The plateau of Adyll was born out of the sea, pushed up through tectonic pressures over a million years ago. To the east, beyond the cliffs where the capital city is located, lies a formidable desert which stretches for hundreds of miles, uninhabite...
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Nasreen's sedative began to take effect. The tightness between her shoulders dissipated. Bland tiredness took its place. She hated the numbness when it came, but she understood from experience why it was needed. Nasreen never questioned her purpose or time spent in service to the Goddess. As her mother told her, If it is, it is Her will.
An hour passed. Men came and went. Nasreen remained unused. She was almost asleep from the herb-laced wine she had ingested when she realized there was a man standing in front of her.
"How much?" he asked the Procuress. Nasreen recognized the almost musical nature of his accent.
A desert dweller?
"Because you bear the rank of Prince, my Lord Takri, any woman here is yours for the taking. The God-Among-Men is generous to those he deems worthy," recited the Procuress, bowing low before the young man. "I will show you to a room where you may enjoy her in peace. May Mahleck take pleasure in your pleasure."
Nasreen kept her eyes looking at the floor. Had the stories been false? Before the Swarm had made its way to the gates of Adyll, stories had returned with Adyll's soldiers that the desert tribes had been destroyed, no survivors other than the Princess Lilua who was now held in the Palace. The Narim were a proud race who bowed to no one. For one of them to be here in Adyll was unfathomable. For that one to also be of the rank of Prince in the Locust King's court...?
She followed the Procuress to the room, followed by the prince. Her eyes remained downcast, even under her veil. When they reached the door and Nasreen was inside the small windowless room, the Procuress handed the prince a key.
"You may lock the door behind you and do with her as you wish. Her purpose is only to serve you. No desire of yours will be left unfilled." She turned and left the room. He locked the door behind her. Nasreen and the young man were alone.
An oil lamp spilled light across the room, illuminating a bed on one side. The customary wall tapestries illustrating the Lady's trysts with her various lovers were gone, leaving the walls bare of decoration. Opposite the bed a post was set into the floor with shackles hanging from near the top. A chest was set at the foot of the bed, painted red and black with the sign of the locust on its lid. Nasreen hoped he wouldn't open it. It contained instruments of torture. Most men did not use them, but there were some who could not enjoy the joining without them. Nasreen stood in the center of the room with her head lowered in a pose of submission.
"Take off your veil so that I can see your eyes, little one," said the prince.
"It is forbidden," whispered Nasreen.
"So, you do have a voice? I was beginning to wonder!" he said, laughing. "Is it forbidden if I lift it?" He pulled back the veil, and lifted Nasreen's chin in his hand. The veil fell around her feet. She kept her eyes averted from his. To look a man in his eyes was punishable by whipping, or in the worst cases, blinding.
