They’d locked the doors for the night.
Slave girl Lia waited, feeling apprehensive. What duties would she be expected to perform? She’d only heard vague whisperings of what went on in this chamber, hushed mentions of lust and lascivious desires.
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The Queen had made her choice earlier that evening at dinner. Lia had been serving the wine when the elegantly jeweled hand had shot out and grabbed her wrist, drawing her closer to the royal gaze. The Queen had studied the girl’s face before letting her eyes travel down Lia’s body, clad only in a simple white shift, a sly smile spreading across her face.
She abruptly gestured to her male servants. “Bring her.”
Thus she’d been escorted here, dressed in more elaborate, silken garments and left to await the Queen’s pleasure on a lustrously exotic bed.
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