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You…have beautiful hair." My hands itch at my sides. I wonder if he'll let me braid it. The practice of braiding a barbarian man's hair was very sacred; the longer the hair of the barbarian, the greater the warrior.

He stiffly nods his head as he relaxes. "Alright."

I blink. I don't know if I've heard him right, or if I'm just hallucinating or dreaming. But I'm not. I touch his hair, his long glorious black hair, and separate it into three pieces. I'm in awe. The men in my kingdom had short hair or greasy hair tied back into little ponytails behind their heads.

When I begin to braid, a question enters my mind. "Abigor, do you know what the Silvertongue is?" I ask him. Cordell had told me that the barbarians were in possession of the Silvertongue and that was why he wanted to travel there, to decipher the Book of Azazel with it and gain world domination.

I can tell he wasn't expecting the question to come up. He drops the jewel he was inspecting in shock. "How you know about 'dat, kadan daya?" he asks me.

I twist his hair tightly, nervous about answering. I think of my words, and how to say them carefully. "Um, well…there was this man back in my village that always used to talk about the Silvertongue and the Book of Azazel. He said that the Silvertongue was here, in the barbarian kingdoms. He said that you were the one that possessed it."

Abigor is tense again, the subject making him uncomfortable. "The Book of Azazel is a force to be reckoned wit'," he growls. "Not good, Elizabella. Not good."

I continue to braid his hair. He clenches a chain so tightly in his hand that one of the golden loops bends right in his hands. "Is it true that you really have the Silvertongue with you?" I ask him. "Or were they all bluffing when they said that?"

It takes him a moment to answer me. "Of course I have the Silvertongue with me," he whispers. He nods towards a small wooden box hidden in the corner of the room, under concealment of a few books. "In 'dere. But don't you ever touch it, you hear? S'dangerous."

I'm nearing the end of his braid. "Okay," I say. "Do you have something to tie with?"

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a strip of leather. I tie the end of the braid and let it fall onto his muscled back. I notice the whip marks on his skin. My eyes widen as I run my fingers across them, pink fleshly scars from years ago. "Good gods," I whisper. "What happened to you?"

He sweeps his braid forward and waits a moment before answering me. "Discipline happened to me," he says to me. "My father whipped me when I was young."

How come I've never noticed this? I run my fingertips across his back softly and slowly, trying not to hurt him. He shudders at my touch. "Does that feel good?" I ask him, a tad humorous with my demeanour.

He does not say anything to me, so I automatically assume that he likes it. My fingers run over a scar. "Spirits, woman, your hands are like magic," he moans softly, tilting his head and enjoying my touch. "No masseuse does what you do."

I pull my hands back and his head slumps. "If you not gon' fuck me, the least you can do is 'dat," he grumbles, insisting that I touch him again.

I laugh. "Point taken," I say. But before I can really start working his muscles beneath my fingers, the door bursts open and there stands Three Horses in the doorway.

I snatch my hands away and jump back from where Abigor was sitting. Three Horses clears his throat and his eyes jump to his king. "Your brother got hurt during 'de raid," he says.

Abigor grits his teeth, he's clearly pissed off about being interrupted. "How injured?" he asks.

"A long gash on his arm," Three Horses replies. "He's in a lot of pain."

Abigor rolls his eyes. I suppress a giggle. "Stupid bastard," he growls. "Where is he now?"

Three Horses nods his head down the hallway. "In his corridor, my king. I told him you would come."

He narrows his eyes at the man standing in the doorway. "You told him…alright. Get out, I'll be there in a moment."

Three Horses nods his head and departs the room, shutting the door behind him. I walk forward, peering down at Abigor. "Iron Coyote?" I question.

Abigor firmly nods, tugging at his braid. "I should just start callin' him 'de stupid bastard," he hisses at no one in particular. "Always foolish, always greedy."

I pull up a wooden chair and sit next to Abigor at the desk. "Did you have to look after him a lot when you were young?" I ask. "Was he a pain then too?"

The beautiful man in front of my laughs humorlessly. "He was the one takin' care of me, Tiger Claw," he remarks. "I'm his younger brother."

I gape. Back in my kingdom, the older child always inherits the throne before the younger child. They always automatically have the privileges and the rights. But the rule only worked for males, and not females; meaning if a man had an older sister, he would take the throne before she did.

I blink and tilt my head. "How…how does this work?" I question. "Usually the older brother gets the throne first, correct?"

He shakes his head, glancing at me through his peripherals. "Not here, it doesn't work like 'dat. Before my father died, he said that I was the more suitable successor. My brother has frequent outbursts of anger that can result in a lot of people getting hurt. He also has a habit of…drinkin' a lot."

"So he just agreed to give the throne over to you?" I ask.

Abigor shook his head, his lips tugging up in a sly smirk. "No, o' course not. He had a fit, an' challenged me to a long sword fight. My brother wanted me dead. My father said that I should accept—he had faith that I'd win the fight. We fought, and I won, coming out of the battle with only a few cuts."

