To Love a Prince (Knights of Valor Book 1)(3)

“You can’t!” Premal stood, his hands fisted at his sides.

“Silence!” The sultan’s voice echoed through the chamber, and the courtiers turned to stare.

Premal returned to his seat and pressed his lips together, but his fists were still balled at his sides.

The adviser’s audacity surprised Eli. Another facet to Premal, and one the prince might be able to exploit during negotiations.

Eli glanced down at the prostrate slave girl and swallowed hard as desire sliced into him. Slavery was illegal in Tamryn. Amoral. Evil. You couldn’t own a sentient being with a soul that belonged to the gods. It was one of the few Dragon Church teachings he agreed with absolutely.

And yet, as he stared down at her, he wanted her. Just as the sultan’s adviser did. Eli’s cool detachment wavered as the girl stared up at him, her cornflower-blue eyes pleading. He just didn’t know what she was pleading for him to do.

“She does not please?” the sultan asked, his tone cooling as he glared down at the slave.

Fear flickered across the girl’s face.

“She pleases me very much,” Eli said. “But I’m at a loss on how to express my gratitude for such a magnificent gift.”

The prince swallowed back his revulsion at calling the woman a gift, but his words had his desired effect.

The sultan grinned. “I’m glad you are pleased!”

Pandhuka waived the woman to Eli, and she scurried over beside her new master. The sultan then clapped his hands, and the dancing resumed.

Premal glared at Eli. The adviser may not have been an enemy, but he was now.

Eli stared back, raising a brow and waiting for the Qumarefi to look away. Premal grumbled something in his native language then turned his attention back to the entertainments.

The slave girl sat at Eli’s feet and laid her head against the prince’s thigh and leaned her soft curves against his leg. Biting back a wave of desire, Eli forced himself to watch the dancers as he stroked the girl’s copper hair.





Chapter 2





The entertainment ended late in the evening, and etiquette allowed Eli to retire to his suite.

As the prince stood, the sultan grinned and winked. “The desert nights get cold. Your bed will be much warmer now.”

Eli dipped his head.

The sultan laughed, pleased with himself, and motioned for Eli to take his leave.

Giving Pandhuka a diplomatic smile, the prince tried not to think about the sultan’s implications, his physical reaction to those implications, or how much he wanted to give into that reaction.

Eli escaped the feast, and his bodyguards and adviser on Qumarefi culture were waiting for him on the other side of the massive oak doors.

A servant led the prince to his rooms, and when they were some distance from the hall, his adviser motioned toward the slave girl. “Mess we got here, Your Highness.”

Eli raised a brow at the “we”.

Rolland shook his head. “Sultan can be surprising like that. Generous to a fault if he likes you. Nothing you could do but accept his gift, Your Highness, or risk insulting him.”

The slave stared down at her hands but continued to follow them.

“Not a mess, but things took an unexpected turn.” Eli glanced back at the girl. He was unsure why he comforted her, but he wasn’t in the mood to question his instincts. He offered her his arm.

The girl stared at him, her eyes widening in surprise, but she slid her arm through his.

“Qumaref isn’t like Tamryn, Your Highness,” Rolland said. “She’s your lesser. She should walk behind you, not next to you.”

“By Thalia’s flame, don’t tell me you believe that nonsense.” Eli took the girl’s hand and laid it on his sleeve. Her fingers were cold and trembling, and he laid his other hand over top of hers to warm and steady her. A slightly intimate gesture by Tamarian standards, but well within protocol.

“Qumarefis will think you’re mad, Your Highness.”

“Good. They’ll underestimate me.”

Rolland grimaced then stared at the floor. “If the Dragon Church gets wind of your present, they’ll be angry, Your Highness.”

“When aren’t they?”

Rolland grinned. “True enough. Good thing no Knights of Valor came with us.”

“I expected extenuating circumstances. Knights will only complicate an already difficult negotiation.”

Prince Eli allowed the conversation to end as he followed his bodyguards down the winding halls, through an arched doorway, and into a sumptuous suite.

The room was cool, and fresh-cut flowers filled crystal vases, scenting the air with their delicate fragrance. Elaborate mosaics decorated the floors, and plush rugs cushioned their steps. Cinnamon-colored silk draped the walls, flowed over the windows, and encircled the massive bed that dominated the center of the room.

Unbidden thoughts teased through his brain, and Eli forced himself not to glance at the slave girl beside him.

“Checked the suite?” Eli stared into the shadows searching for the only bodyguard he trusted.

Sligo appeared and bowed.

The slave beside Eli jumped, but she didn’t utter a sound.

“Thoroughly, Your Highness. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I’m glad we brought extra men. Security is lax despite the big wall.”