learning about his people would change the way that she felt about her situation, but she demurely lowered her head as he called Ithros back into the room.

"Yes, my prince." She murmured as he made it know that she would be taught the history of this strange land.

The feeling of a hand pressed against her cheek had Kyra looking back into the prince's eyes, nodding as he told her that he would see her at sunset. Of course, she thought as Master Ithros looked on with a kind of pride that could only come for a learned scholar.

"I will try my best, my prince." She murmured softly.

Rath leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "For today, read the stories of your people." With that he slowly stepped back and departed.

Once he was gone, Ithros stepped forward. "Again, my lady, please do not judge the prince too harshly. King Athmir is beloved by our people and has done much for this land. It is no small task for any son to live up to such a legacy. It weighs heavily on his heart to know that he must either eclipse his father in greatness or forever live in the king's shadow."

"I do not judge anyone, Master Ithros, unless they deserved to be judged." Kyra said softly, watching the prince leave before she looked down in the book cradled against her chest. "And the prince is a man that deserves to be listened to and understood."

She turned to look at Ithros and gave him a slight smile. "If you would be so kind, perhaps you could write me a short history of this land. I learn better if I have something written down."

Ithros nodded and asked his apprentice to fetch a sheaf of parchment and a quill and ink. "Would you like to sit and read while I work?" the old sage asked as he gestured to a set of beautiful couches and chairs in the center of the library.

Meanwhile, the prince stalked through the halls toward the war room. He would need to plan. Taking on the Enshar, even with numerical superiority would be a difficult task to say the least. They fought like madmen. If they were to succeed he would need to find and slay the leader of the revolt. Without their prophet they would crumble quickly.

He convened with his advisors for an hour before his father arrived. "I believe we have a plan," Rath said quickly.

"And what do you have in mind?" the king asked.

"While we wait for the scouts to discover the location of the Enshar prophet, I suggest we set a trap for them."

"To what end?" Athmir responded with a frown.

Rath looked at his advisors but saw no support from them. "Father, weakening their forces would give us an advantage. Lure them to a village that we have hidden our forces in, strike at them, defeat them, and celebrate the citizens who helped make the victory possible. We have to starve the Enshar of anymore new recruits. The people must believe they are stronger."

The king shook his head. "Rath, I understand you are upset. But now is not the time for rash action. We must be patient. Your plan would endanger too many lives."

The prince set his jaw but said nothing. He knew better than to talk back to his father. He looked down at the map of Rhagal on the table before him. Four villages had been marked as destroyed by the Enshar raiders. Four villages burned down and slaughtered. And here he stood behind the palace walls unable to do anything about it. "Excuse me," he muttered and left the room with only a slight bow of his head.

He retreated to his bed chamber. He wanted to be alone for a while. He sat upon the luxurious rugs and pillows by the bed and poured over tomes of military strategy and philosophy, hoping to find some idea or solace, but none came. Midday came and went. The servants brought him a plate of dates and vegetables, which he ate without tasting anything. So it passed with evening as well. He tasted none of the mutton brought to him. By sunset, he sat cross-legged on the rugs with his head in his hands. He was the man who would be king. And yet he couldn't seem to clear his head enough to act like it.

Kyra had no idea where the day had gone, but when she noticed the sun setting, she knew that she was late. She had enjoyed talking with Ithros, learning from him as he worked. She had also spent the day curled on a soft couch, reading the stories that were so familiar to her. Her father had told her many of them when she was a little girl and it was one of her dearest memories.

Her bare feet slapped against the stone floors as she hurried towards the prince's room. She carried her book in her arms along with the pages that Ithros had penned for her to learn from. She dodged people in the halls, panting as she finally opened the thick wooden doors to see the prince already there and waiting.

"My prince." Kyra murmured, catching her breath as she closed the door behind her. "I apologize for being late. I lost track of time in the library."

It was an excuse that would have earned her the harshest of punishments when she was in training. She had hopes that her prince wouldn't be so unkind as the men who had molded her had been. She moved towards his desk, placing her book and papers down before she turned to him to see what needs he had that evening.

Rath looked up at Kyra's entry. There were dark circles under his eyes already and his normally handsome face was etched with distress. "Sit with me." His voice was low and carried a haunted tone.

