As the youthful prince emerged from the embrace of light sleep, the initial tableau that unfolded before his half-awakened gaze was nothing short of enchanting—a vision of her bare, voluptuous breasts illuminated by the soft glow of the oil-burning lamp. The amber light played artfully upon the curves of her form, highlighting the ebb and flow of her chest in tandem with each soothing breath, orchestrating a mesmerizing ballet of shadows and silhouettes in the room.
With stealthy finesse, Raibod extracted his hand from beneath the head of the sleeping beauty, the fabulous brunette beside him to sneak out. Tenderly, he draped her heavenly form with a linen bed sheet, silently rising from the bed, careful not to disturb her peaceful repose.
As he tenderly draped a linen sheet over her slumbering form, a lingering euphoria enveloped him, the residue of the night's enchantment still vivid in his senses. Misa, the passionate and rejuvenating enchantress, had dedicated herself entirely to the prince, gracefully flitting around him like a butterfly in the moonlit hours. The jubilant echoes of their shared moments reverberated within him, a symphony of joy that refused to fade.
In the tranquil aftermath, the young girl's skin retained the softness and radiance of the previous night, a testament to the blissful interlude they had crafted together. Each touch, each shared breath, had woven a tapestry of delight that lingered in the quietude of the room, creating a sanctuary where time seemed suspended, wrapped in the afterglow of their intimately shared desires.
Raibod retrieved his robe from the nightstand, wrapping it around himself. Instinctively, he found himself in the open expanse of the garden courtyard, the morning sparrows orchestrating their melody while the sky held a mysterious twilight. Guards changed their posts, and the echoes of last night’s revelry were still lingering in the air.
The last night's event transpired fabulous hours of lavish indulgence, every moment etched into his memory. Such a memorable and unique happening every second of it was worth reliving.
Misa, with her soft, luminous skin, had exceeded all expectations, becoming the center of envy at the banquet. Misa, turned out to be such a passionate and refreshing maiden, rendering all her attention to the prince. She spoke whenever the prince wanted and said whatever he expected. She listened eagerly to his every whim, laughed at every bland joke, and became excited with every story, a perfect woman at last.
Indeed, what an emotional, loving, and intoxicated flower to behold. A beauty that impressed even the highest expectations. Not to mention, everyone at the banquet wished her company with their envious eyes, which was an added bonus!
Dancing, singing, and merriment had persisted into the late hours. After a hearty dinner and copious libations, his friends had departed one by one, some alone and others fortunate to have the company of a beauty.
Strolling half-waked at dawn, Raibod reached the courtyard fountain. Cooling his hands in the water, he splashed his face, attempting to quell both the remnants of sleep and the fervor of last night’s passion. A satisfied smile graced his lips as he recalled every intimate detail—the seductive nightgown, the cascade of hair, the tactile dance of hands, and the ecstasy of shared passion until the wee hours.
“May you have a pleasing morning, my prince!” Dara, the palace guard greeted him on his way to resume his duty at the gate. Raibod hastily draped his robe more securely, caught off guard by the unexpected presence after a satisfying night of debauchery. He couldn’t care less about what others may say about him, but this was Dara.
Dara, despite being just a few years senior to the youthful Prince, bore an air of maturity that transcended his age. Towering over others with an imposing stature, his physique boasted a commanding presence defined by sinewy muscles and a stature that spoke of battlefield experiences etched into his very being. A pronounced stubble adorned his chiseled jawline, hinting at a rugged resilience earned from countless trials. However, it was the conspicuous scar nestled in the corner of his eye that captured the essence of his recent exploits on the tumultuous battlefield—a lingering memento, a visible narrative etched on his visage that whispered tales of valor and sacrifice.
Unlike the other guards, Dara hailed from common roots, his rise through the imperial army marked by martial prowess. Raibod, recognizing qualities beyond nobility, had appointed him as his personal guard.
