The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(37)

I turned to Diandra and asked, “Can I go now?”

Her head tipped to the side and her brows drew together. “Go?”

“Home, um… back to the cham.”

“But no, my queen, of course not. We eat, we drink, we dance, the celebration will last into the night.”

Was she kidding? It was barely noon.

“I can’t sit out in this sun until it sets, Diandra, I’ll be a lobster.”

“A lobster?”

“My skin will burn red,” I explained and she smiled.

“Ah, I see, a lobster after it is cooked. Clever, Dahksahna Circe.”

I wasn’t trying to be clever. I was trying to save myself from third degree burns.

“Diandra, I’m serious.”

She stared at me, the smile died out of her eyes and then she looked uncertainly at the king.

Then she muttered, “I see this job will have its downfalls.” Then she called out to Lahn, I looked to him and saw his head turn to her, he watched her as she spoke then his eyes dropped to my arm for a fraction of a second before they sliced back to her.

“Me,” he grunted and looked away.

“He says no,” Diandra told me.

She had to be kidding. He had to be kidding.

“But I’ll fry out here!” I cried, she bit her lip and I heard Lahn speak.

I looked to him and back to Diandra when she interpreted.

“The golden queen sits at her king’s side.”

I looked to Lahn. “Seriously, Lahn, this sun is hot, the fires are hot and my skin isn’t like yours. It’s not –”

Diandra was talking with me and Lahn cut us both off with, “Me.”

“Lahn!” I snapped, he leaned into me and his eyes were scary.

“Me, Circe. Me.”

He looked away and that was it.

No.

Okay, one good thing about that was that my dilemma was solved as to how I felt about being in this world and how I felt about my savage king.

And that solution was that I was done. I needed to find a way out.

As soon as f**king possible.

Chapter Nine

The Celebration

Night had fallen, torches had been lit and I knew by the tightness of my skin that I was burned to a crisp.

Diandra wasn’t wrong, the celebration lasted into the night and things could get sordid.

This was, I was guessing, because this culture was whacked.

It was also because, like any people, primitive savage cultures or not, you pass the booze around freely, shit happens.

It all started merry, drumming, dancing, jugs were produced and passed around, casks were set up, the latter two people partook of liberally as in, the Korwahk knew how to party and they did it hard. Women threaded through the throngs weighed down by huge wooden platters groaning with food. There was a lot of laughter, lots of random cheers of Suh Tunak! and the constant din of happy, party conversation under the equally constant banging of the drums.

Throughout this, I sat on my white throne and often people would approach, children, adults, the elderly, and all of them had flowers or petals. Their eyes would go to their Dax, they’d receive his consent (an arrogant jerk of the chin, by the by) and these flowers or petals would be tossed at me feet or in my lap or anywhere around my chair so that now I had a pile of them around me everywhere.

I had flowers but no conversation. The Dax allowed them to bestow their blossoms on me but they were not allowed to come close or speak and outside of his arrogant jerk of the chin, they ceased to exist for him too.

Weird.

Shortly after the celebration began, a woman moved to Lahn with a silver chalice that she handed to him, filled from a jug and then she backed away while I stared at her thinking it didn’t surprise me I didn’t get a chalice but it would become clear why very quickly.

I was to be watered and fed by my king.

No joke.

If he wanted me to have a drink, he turned to me and offered the chalice which, at first, was filled with what tasted like orange juice mixed with pineapple and then, later, water and finally wine. If a woman (and there were a great number of them) advanced with a tray of roasted meat, roasted vegetables, slabs of spiced meat, cut fruit, flat breads slathered with what looked and tasted like herbed hummus or a white yogurt sauce with cucumber, onion and garlic or even pieces of candy that looked like creamy white sugar bark doused liberally with nuts and candied fruit, Lahn would make my selections for me, turn to me, lean into me, his hand held out and I’d have to take it not with my hand (I learned that with a quick, clipped, bark of “me” from Lahn at the beginning) but with my mouth.

Annoying and, might I add, insane.

But I played the role of the golden queen, took food and drink from my king’s fingers at his command, listened to the drums, watched the dancers and revelry, listened to the shouts of laughter and cheers and searched the crowd hoping to see Narinda.

I did not see Narinda. I saw Sheena dancing a couple of times but no Narinda. I also saw the vendor who I got the bangles from. He was talking to some people and pointing at me so I waved at him. This caused him to smile a smile so big it had to hurt his face, jump up and down and clasp his hands toward the heavens again which made me laugh the only laugh I’d laughed since getting to the selection

Shortly after the ceremony was over and the celebration began, with a terse order, Lahn relieved Diandra of her duties. She gave me an encouraging smile, moved quickly down the steps and disappeared in the revelers. This meant I didn’t even have my new friend to talk to.