She did as he asked and he reached a hand up to gently trace the shape of her face, gently caress her neck. "It has been a long day. For both of us perhaps." He took her hand and stood up with her following. The servants had drawn a bath not long ago and the water was still comfortably hot. Soon they both had disrobed and immersed themselves in the water. Rath asked nothing of Kyra. He simply held her in his arms in his lap as the water soothed away the stress of the day.

As Kyra sat in the prince's arms, she wondered about the man that he was. He was haunted and quiet. He was dangerous and mysterious. He was so many things at once, she thought to herself as she tipped her head back to look up into his face.

"Please do not take this the wrong way, but you are a strange man, my prince." She said softly, reaching up a hand to gently trace the angles of his cheeks and lips.

Rath furrowed his brow and looked at Kyra. "Strange how?" He had been called many things in his life. He had been hailed is a hero by the soldiers he fought beside. He had been called a worthy son by his mother. He had been called prince, scion, scholar, warrior, and by his enemies a puppet, a pretender and a would-be tyrant. But no one had ever called him strange before.

Something about Kyra intrigued him. She was demure and yet did not hesitate to approach him before others. She submitted to him with little fight and yet insisted on reading old Dathish books to remember her old home. He wondered what her life had been like before she became a slave. He didn't ask though. To remind her of what she had lost would be cruel, especially as she still seemed to think of herself as a slave on some level.

"Well, you have the weight of the world on your shoulders when you are only a prince. You are quiet most of the time, but you have no problem letting your voice rise when you are passionate. You take great pains to hide your true self from others, but you have an incredibly welcoming and warm side."

Kyra glanced up at him again, noting the incredibly confused expression in his gaze. "In Dathish, you would be called a Tolnar. A man without a path. It isn't a bad thing, my prince. You simply do not know what kind of man to be."

Rath stared at her moment before closing his eyes and breathing a soft sigh. "Perhaps." He reached up and held onto her hand that a moment ago traced the contours of his face. He remembered his vision, but no new answers were forthcoming. "I am expected to choose a path before I succeed my father. But I cannot be the man he is. I must be my own man. I don't yet know how to do that."

They sat together in silence a while before washing the sweat and dust of the day away and climbing into bed. Rath turned to Kyra and kissed her. His hands went to her body caressing her legs and her breasts. His tough was insistent but gentle.

Kyra feared that she had upset the prince in some way as he turned quiet after her comments. As they slipped into bed after their bath, she fretted slightly, knowing that she should have kept her tongue. She expected a punishment to come at any time but she was surprised as the prince turned towards her and kissed her soundly.

A soft moan left her lips as he hands slowly caressed over her legs and then massaged her breasts. His touch was gentle but it was obvious what he wanted from her. She willingly parted her legs for him, inviting him to take what he wanted from her.

Rath slowly rolled on top of Kyra, his hands exploring her body. "You don't need to fear me," he whispered to her. He would have to be a fool not to notice. It frustrated him but he tried to be patient. Only time would prove to her that he was not a cruel master. He wasn't a barbarian. His tongue licked at her lips and he began rubbing his hard shaft up and down the slit of her entrance.

Kyra stared up at Rath as he rolled her onto her back, his heavy body pressing her into the cushions beneath them. His large hands were calloused, rough, but incredibly gentle. She let out a little sigh of pleasure as he whispered that she didn't need to fear him for anything. She would have to work on not showing her worries to him, she thought as his tongue was suddenly licking at her lips and his hard shaft teased her wet folds.

"Oh..." She whispered, her lips parting to let him explore her mouth as her thighs parted just a little more for him.

Rath guided his cock into her body slowly. As he sank deeper into her his hands came to her breasts. His lips moved to kiss her neck while he thumbed her nipples. He pumped into her with a slow but intense pace. He wanted to hear her moaning. Something about her voice burned in his ears and filled his mind in a way he wasn't used to.

Kyra let out a long cry as he sank into her body so slowly yet with an intense purpose. She bucked her hips against his as his lips found their way to her throat and he suckled on the sensitive skin. Then his thumbs were stimulating her hard nipples and Kyra let out an intense cry of pleasure.

"My prince..." She moaned, her eyes closing tightly against the pleasure building inside her body.

His pace increased little by little. Once Kyra had adjusted to him once more, he fucked her hard. Their bodies rubbed against one another smoothly from the sheen of sweat building up. His kisses on her neck turned into bites. Not painful, but a sensual scraping of teeth on skin.

