To Love a Prince (Knights of Valor Book 1)(2)

Premal showed Eli through the front doors and into a massive entryway. Protected from the unrelenting sun by the cool stone of the palace, the prince blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light.

The sweet smell of honeysuckle and fresh flowers filled the air. Tiled floors were swept clean of sand, and the sound of their steps echoed through the stone corridors.

A bear of a man garbed in red silk waited for the Prince of Tamryn at the end of the hall.

“Prince Eli,” the sultan bellowed as he spread his arms wide. “Welcome to Qumaref!”

“Sultan Pandhuka,” Eli said. “On behalf of Tamryn, I appreciate you extending the courtesy of a visit and hope that this will be the first step in a long and mutually rewarding friendship.”

“Ha, he said my name right!” The sultan laughed. “You have been studying, my friend.”

“Only what has been brought to us second-hand. I hope to remedy that.”

“Man of action. I appreciate that.”

Eli walked beside the sultan, and Pandhuka filled the prince’s ears with the usual idle diplomatic pleasantries as he led Eli through the palace. While Pandhuka spoke, the prince listened enough to respond, but he focused on memorizing their path and the layout of the building.

“We must celebrate your arrival, and what better way than a feast,” the sultan said. He snapped his fingers, and two guards opened the doors of an enormous banquet hall.

Large plush pillows surrounded a long table set low to the ground. A raised throne dominated the head of the table with a large chair on either side of it. A haunting melody filled the hall as servants played exotic instruments, and the scent of roasting meat teased Eli’s senses.

The sultan flopped back in the throne and waved the Prince of Tamryn into the chair on his right. Premal took the seat on the sultan’s left, and sunlight glinted off the rings the adviser wore on every finger.

Dressed in bright-colored silks, Premal’s generous midsection made the fabric billow around him like a tent. Almost comical, except for the way Premal stared at the people entering the dining hall. Like a snake stalking his next meal.

Premal was dangerous, but Eli didn’t yet know if the adviser was an ally or enemy.

Eli sat beside the sultan, and courtiers draped in beautiful silks seated themselves on the plush pillows. Conversation started out as little more than a buzz, but soon laughter and voices filled the hall.

Young men dressed only in baggy silk trousers circulated among the guests, carrying trays laden with fruit, wine and heavily spiced meats. Eli ate the fruit, sampled the wine, and avoided the meat. The spices could mask poison or conceal spoiled food. While the food was better than sea rations, Eli cared little. He ate for sustenance.

The sultan devoured the luscious offerings and called for more wine as he talked about establishing diplomatic relations with Tamryn.

Eli said little but encouraged the sultan to speak, taking mental notes of which topics Pandhuka brought up more than once.

Footmen dressed in matching poofed pants and gold-trimmed vests served dish after dish as the sultan talked. Prince Eli stayed focused and alert even as gluttony gave way to sleepiness for the courtiers. As a servant refilled the sultan’s wine glass again, a troupe of entertainers entered the hall. Even Pandhuka quieted as the troupe bowed low before him then carried their instruments to the side of the massive room.

Eli raised a brow as sensuous notes filled the hall and cascaded around him. Warm and sultry, their powerful beats silenced the idle chatter. The prince had never heard anything like it. Hypnotic, erotic, the music seeped into his blood and wrapped around his brain.

Male dancers wearing nothing but loincloths entered, their bodies undulating with the rhythm of the music. A group of young ladies followed, their sheer silk costumes decorated with shining glass beads in the same hues as the sultan’s gardens. The beads danced with the rhythmic movements of the women’s bodies and amplified the effects of the sensuous music.

The last dancer emerged, and unlike the others, she bared no flesh as the layers of sky blue silk cascaded and swirled around her. Dainty embroidered slippers covered her feet, and a sheer veil left only her hair and large eyes exposed.

She captivated Eli, and the prince ignored Pandhuka as her graceful steps and elegant movements infected him. She danced to the sultry music, the silk sliding over her curves and hinting at the beauty beneath the sumptuous fabric.

Desire swelled, and Eli’s stoic reserve slipped as he shifted in his seat to find a more comfortable position.

The copper red of her hair shimmered in the candlelight, and the prince wanted to touch it, to tangle his fingers in it.

He trapped the thought. The food, the music, the dancers, what was the sultan’s game?

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Pandhuka said.

“Yes,” Eli said. “Should you ever visit me in Tamryn, you’ll find the ballroom dancing most disappointing.”

“I hear Tamryn nights are very cold. Even colder than the desert.”

“During parts of the year, cold enough that water turns to ice.”

“Then, my friend, I shall give you something to keep you warm on those cold Tamryn nights.” The sultan laughed and motioned to the red-haired woman.

The woman stepped forward, knelt at the sultan’s feet, then bowed forward until her forehead touched the floor.

“A gift, Prince Eli.” The sultan spread his arms wide. “From my personal slaves. May she keep you warm in Tamryn.”