The King's Choice (King's Choice)

Dijana pulled at the chains around her waist. The priests had informed her that they were for adornment only, but she suspected it was more for a show of submission. It was appalling, the way the virgins of nobility were gathered to come before the king. As Sacerdos of the Sabian Antistitas she was in danger by simply existing. Standing in close proximity to the king or his people was ludicrous. If she dared to use her powers as high priestess, they would know. Her people, the other priestesses from Sabian, needed her to continue to guide them.

How the beast of a king could pluck a woman for the taking from a gathering of strangers was beyond her. Unless the fates were aligned with him, he would never find a woman true to his heart. If he even had one.

Dijana had tried desperately to escape capture but failed. Her own mother had been the one to inform the high guards where she was hiding. The woman lived and breathed loyalty to the king and all that he stood for. Dijana found the man to be an intolerable monster and she had yet to even lay eyes on him.

Thankfully, her sister had managed to escape capture. It was hard enough being here. The idea of her sister being subjected to this sickened Dijana. She'd spent the last week surrounded by women who wanted nothing more than to have the "great king" choose them. It was disgusting the lack of self-respect these woman had. The way they went on and on about pleasing the king and giving him a child had left her on the edge of madness. She was no man's whore. Her body was her own, not a tool to provide a man she could not stand with a child.

Hoping to be able to one day forget this fiasco, Dijana had done her best to follow the lead of the others in respect to obeying the priests. Not one who normally obeyed anyone or anything, it had not gone over so well. By the time the priests were done scraping the hair from her legs, sex and underarms, she'd wanted nothing more than to geld this "great king" of theirs. As if that weren't enough, the priests had taken to twisting her long hair into tight ringlets and painting her face to the point she looked like a whore for the taking.

When they'd pierced both her nipples, she'd sworn to exact revenge upon them. The other women around her had looked at her in complete dismay. They couldn't fathom why someone would not want to be the next queen of Braluse. Dijana couldn't understand why any women would want the job or the man that came with it.

Dijana certainly wanted to meet the king but not for a chance to be his queen. No, she wanted to gouge his very eyes from his overinflated head for turning her into some sort of sex object. She'd grown up with a brothel in her village. It wasn't as though she hadn't seen the types of women that frequented those places. They wore similar amounts of heavy black eye makeup and tiny outfits. In truth, they actually wore more material than she currently had on.

Now, wearing gold chains and only a thin scrap of white material to cover her sex, she stood with her arms crossed, daring anyone to tell her to move. If need be, she would fight to the death before allowing the beast to touch her. She was no man's whore. Not even the king's.

The door to the waiting chamber opened and the remaining women flocked to greet the king's advisor. Dijana's lips curled into a sneer at the sight of it all. They were pathetic, each vying for a better position in hopes they would be presented next. Rumors circulated the villages that the king was an extremely handsome man. How this was possible was a mystery to her. In her opinion he was a tyrant and no doubt an ugly one at that.

The advisor was a handsome man though?tall, tan, and muscular. All that a woman would want in a mate. It was a good thing she wasn't looking for one. Dijana had decided long ago she would live her life for herself and no one else.

Andrija, as she'd heard the others refer to him, pushed through the group of women and came to a stop before her. Grabbing hold of her chin, he shook his head. "Why did you remove your veil?"

Dijana batted his hand away from her and stared defiantly into his face. "Because I wish to have no part in this exercise of barbarism. And I have no reason to be ashamed of the way I look. I care not what the man thinks of me. This is all a farce. Take one of the mindless ones who seem so content on dedicating their lives to a man they've never met."

The advisor's chest puffed out and he pulled her to him. "You think our king to be a barbarian?"

Rolling her eyes, Dijana gave him a droll look. "I'm not a woman to mince words. I said what I meant and will shout it from the hills of Braluse if need be."

If she didn't know better, she could have sworn that Andrija's dark eyes lit with amusement. "Come, it is your turn."

She dug her heels into the floor, but it provided little in the way of traction. He pulled her with no effort at all. "No, stop," she said, trying to take her arm back from his firm grasp. "Take one of the others. They'll go willingly."

Andrija yanked her through the door to the king's chamber. Kicking out she managed to catch him in the back of his knee. Wanting to celebrate her small victory, she smiled wide. He stumbled forward, taking her with him, cutting her solo celebration short. They slammed into the ground hard. Andrija took the brunt of the impact leaving her lying on top of his muscular body. He growled as he rolled her over quickly.

Dijana's eyes widened as the large man pinned her to the floor. He glared down at her with deep brown eyes and pressed his powerful body against her.

"You will respect your king." The look on his face was not kind and the tone of his voice was harsh. Still, she didn't fear him.

"He is not my king," Dijana spat back at him.