Tasmina's Tale

5. Marking a Prince

Tasmina

I wasn’t quite so enamoured with everything once I had been pacing around the hall for nearly an hour.

“Where is this pampered prince?” I asked, angrily.

“Be still, my girl. The royals work on their own time. Our purpose is to simply mark them and return to our lives until we are next called upon. It is your honour to create the mark of the wolf for the future King of Zamee.”

“He should be so honoured,” I muttered under my breath.

I sniffed suddenly.

“Mama, if they’re making banana bread in the palace today, do you think they’ll let us take some?”

Mama looked at me for a moment, puzzled as footsteps approached. She turned to the palace entrance of the hall and bowed as the prince of Zamee walked in with the Queen by his side. I had never before seen him, but there was no mistaking who he was. At only sixteen, he was the same height as my Mama already. His hair was as dark as the abyss, his eyes a light amber that seemingly glowed. He was tall, proud and arrogant, his chest puffed out, his shoulders pushed back. He was a broad man, taking up an obnoxious amount of space, if you asked me.

He looked around the hall, his eyes stopping for a moment on his future throne, before they travelled again and gradually came to rest on me. He stopped in his tracks, his gaze fixed. The Queen was saying something to him, but I didn’t hear a word. He seemed not to care as he began to walk directly towards me, her words fading as she watched, bemused.

His amber eyes darkened like an abyss as he neared me and I was rooted to the spot as he stopped merely inches from me. I wanted to step back, but I didn’t dare show this predator any weakness. The smell of banana bread was making my mouth water though, and I couldn’t think straight.

Slowly, as though he had all the time in the world, he leaned down towards my neck. He inhaled deeply, never touching me, but smelling along my neck and up my jaw, before he stood tall again, his face barely inches from mine. The look he gave me sent a shiver down my spine. It spoke of possession, power and something else but I wasn’t quite sure what.

I realised then I had been holding my breath. Without another word, he turned on his heel and marched towards the marble steps that led to the thrones. He sat upon the king’s throne brazenly, looking down at both Mama and I. An omega quickly placed a stood in front of him, and the prince looked at me before clicking his fingers and beckoning to me.

I felt the heat rise to my face. How rude. I looked at Mama, outraged. She gave the most subtlest of shakes to her head, looking at the ground.

My girl, be patient. He is the future king, show some restraint, she linked.

Right. Restraint it was. Queen Maha watched carefully as I climbed the steps. I wouldn’t say I was leisurely, but I surely wasn’t in any hurry. I sat carefully on the stool, as ink and a small hearth to sterilise my needle was brought before me.

“What is your name?”

I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. It was deep, vibrating through the entire hall with gravitas. Even at such a young age, without having fully developed into a man, he oozed an insurmountable power.

“My name is Tasmina,” I muttered, quietly.

“Tasmina what?” he pressed.

“Rikom, let the girl do her job,” Queen Maha spoke.

He held up his hand to silence his mother and I was taken aback.

“That’s very rude,” I blurted.

I heard a small, barely concealed groan and I knew Mama was internally screaming. I hadn’t meant to say it. But his eyes danced with the challenge.

“You think of me as rude? I am the Crown Prince of Zamee,” he declared, proudly.

“And your mother’s the Queen of Zamee. I think I know which station is higher.”

Mama gasped and I didn’t dare turn around to look at her. I was in so much s**t already, why stop now? I chanced a quick look at Queen Maha. She had her head tilted to the side and was eyeing me curiously.

“So you think I am rude?” he asked.

“I don’t think anything of you, your highness. I do not know you. But silencing your mother like that is rude.”

I could practically hear Mama’s internal wails at this point. Why couldn’t I stop? And when would that heady smell of freshly baked banana bread just go away?

“I apologise if you thought I was rude,” he said, gruffly.

“You do not need to apologise to me, Prince Rikom.”

To my absolute shock, he turned to look at the Queen.

“Mama, I apologise for my belligerence.”

It was Queen Maha’s turn to gasp. I hurriedly held the needle over the hearth, the heat rising to my face. s**t, s**t, s**t. Why could I never keep my mouth shut?

“Is there anything else I should know?” Prince Rikom asked.

I looked up at him quickly, for as long as propriety would allow, realising with a jolt that he was very handsome. He had a long, hooked nose that was almost sharp in its point. He had the hint of a beard on his otherwise smooth face, small tufts of hair that begin to appear when a boy is on the cusp of manhood. His mouth, which at first glance seemed cruel and hard, was full and inviting. When he caught me looking, my eyes snapped back down to my needle.

“You seem to have a lot of opinions for one whose duty it is to serve,” he said, smugly.

I thought of the way he had clicked his fingers at me. Rude, entitled behaviour. I found the thought of dung on my sandals more appealing. I looked up to meet his eye, jutting out my chin.

“I feel it is my duty to remind you, Prince Rikom, before you decide how to treat those who serve you, just make sure you’re the one wielding the blade.”

With that, I stuck the hot needle into his arm, ignoring the ink that had been placed beside me. He didn’t wince or cry out. His eyes continued to bore into my own and a small, crooked smile spread across his face. Goddess, he was beautiful.

“I vow, with my mother, your mother and High Goddess as my witnesses. I will serve you for the rest of my life, mate.”

My breathing stopped and I tore my gaze away from his, as our mothers gasped in unison. I began my work with the needle, looking straight down at his forearm, heat spreading to all corners of my body. Try as I might, I couldn’t help the warmth, the same way I couldn’t help the smile that had spread across my face. With a terrifying realisation, I knew I would believe anything and everything that this boy told me.