Meria halted in front of the closed doors, her dark eyes boring into Joana's as she held out her weathered hands.
"You're going in and you're going to kneel," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"The Emperor must see you as completely submissive. When he's finished, you head right back to the concubine's room. No detours—I'll know if you stray."
Joana lowered her gaze and nodded softly, "Yes, Overseer Meria." After a long, silent moment, Meria reached into her pocket, pulled out a small set of keys, and unlocked the door, letting Joana step inside.
The room was surprisingly spacious and warm, its floor covered with expensive rugs that muffled her footsteps. Joana's eyes took in every detail: a built-in hearth on one wall (unlit now that summer's heat ruled the day), and several tapestries hanging around the room.
They depicted groups of naked figures in all sorts of strange, almost hypnotic poses. There was a massive bed in one corner, large enough to fit ten people, draped in mink and furs meant to keep the Emperor and his guests warm through the night. A table cluttered with perfume bottles, jugs of wine, and delicate glass cups caught her attention too. Directly opposite the door, she'd just entered stood a set of double doors that looked even fancier—carved wood covered with painted gold leaves. This, she knew, was the Emperor's entrance.
Her heart pounded as she remembered Meria's strict orders. With trembling fingers, Joana dropped to her knees, spreading her hands out on her thighs. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, focusing on every sound around her, trying to steady herself. After what felt like an eternity, she heard heavy, confident steps approaching.
The double doors creaked open, and there he was—The Emperor, his stride sure and self-assured, as if doubt had never even crossed his mind.
He paused in front of her, dressed in fine pants and polished leather shoes. Joana barely dared to breathe as he reached out and gently placed his hand on the crown of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her.
Keep clam...Keep clam...
She felt his palm glide down the side of her face until his fingers curled beneath her chin, lifting it ever so slightly. When their eyes met in the flickering candlelight, half his face was hidden in shadow, but his dark purple eyes sparkled with an intensity that made her heart skip.
"Joana," he said with a soft smile that somehow made the room feel both warmer and colder all at once. "I'm very pleased to have you here tonight."
At that moment, without thinking too much, she reached up, took the hand that rested at her chin, and pressed his long fingers to her lips in a gentle kiss. "I remain your humble servant, Your Majesty," she whispered.
"Now, stand up, Joana," he ordered kindly. Clutching his hand, she rose slowly, never breaking eye contact. He caressed her face with his other hand as he helped her to her feet. "You're very beautiful," he murmured.
She managed a small smile. "The Emperor is too kind," she replied, and he laughed—a light, genuine sound that made the atmosphere a little less heavy.
"No," he countered softly, leaning in even closer. Their breaths mingled, and for a long moment, she expected his lips to meet hers again.
Instead, he pulled back slightly, and she opened her eyes to see him just inches away, his warmth practically enveloping her. The familiar, uniquely manly scent of his skin, mixed with something fresh and wild, filled her senses.
She noticed the steady movement of his throat as he swallowed, his jawline sharply defined in the low light.
"May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice low and inviting. Joana's heart nearly stopped, her lips parting in surprise.
"Y-yes," she stammered, quickly adding, "Yes, Your Majesty."
The corners of his mouth lifted as he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against hers. The kiss was deep and deliberate—he tasted of mint leaves and something rich, like venison.
Their fingers intertwined tightly, her hand clinging to him as she wrapped her other arm around his waist. His silk garments felt incredibly soft against her skin, and he pulled her even closer, a gentle hand at her throat keeping her secure. The other hand was at her hips, keeping her close enough. Although it was measuring her dimensions too.
"Joana," he murmured as his lips wandered from her mouth to her cheek, then her jaw, and down to her neck.
A current ran through her spine, Her heart thundered in her chest, and she kept her eyes closed, letting the sensations wash over her.
What's that? I...Did I pee?
For the first time in her life, Joana was getting wet, and she didn't know about it... although other concubines told her what to do, they didn't mention anything like this.
Well...this was supposed to be common knowledge, but Joana was a street rat a few months ago.
He released her hand to explore further, his palm moving slowly down her back until he cupped her firmly. She dug her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, not wanting to let go.
His mouth moved to her neck, kissing and softly sucking along the sensitive skin. When his teeth grazed her pulse point, a sharp, blinding pain shot through her, and she couldn't help but moan softly, her arms tightening around him. His tongue quickly followed, smoothing over the sting, while his hands roamed up her back until they reached the edge of her dress.
"I want you," he whispered huskily into her ear, his words sending shivers down her spine. "And you know it. You gave yourself to me—didn't you? In the bathhouse."
Her eyes squeezed shut, and she clutched the fabric of his clothes with trembling fingers. "I live to please His Majesty," she answered, her voice barely audible. He chuckled softly, and the warmth of his breath against her skin felt like a promise of everything that was about to come.