Rath felt an odd mix of feelings. Passion, frustration, pleasure, loss. All the negativity that had built up throughout the day was still present, but it was only background noise as he held this curious Dathish woman in his arms. Part of him thought it was simply because his cock was buried in her. But another part couldn't stop wondering if perhaps it was Kyra herself who was having an effect on him.

Kyra had been taught how to accept all different types of pleasure. Men stronger then her prince had taught her many valuable lessons, but as he roughly took her in his silken bed, Kyra found a new found respect for him. He was gentle yet insistent. He was taking out his day of frustrations on her and she was enjoying every moment of it.

As his teeth nipped a her skin she gasped, her eyes opening as a deep groan left her lips. This man was weavin a spell over her. She cared about him and his pleasure even though she was nothing more to him then any of the other servants that worked in his home.

"My prince. Oh GODS!" She cried out into the room around them, her body clenching tightly in pleasure as she came for him.

He could feel her juices flowing. It wasn't long before he shot his seed into Kyra's willing body with a hard thrust and his head thrown back. As quickly as his passions flared up, they began to ebb. He lowered his head to look her in the eye through the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains surrounding his bed. He gently wiped away a few beads of sweat from her forehead and laid beside her.

"The book you brought with you. Master Ithros wrote it for you." It wasn't a question. The prince simply nodded his head in approval. "When he was a young man, he risked his life to travel south and find a rare book believed lost in a great fire. Ask him to tell you the story sometime. It would make him happy."

Rath laid back on the bed with one powerful arm still wrapped around Kyra. He drifted off to sleep not long afterward. The prince was always a light sleeper, but that night he felt less troubled by the difficult tasks he knew lay not far ahead.

Kyra frowned slightly at the prince's choice of pillow talk. He certainly was an odd man, one that he didn't think she would ever understand. Soon, he fell asleep with his arm still wrapped tightly around her. She found sleep elusive, wide awake until the wee hours of the morning with all of the thoughts and questions that he inspired within her.

She alternated between looking at the ceiling of his silk canopy and glancing towards his slumbering features. Was this what her life would be now? A life of learning and sex? Her father would have died a thousand deaths if he saw her now.

That thought brought tears to her eyes. She had once had a bright and shining future, the catch of any man she wanted. Now...now everything just seemed so dull an lifeless. She didn't move as her tears fell unchecked, her sorrow filling her soul for the hundredth time since she had left her home land.

A fortnight passed. The scouts came to the palace and informed the king and prince that they had found the camp where the Enshar profit was hiding. The cavalry fell on them swiftly. Prince Rath led the charge as he had said he would that morning when the decision was made to wipe out the traitors. But the returning procession was bittersweet. A lot of good men had been lost. The survivors carried the wounded on litters and among them was the prince himself. Three arrows still stood from his torso when he was brought to the palace and a deep cut crossed his chest.

The royal healers did what they could for him, but the prince would be bedridden for a time. All they could do was apply poultices and pray his wounds did not begin to fester. Rath lay in his silken bed as one of the healers changed the bandages on his wounds. The physician stood to leave and Rath placed a hand on his arm. "Tell the lady Kyra that I wish to see her. She'll be in the library."

"So you tell me that your people are peaceful but they wage war? How does that make sense?" Kyra asked her dutiful teacher, challenging him like she always did during her lessons. "Doesn't history teach you that you are doomed to failure for that?"

Kyra enjoyed her lessons as much as she was learning to enjoy her new home. The prince made sure that she was comfortable. She had a new dress every day, all the books he could want to read, and a handmaiden to take care of her needs. Still, she longed to venture outside of the palace walls but that was still forbidden.

Ithros smiled patiently. "My lady, the Rhagali history was written in blood. In the desert your domain is only that which you are able to protect. We do not relish warfare, but we exalt the courage and strength to defend what is yours. You saw that Prince Rath put his life on the line to stand with his soldiers. It is tradition that the king and his heirs be on the battlefield so that they may see what violence truly is. A king who cloisters himself away from the world and his subjects will eventually become a tyrant."

At that moment, the court physician came in. "Pardon me, Master Ithros. His grace, Prince Rath, has requested to see the lady Kyra."

Ithros looked from the healer to Kyra and nodded. "You should go to him. We will continue when your return." He took Kyra's hands and bowed to her with a smile. "You know... the prince seems to have become fond of you in this short time. His mood is much less severe when you are around."