Day 2, On Keeping a Pet

Imowen snuggled deeper in the blankets. They were soft and warm. She felt like she never wanted to leave their coziness. She started to roll onto her back, but found something large was in the way. Then she recalled where she was, the royal bed chamber, and she was in the royal bed... which meant the weight had to be the pervert king!

Carefully, she lifted at the blanket, only to discover that an arm was draped over it... and her. Imowen squeaked in embarrassment and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She risked a glance at the man next to her, he had no shirt on! She could easily see his muscular shoulders and bulging biceps. The heat threatened to burn her up entirely as she gingerly reached out to grab his arm. She could feel the power in those arms. She was certain that they could crush her if they wanted. Yet they seemed to only lay across her, 'Wait, this is only one arm. Where is the other?'

She wiggled slightly, but felt no unsightly bumps under her. A thought crossed her mind and she brought her hand up to her head and her fear was confirmed. Her wonderful pillow, was the other bicep. She felt as if her face was on fire now. Another thought crossed her mind and she quickly used her other hand that was trapped under the blanket to feel about her own waist, her nightgown was still there.

She suspiciously jerked her head around and glared at her king. She was shocked, he was above the quilt and still had on his breeches. He truly did not do anything to her. She felt strange, perhaps it was the wine, maybe the rumours were wrong... but then she remembered his eyes at that time. The hunger, she shuddered at the thought, but his eyes now, were different. They were deep and brown like a forest. 'Brown? Open?!'

She quickly squeezed her eyes shut and spun around, 'He was awake! How long? But he still didn't speak. He didn't move. He just looked back at me. Damn those eyes.' Suddenly she jumped at the sudden realization that she was still attracted to him, only to notice she had pressed up against him. She squeaked again and tried to bury herself deeper in the blankets.

"You look cute like that you know." Dagon stated as he used the arm above her to pull her tightly to him. His arm under her also wrapped around her, this happened to place her hair directly into his face and he could smell a hint of roses. He could not help but sniff deeply, it reminded him of Her. 'Selandria. How long has it been since I held you? How long since I gave up my mortality for you? How I wish this was you.'

He groaned as he released the young maiden and stretched to loosen his muscles. He felt a little bad about laying next to the poor girl, but between the knock to his noggin and the wine in his belly, he felt it was an okay compromise. He did nothing to her during the night, going so far as to remain on the balcony until he heard her breathing relax and become rhythmic. Only then did he return inside and lay down.

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Come, we have much to do today."

His words confused her for a bit, 'What in Svarem does he mean? We?' Another thought hit her.

"My lord... am I your consort now?"

Dagon looked back over his shoulder at her and grinned. "For now, just my pet. But with a bit of work, you could be a Royal Consort if you wish."

Her face flushed once again, she was certain that her face was going to be permanently red from this day forward. 'I am not a pet!' The annoyance was plainly evident by her body language, she was stiff and he could see with her every movement she was not pleased.

"Think of it this way. What happened last night stays between us. You will stay by my side and witness first hand how different I can be. I am fully confident that in the end, you will tell me what your true title shall be."

His words confused her again, why would anyone care what the king did? 'They would only care that I was no longer unsullied and would not be desired by men that would be worth marrying.' She turned to look at him, not certain of how to respond. Her face reddened again as she caught his rippling back as he seemed to perform some kind of exercise. She watched as his muscles chorded together as he pushed himself repeatedly up from the ground. Her gaze lingered even as he stopped and turned, her own eyes betraying her attraction to the man that continuously befuddled her. His core was layered in sweat and she could not help but trace the lines between each muscle with her eyes.

She cursed herself for even glancing at the man whom nearly took her for his own. He may be the king, but this was still hers to give. She was about to turn away in a huff, but she saw his eyes once more. 'Why are they brown?'

"My lord, um, your eyes."

Dagon simply stared at Imowen, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Your eyes are brown, m'lord."

His forehead creased in lines as he gave her another face of consternation. "And?"

She gazed at him in utter shock, "They should be blue, m'lord. It's the trait of the Arcanus line."

He laughed and shook his head before smiling at Imowen, "Maybe you hit me so hard my eyes changed color."

In all actuality, the eyes were the windows to the soul, and whenever he started a new life after awakening, his eyes would lose their previous color and become brown. It was the truest way to know the soul of a person was indeed different. Imowen had heard stories from the older ladies about people passing on and new souls inhabiting their bodies, for better or worse. Perhaps this was the case here. She decided to press her luck.

"My king, how do you feel?" she asked timidly as she looked away, the scabbed over wound on his scalp caused her to feel a little ashamed. 'Why do I feel this way? He was wrong, not me.'

"Reborn," he responded with an enigmatic smile. "Now, summon the Royal Tailor. We're going to be busy for a bit."

Imowen decided it was best not to let this enigmatic man see her confused face again as she moved to do as he commanded. He seemed to enjoy every moment that she let it show. Soon the Royal Tailor appeared and the king gave his orders. She was further shocked as he ordered the tailor to make her a new wardrobe as befitting her new station.

"If I may be so bold, highness, what station would that be?" the tailor asked as politely as he could, he knew better than to get involved, but the more gossip he had the more time he could spend in the kitchen with the maids.

Those brown eyes turned chill again and a malicious glint crossed over. "She is important to me. You would do well to recall your place, tailor."

The tailor had never seen such a look from his majesty before. He was one of the favored of his subjects, the king was always having new clothes made. 'It must be this girl's fault,' he thought crossly. Still, he did his utmost to diligently create her new wardrobe. This was his craft after all, and no amount of unpleasantry would get in the way of creating gorgeous clothes.

While Imowen was being measured, Dagon had summoned another of the maid-servants. He had her begin drawing a bath for himself and for Imowen as well as finding his seneschal and telling him to hold off all of his Kingly duties for the day due to 'fatigue.' He had already wiped away the blood from the previous night and when queried if he needed the Royal Physician, he shooed them away with a quick retort of them minding their own status. He made sure to have a bit of wine spilled by the vase to make them believe he had drunkenly tripped and ran into it. It could never be known what Imowen had done. Even Imowen herself had been surprised when he covered the incident for her. She truly did feel at a loss when it came to his majesty. 'Has he truly changed? Or is he some other person entirely?'

The morning breezed by as she was moved about, to and fro by maids and the assistants to the tailor. She was like a lost kitten trying to find its mother as she would attempt to move this way or that only to be grabbed and repositioned. Certainly not used to all of the commotion for her sake or all of the attention that was paid to her, she even started feeling the deference the other maids were having towards her. They were calling her 'M'lady' and 'Young Miss,' as well as making other pleasant comments to her. It was completely different to how they would treat her before. When she found herself relaxing in the steaming bath, she figured that maybe the life of a consort would not be too bad, and if her king kept on with this routine of caring for her, maybe he did deserve 'that' kind of reward.

While Imowen was beside herself with bliss, Lord Dagon had made his way down to the lower levels of his castle. It was bigger than he thought it would be, given the nature of his run down kingdom. He imagined that it was a glorious place in the past. 'We must return it to this level of glory. All in your name, my goddess. Then, on to my mission.' As he mused and plotted, he found himself at his destination. The Treasury. It took him quite a while to find what he was looking for. 'Perfect.'

The rest of the day he spent relaxing and enjoying the mere presence of a woman again. It had been too long since he had allowed himself this luxury. The scent of a young maiden filled his chambers and he discovered that this was something he had missed dearly. Perhaps, life was more than duty. Perhaps... he read a book and began to contemplate the days ahead as Imowen began to adjust to her new station.