A Royal Pain In
The Ass
by John Brooke
She lolled
luxuriously among the pillows behind silk drapes.
Her gleaming raven hair curled above flirtatious
eyes. Spice scented bare belly flesh flashed
beneath loosely fitted embroidered vest and above
partially opaque pantaloons.
Svetlana’s
body swayed rhythmically as the slaves carried
the Royal litter through the crowded marketplace.
Into this mass
of unwashed humanity a dashing young gallant
riding a white stallion caused an exuberant stir.
The commotion
caught Svetlana’s attention. One look and
her hormones rose on the escalator of passion.
She commanded the slaves to halt and bring
him to her.
The gentleman
saw them coming, spurred his horse, and rode
directly at her. She was shocked and
thrilled at his audacity.
He parted the
Royal curtains with the tip of his sword. Took
one look at her captivating beauty, grimaced and
galloped off. Pique would be a mild word for
her wounded feelings.
In truth, he
was a sharp-eyed Crown Prince who instinctively
knew she was an impostor. Not a Royal Princess. She
was nothing, a brazen slave girl delivering
a new litter to the Royal Palace.
Damn!
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