Chapter LXXIII: Courtship
The following night, Isabella sat by the king’s side at the main hall table, her posture straight and composed. The air was filled with anticipation, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow over the opulent setting. Both the king and Prince Damian had not yet arrived, leaving a hushed buzz of conversation among the gathered courtiers.
When Prince Damian finally entered, he made his way to his chair, his presence commanding attention. He sat down, his gaze immediately drifting to Isabella. With a sly smile, he leaned in slightly, his voice smooth and provocative. "Isabella, what did you think of the gifts I sent you?"
Isabella remained serious, her eyes fixed forward, her head held high. "I appreciate the gifts, your Highness," she said evenly, her tone polite but distant.
Damian's smile widened as he continued his teasing. "Would you care to join me in a dance later?"
Isabella's expression didn't waver. "I forbid you from courting me in any way in public, Prince Damian. I am not like the king’s whores back in the harem."
Damian laughed, the sound echoing through the hall. "Ah, it seems Alaric was right. You do like to behave like a queen, don’t you?" He leaned closer, his eyes glittering with challenge. "Does that mean you are refusing me, Lady Isabella?"
Isabella remained silent, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead, she calmly lifted her goblet and took a sip of her wine, her demeanor unyielding.
Damian's amusement didn't falter. "Interesting," he mused, leaning back in his chair. "Very interesting."
At that moment, the doors opened, and the king entered the hall. His eyes immediately found Isabella, his expression unreadable. As he took his place beside her, he cast a quick glance at Damian, a silent exchange passing between the brothers.
The king turned his attention to Isabella, his voice low. "Is everything alright?"
Isabella nodded, her eyes finally meeting his. "Yes, my king. Everything is fine."
After dinner, both the king and Prince Damian made their way to the harem, the air filled with the heady scent of incense and the soft sound of music. The king’s concubines, draped in sheer fabrics and adorned with jewels, danced and moved seductively around them, serving wine and displaying their bodies in graceful, tantalizing movements.
Jia, one of the most captivating concubines, approached Prince Damian, her dance mesmerizing as she moved to the rhythm of the music. She swayed closer, her eyes locked onto his, every movement designed to entice and seduce.
Damian leaned back, enjoying the display, and commented to the king, "Jia has always been my favorite. She knows how to capture attention."
The king, reclining on a pile of sumptuous cushions, looked at his brother with a thoughtful expression. "Do you want her?" he asked, his voice casual yet serious.
Damian chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"
The king nodded, his gaze steady. "Yes. If you want her, I can release her from the harem. You could bring her to your palace and keep her as your mistress."
Damian's eyes sparkled with interest, the proposition clearly intriguing him. "It’s a tempting offer," he admitted, watching Jia's fluid movements. "Having her would certainly bring a touch of allure to my court."
Jia, sensing the intensity of their conversation, danced closer to Damian, her movements becoming even more seductive. She poured him another glass of wine, her fingers brushing lightly against his as she handed it to him.
As the evening progressed and the concubines continued to entertain, Damian leaned in closer to his brother, a sarcastic glint in his eyes. "So, brother, what does your favorite girl think of you visiting the harem tonight?"
The king's expression tightened slightly, but he maintained his composure. "Why do you ask, Damian?"
"I’m just curious," Damian began, his tone dripping with provocation, "I've heard rumors that you haven't fucked your other concubines for months."
The king's jaw tightened, but he forced a nonchalant smile. "Well, she’s probably pissed," he admitted, his voice casual. "She’s jealous, like any woman. I’ll deal with her later."
Deep down, the king felt a pang of unease. He didn’t want to make Isabella upset. Her fiery spirit and strong will were part of what made her so captivating, but he hated the thought of causing her distress. As much as the seductive dance of his concubines enticed him, he would rather have Isabella dancing for him over all of them.
Damian chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. "Ah, the trials of keeping a favorite, especially that one. I think she nurture strong feelings for you, brother. It must be difficult to balance."
The king's eyes flickered with a mix of annoyance and truth. "It's a balance I've learned to manage," he replied, his voice tight. "Isabella understands her place. She’s a smart girl, one of the reasons why I enjoy keeping her around."
Damian raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the conversation. "Still, it's interesting to see you so... distracted. One might think you're actually way too fond of her."
The king shot his brother with a sharp look. "Don't mistake my indulgence for weakness, Damian. Isabella is indeed valuable to me, but she’s just a prisoner in a gilded cage."
Damian's smirk widened. "Of course, brother. Just an observation."
The king turned his attention back to the dancers, but his thoughts remained with Isabella. He watched the concubines move, their bodies lithe and enticing, but the image of Isabella lingered in his mind. Her grace, her strength, the way she looked at him with a mixture of defiance and devotion—it was something none of the others could replicate.
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