Dara’s greeting, however, shattered the prince’s morning bliss. “I hope my liege had spent the night in good health!” The prince, realizing Dara might be privy to last night’s escapades, couldn’t escape self-critique. “I brought it on myself; of course, Dara knows about my last night’s exertions,” Raibod thought. Attempting to mask his discomfort, Raibod replied, “Yes! You should’ve been there!”
Dara, offering a warm smile, inquired, “May you be healthy and in good spirits, my liege! Will you leave for the forest mountains today as well?”
The question struck a chord, leaving Raibod conflicted. “And why do you ask? Is something the matter?” Dara’s insightfulness prompted the prince to reconsider his plans.
Dara bowed, “Because I thought the nightly diversions may satisfy you enough to keep you from wondering about ponds and waterfalls anymore!” Raibod’s temper flared; he seized Dara’s collar, demanding an explanation.
“Forgive me, your highness! I did wrong!” Dara pleaded, prompting Raibod’s paranoia. “He knew from the beginning,” Raibod mused, regretting his naivety.
“What do you know?” The angered prince demanded. Dara, with a mix of remorse and concern, confessed, “I was worried about you. And that day...the first night when you suddenly disappeared, I followed your highness and saw you enter the waterfall through a secret hatch. Please forgive this lowly servant’s indiscretion!”
The prince looked at Dara, who had lowered his head with regret. There was nothing but concern in his demeanor.
Dara embodied the essence of a caring elder sibling that destiny had denied Prince. In their shared childhood, an intangible yet indomitable bond had woven itself between the two, a connection that surpassed the visible and transcended the boundaries of mere alliance.
As the sands of time continued their relentless march, the once inseparable pair found themselves drifting apart. The gulf between them widened, fueled by the diverging paths each had chosen. Dara had metamorphosed into the epitome of a model citizen and an exemplary soldier, embodying discipline and order in every facet of his existence. In stark contrast, the young prince, Raibod, remained a rebellious spirit, an insatiable force challenging the constraints imposed upon him, refusing to be tethered by the shackles of convention.
Despite the growing chasm, the original affection that had kindled in the fires of their shared past lingered as an enduring flame. It flickered beneath the surface, a silent testimony to the intricate tapestry of their intertwined destinies. Raibod, with his penchant for defying norms, and Dara, standing firm as the embodiment of duty and honor, bore witness to the ebb and flow of time. T
Lifting Dara from the ground, Raibod sought to rectify his aggressive outburst. “Does anyone else know?” he inquired. Dara admitted, “Only Farid! My liege! He also came along with me that day.”
Raibod pondered the enduring connection between Dara and Farid, a camaraderie forged through the crucible of time and trials. The two, friends and comrades for many years, had a knack for finding themselves in predicaments, though it was often Dara leading the charge into mischief.
Farid, an inquisitive nobleman with an unrelenting fascination for Dara, was a stark contrast to the conventional path expected of aristocrats. Their friendship had blossomed from the very moment they crossed paths, defying societal norms and expectations. Even when offered a coveted position in the palace's administration department by his father, Farid adamantly clung to his post as a guard, choosing to stand shoulder to shoulder, with his loyal comrade.
As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place in Raibod's mind, the prince contemplated the dynamics at play. "So that's how it is," he mused, recognizing the intricate threads weaving together loyalty, friendship, and a hint of intrigue.
Dara, sensing the weight of the situation, fell to his knees once more, swearing on his honor that their clandestine activities had remained shrouded in secrecy. Raibod, though seething with fury, suppressed his emotions, unwilling to inflict further harm upon his devoted guard. Trust, a fragile commodity, lingered between them, a testament to the shared history they cherished.
"If it was only those two," Raibod ruminated, his mind wrestling with the intricacies of the situation, "it shouldn't be much of a problem." A hesitant reassurance, grounded in the trust he had placed in Dara and Farid before.
"Be careful that no one else finds out," Raibod cautioned, a stern yet paternal tone underlying his words. His hand found its way to Dara's shoulder, a gesture both of warning and brotherhood. The streaks of sunlight painted a fleeting tableau, signaling the impending journey into the forest and a cascade of uncertainties waiting to unfold.
Comments (0)
See all