He shoved the small magical painting into the pocket of his robes. A young serving wench was sweeping the carpet in the dimly lit corridor. Striding up to her he said in a harsh voice, “Lift your gown, wench, put your palms against the wall and bend over for me.” She did not argue or even speak but obeyed his rough commands instantly. Jonah was grateful that Vilia had taught their servants total obedience. Pulling up his robe, he directed his aching manhood, thrusting into the serving girl, pumping her hard as he imagined her to be Zagiri of Terah. He pushed deeper and deeper. The girl moaned as she shared pleasures with him. Finally satisfied he released his juices, withdrew from the servant and, pulling down his robes, hurried off down the hallway.
The encounter had taken the edge off of his lusts for now. Jonah was surprised by his reaction to the painting of the young princess. He had always been a careful man. A man who retained complete charge over himself, and those about him. But seeing the girl’s beautiful face, and then her even more beautiful body, a body that was obviously filled with passion, he had found himself helpless to his own lusts. He had to regain control of himself again. He would not be like his predecessor, Gaius Prospero, who had found himself ensorcelled by a young and beautiful wife, and lost all of his abilities to rule in his desire to be with her. Nay! This beautiful, royal young wife would bring him prestige among the magnates of Hetar, and the people. He would convince them all that his marriage to Princess Zagiri of Terah would be the beginning of a new and prosperous era for Hetar. He would miss Vilia. But her sacrifice would not be in vain.
Once again the Lord High Ruler of Hetar applied to the young Dominus of Terah for his sister Zagiri’s hand. Taking Vilia’s advice, he told the Dominus that his sister would be known as the First Lady of Hetar, a title created especially for her. She would have a home in The City, and a villa in the Outlands on the sea. She would have vineyards, horses and cattle that would be hers. And all the slaves and servants she desired. He would treat her with respect and honor.
“If this came from any other man,” Lara said, “I should seriously consider it, but not Jonah. The man is wickedness personified. His persistence disturbs me.”
“He has sent a miniature of himself,” Ampyx said, holding it out to his mistress.
She looked at it. “He does not flatter himself,” she noted. “I will give him that. Dispose of it, and send the Lord High Ruler a final refusal. Be less diplomatic this time, Ampyx,” Lara instructed him. “Polite, but firm.”
“I will attend to it, Domina,” Ampyx replied, taking the miniature and bowing himself from her library. In his own small chamber the First Secretary set the miniature down on his writing table and wrote the Lord High Ruler of Hetar. Then, calling an undersecretary to him, he dispatched the missive not noticing that the miniature had disappeared from his large writing table.
* * *
ZAGIRI AWOKE THE following morning to find the miniature upon her pillow. Picking it up, she gazed into the dark eyes of the man pictured, and an odd feeling she could not put a name to overcame her. He could not be called handsome. His long face was perhaps a bit too severe, but there was a distinguished air about him. “Who are you?” she wondered aloud, and turned the miniature over. Jonah, Lord High Ruler of Hetar were the words inscribed upon the reverse of the little painting.
Surprised, Zagiri turned the oval in her hand back again to look upon his face. His dark eyes compelled her and when his thin lips twitched with a small amused smile Zagiri gasped with surprise, dropping the miniature in her hand. It fell toward the floor of the chamber, and then jumped back up directly into her palm again. Her fingers closed about it as if to protect it from further misadventure.
Suddenly the picture went dark, and when it grew light once more it pictured the dark-eyed man upon a large bed making love to a golden-haired girl Zagiri recognized as herself. She could not turn away from the tableau playing out before her eyes. The man was slender, but well muscled. His male member was quite large. He reached out to caress the breast of the naked girl and Zagiri could feel that hand caressing her breast. His mouth closed over a nipple, and Zagiri felt the tug of his lips, the swipe of his tongue as he licked the warm flesh of her bosom. She sighed with pleasure as those lips touched hers. She felt the pressure of them, the heat of them. Oh, it was wonderful! She had been kissed before, but never quite like this. A little moan escaped her, and, startled, she turned away from the miniature. When she looked back again it was his face she saw.
Had she imagined that erotic scene? Of course she had! Pictures of people didn’t become alive. Zagiri laughed weakly. How had the miniature gotten into her bedchamber, and upon her pillow? She somehow knew her mother would not approve. Why did Lara dislike the Lord High Ruler of Hetar so much? Oh, she said he was wicked, and indeed the man in the painting did look a bit wicked. But he fascinated her, too. She was seventeen, and not a baby like Marzina who was four years younger. Shouldn’t she be allowed a say in her future?
The search was on for a suitable prospective husband for her. Her mother and her grandmother were both involved in it. They would undoubtedly be parading a group of handsome, wealthy young men before her sooner than later. Suddenly Zagiri didn’t know if she wanted to be married to a handsome, wealthy young man. She glanced down at the miniature again. The Lord High Ruler of Hetar had a seductive face that hinted at a very sensual nature, and while Zagiri was the most mortal of Lara’s daughters she had her mother’s passionate and fierce sexual nature. Jonah of Hetar looked like a far more interesting bed partner than the respectable scion of any wealthy Terahn family.
I want a man for a husband, not a boy, Zagiri thought to herself. Then she wondered again from where the miniature had come. She would ask Marzina about it. Her younger sister was good at keeping secrets, and usually knew everything that went on in the castle.
“Mother got another offer from Hetar for your hand yesterday,” Marzina was pleased to tell her elder sibling. She very much enjoyed knowing what Zagiri did not.
“Why wasn’t I told?” Zagiri said, annoyed. “I am not a child. Why does Mother insist upon treating me like one?”
“There was a miniature with the missive, but Mother told Ampyx to dispose of it,” Marzina cheerfully volunteered.
“This miniature?” Zagiri said, holding it out for Marzina to see.
“Where did you get that?” the younger girl asked.
“It was on my pillow when I awoke this morning,” Zagiri replied.
Marzina looked at the portrait. “He is not young,” she noted. “And I feel the wickedness about him even just looking at his picture.”
“I think he is very attractive. He looks like a man who knows how to rule,” Zagiri said. “I would not mind if they made me his wife.”
“You would have to leave Terah, and go to live in Hetar,” Marzina responded.
“Terah is quiet and dull,” Zagiri answered her younger sister. “Hetar, I think, would be exciting.” She took the little portrait back from Marzina. “Don’t tell anyone I have this. It is probably the closest I will ever get to Hetar,” she said with a sigh.
“You need to take a lover,” Marzina remarked wisely.
“I do not want a lover. I just want a husband,” Zagiri said.
“But if you don’t take a lover or two before you must wed then you will never know what other men are like,” Marzina said. “It is not forbidden to take lovers once we reach the age of fourteen. Don’t tell me you would go to your husband a virgin, Zagiri? If you have no experience, and do not know how to give and share pleasures you will disappoint him greatly. A woman should