I'm confused. My eyebrows scrunch together and I bite my lip in contemplation. "But Iron Coyote, your brother…he's still alive."

"Good observation, Tiger Claw," he chuckles. "I had mercy on his rotten soul and spared him, just so he could watch me ascend the throne and see the dissatisfaction in his eyes. Just seeing 'de look on his face the day of my crownin' was better 'den sex."

I laugh in shock, my eyes widening. "That's awfully mean," I drawl softly. "But funny. Quite funny."

He gets up and heads to the door. I follow him eagerly, wanting to see the man that assaulted me beaten and bloody in his bed. "Go back to the harem," he instructs before turning down the hall.

I stop in my tracks. "Don't you wish my company?"

Abigor stops walking for a moment. "My brother does not wish your company."

I'm flabbergasted. "What? Why?" I shriek. "He's the one who assaulted me! I didn't stick my fingers up his private parts!"

I expect him to roll his eyes at me and continue on, but he does the exact opposite. A small smile creeps onto his face as sweet as honey in the summertime, and he throws his head back, a deep laugh bursting from the cobwebbed and dusty catacombs of his throat.

I've never heard him laugh so loud. The maidservants and slave-men all do a double-take when they hear him laughing, their mouths like O's and their eyes bugging out of their heads.

His big hand lands on my shoulder and steers me around. "Go to the harem," he laughs, the creases of his big brown eyes crinkling with amusement. "And leave me alone."

I'm happy to oblige, a blush rising slowly in my cheeks just like the sun in the morning. I cast my eyes down to the floor and stumble down the hallway to the harem, just like he told me to.

0o0o0o0o

"He did what?"

"Laughed!" I reply to Athenodora. "He laughed so loud that I'm pretty sure the whole castle heard it. I've never heard him laugh so loud before."

Evalyn shuffles forward and sits in our circle. "Okay, so we've never even heard him laugh before. Dances With Wolves doesn't laugh, dammit. Ever. For him, that's...like…out of line!"

Michelle finishes Sulpicia's braid before scooting into our circle. "Even Drinks of Waterfall doesn't laugh. And I consider us to be pretty close."

I frown at her. "That's because you lay with him," I interject. "He only likes you for what you've got."

Cassandra shrugs her shoulders. "So what?" she says. "That's what they all want. I consider myself to be pretty close with Three Horses sometimes. He can be so tender during sex. Aren't you giving Dances With Wolves the bits?"

My eyes widen. I don't want to make him feel embarrassed that he hasn't gotten into my pants yet, but I'm also kind of proud that I've stood my ground for this long without having him seduce or rape me. "Y-yes. Of course."

Cassandra rolls her big green doe eyes at me, her brown lashes fluttering. "Oh, I know a liar when I see one. You still look like a virgin. But what I want to know is…"

"How you stayed virgin for all this time!" Athenodora interjects. "Tell. Dances With Wolves usually gets down to business, no time for playing around. Puts it in, jams it for a while, gets her off first, then blows his load."

I grimace at the mental picture put into my head by the little blonde twig in front of me. The ladies "ooh" and "aww" in front of me, saying how considerate he was, and how men usually didn't get the woman off at all.

Michelle blinks and rolls her lips, tapping her long fingernails on the cold, stone floor. "Drinks of Waterfall is a good lover," she remarks. "He knows how to please a woman."

Cassandra gets a little defensive. She narrows her eyes at Michelle. "That's because he's fucked many. You're nothing special, and don't expect anything more than fucking from him. I should also know that he's a good bedmate."

Michelle gasps, looking down at the floor. I chew my lip anxiously. That was a little bit too harsh. "What she means to say," Evalyn cuts in. "Is that she just doesn't want you becoming too attached to him. I'm pretty sure Drinks of Waterfall has taken all of us and sampled us a few times. He's asked us all back more than once, and yes, he has his favourites. But they're barbarians, and they don't want attachment or marriage just yet. Especially not the king's guard, which he's a part of."

My friend nods her head, and I can see her eyes bubbling up with tears. I remind myself not to become too attached to Abigor, either. He's probably sampled the whole entire kingdom. He's the goddamn king, and he can have any woman he wants.

The door bursts open and in comes Arlena, a frail girl with bright blue eyes and light strawberry blonde curls. Her mouth is bloody and her cheekbone was badly bruised.

I gasp as everyone rushes to her aid. My eyes flicker to the doorway, where Iron Coyote stands, bloody bandages on his arm, which was cradled in a leather sling. He casts me a glance, and I instantly feel repulsed. He grins. "Someone needs to teach that whore how to suck cock," he grinds out. "Nipped me."

Before I can stop myself, I scream out, "Good." I'm seething and all I see is red. "Someone needs to teach you a goddamn lesson on how to be fucking human!"

He's no longer laughing. He's angry, clearly pissed. "Who's gonna teach me, princess? You? I'll fuck you for sure."

The whole room is silent as we argue. Arlena hides behind my body, clearly afraid of the ignorant prince. "Your brother will teach you, just like he always has!"

His eyes widen as he staggers forward,
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