“I can’t believe my luck. And here I thought I was going to have to teach you!” He grabbed her shoulders. “You are an amazing woman!”
Ayala was speechless. This wasn’t what she’d expected. “You’re not angry?” she finally managed.
“No, not at all. This is good news!” He paused for a moment and his face fell a little. “I scared you, didn’t I?”
Ayala nod
ded, tears threatening. Eiotan took her in his arms and pulled her close, holding her head to his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to.”
Lord Eiotan held her and she felt safe. She didn’t know where her irrational fear had come from, since he seemed to care for her and didn’t want to hurt her. He had been her salvation twice, refusing to see her executed for her wrongdoings. She finally allowed herself to relax in his arms, feeling his comforting warmth. He slowly released her, seemingly reluctant to let her go.
“Good girl.” He smiled. “Go freshen up, and put on that pretty sage-colored dress. We need to get ready for dinner.”
Ayala slowly left his side, not wanting to leave the feelings he’d stirred within her. She looked back as she walked to her room and he looked just as lost in thought as she felt. In her room, she quickly freshened up, splashing water on her cheeks, and changed. She brushed her hair and closed her eyes, sitting down on the bed for a moment.
What was wrong with her? Why was she allowing herself to feel for this man? He owned her, body and soul, and could decide what to do with her life at any moment. He spanked her, for God’s sake, and she had to submit because he was her master! She had to be more careful. She had never heard of a master loving a slave, and knew it could never happen. Not in the world she lived in.
Ayala opened her eyes and stowed her feelings away. It wasn’t possible to love him. She would be his slave, and he would continue to be her master.
When she felt ready, she left her room. She wouldn’t allow him to get into her head, or into her heart. It was time for dinner and she would play her part of a doting wife and nothing more. Lost in her thoughts, she waited for Eiotan.
“You look beautiful,” Eiotan exclaimed when he entered the room. Ayala allowed herself to smile. “Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, not letting herself meet his eyes.
“Shall we go now?” she asked. He responded by taking her hand and leading her out the door. It was time to welcome Cortés at dinner. She shuddered at the thought.
Chapter Four
By the time they reached the palace, it was already dark. The palace was surrounded with torches, lighting the structure with dancing, fiery light. The incredible stone structure looked much more imposing under the dark of night. Other couples were wandering in, dressed in finery just like hers. She lowered her head, just wanting to get through tonight without any trouble.
She let Eiotan take the lead. He led her through rooms covered in finery, fancy carpets covering the floors, beautiful drapery concealing the windows, elegant carved furniture in every room. Opulence was showcased in every possible corner. Ayala missed her small cozy one-room cabin. She had been with the other servants, but it was her own home, her safe place. She wished she were there now, instead of thrust into this situation.
They finally reached the grand hall where dinner was to be held. A massive table occupied the center of the room, big enough to seat a hundred people. People were milling around, and a quiet murmur began to build throughout the room. Eiotan and Ayala were directed to sit next to the head of the table. Wine and bread was served as the crowd waited for the dinner to begin.
Drums boomed and the crowd went silent. Everyone rose to their feet to give respect to the guests of honor. The king and Cortés walked in together, both wearing smiles. Ayala thought the king looked sincere, but Cortés looked up to no good. Her eyes narrowed as she wondered what he was planning.
“Welcome! Welcome!” the king said to the silent crowd. “Tonight is a celebration to honor the arrival of Lord Cortés and his men. Our home is their home, and we will treat them as our neighbors and friends. Please, let us welcome Cortés and his men with a show of our bounty. Please bring in the first dish.”
The king sat down at the end of the table, leaving a seat right next to him for Cortés. Eiotan and Ayala were seated on the other side, so they could look directly at Cortés. She busied herself by putting her napkin on her lap and taking a sip of wine. She felt as though Cortés had his eyes on her, so she actively ignored him.
The first course was roast duck in a sweet sauce. As the plates were served, she licked her lips in excitement. She could not remember ever having attended a meal this grand and just wanted to taste everything. Eiotan placed a hand on her arm, forcing her to pause. He smiled and brought his fork to her mouth, showcasing a loving gesture between man and wife. She smiled and opened her mouth, gracefully taking his offer with a giggle.
The taste of the food was amazing. Dish after dish was served, from wild boar, to turkey, to fish, to chicken, with side after side of corn, squash, and many other things. Ayala could hardly keep track of how many different things she tried. The men talked and she kept quiet, knowing it was not her place to jump in during conversations involving politics and money. She was lost in her thoughts, watching all the happenings in the grand hall. Musicians played instruments off to the side, female servants danced, wine was constantly being served. Laughter and smiles filled the room. Ayala thought the night had been much more fun than she’d originally thought it was going to be. Her eyes lingered over the constant entertainment.
“Lord Eiotan, your wife is a gem, a wonderful example of the bounty of this empire,” a gruff voice said, breaking through Ayala’s thoughts. She turned in the direction of the voice, slowly realizing that it was Cortés talking. Her gaze narrowed. Cortés smiled dangerously once he caught her eye.
“She is the love of my life,” Eiotan countered, waiting to see what Cortés would say next.
“What would it take to get your lovely morsel of a wife into my bed tonight?” Cortés asked. Ayala felt her mouth fall open, and anger clouded her vision. Disgust filled her to the soul. She couldn’t imagine him touching her. Bile filled her throat at the thought.
“I am not for the taking, you murderous wretch!” she said angrily. “I belong to my husband, Lord Eiotan, and no one else.” She stood up, pushing back her chair in a rush. “Excuse me, I need some air.” Ayala caught Eiotan’s eye before escaping the room, seeing anger in his vision, but she was too mad to care.
Wandering through the hallways, Ayala found an abandoned sitting room. Taking a seat farthest from the door, not visible from the hallway, she sighed loudly. She dropped her head into her hands.
What had she just done?
Chapter Five