The First Day of the Red Moon Festival. The streets of the Capital were crowded with people from all over the country, as they all gathered near the Palace to celebrate. For the Dragon Empire, the Red Moon Festival was one of the biggest celebrations of the year, held to flaunt its power and wealth to the neighboring kingdoms. Every wealthy person in the country waited for this day, so they could display their riches, and those who weren’t as prosperous found creative ways to appear to be. Warriors in shiny armor, officials in pretty carriages, women dripping in lavish jewelry, and even children in their best attire. If one had any assets, he was to proudly display them, or else, hide in shame. For in the Dragon Empire, money and possessions meant power and power was everything.  In the middle of the crowd were those no one noticed, those no one cared for, following their masters with their eyes glued to the ground. Slaves.  Lines of slaves followed the processions of their masters in pitiful silence. Walking like shadows, the only sounds that could be heard were the clanking of their chains and shackles with each step they took. Among them, one young slave woman's eyes were not downcast like the rest. Hers were fixated on the blinding gold of the Palace roof.  The Palace. Earth's very own piece of Heaven. And while the people of the Capital may have been rich and powerful, there was a higher power above them all; the Emperor. Sovereign to all, the Emperor was the almighty, considered a living deity among mortals. With unrivaled power, he governed the country with an iron fist. No matter what, his word was law. The Emperor never wanted for anything, as everything in the country was his already. He was loved, and worshiped by his people, but most importantly they knew to fear him. And on this Red Moon Festival, the Holy Gates of the Imperial Palace would be opened to those deemed worthy.  A Palace envoy had gone out ten days earlier to deliver the coveted red envelopes; an invitation that any man would kill for. The slave girl had watched her master hope and pray for this letter to arrive at his door. He was a Senior Minister, but even his seat at the court could not be guaranteed. He was so stressed that he had been treating his household even worse than usual; his concubines, his servants, and especially his slaves. The girl had a fresh lesion on her back, attesting to his restlessness. Even now, she could still feel the stinging burn of the whip. Finally, the letter had come. So on the first day of the Red Moon Festival, the old Minister was headed to the Palace in an expensive-looking carriage escorted by his entourage. Seven of his favorite concubines followed in their own carriages, accompanied by their attendants, while twenty slaves walked behind them.  The young female didn’t care for all the festivities around her. They walked past delicious smelling food stalls that awoke the painfully empty stomachs of the slaves. Hers was empty too, but it hardly bothered her. She was used to the dull ache of prolonged hunger. She ignored the shops, the food, even the common people admiring their procession, and continued walking.  As usual, the Minister was welcomed to the Palace. He casually discussed the upcoming events of the festival with his peers and showed off his young and beautiful concubines. For the commoners who could not enter the Palace, the festival was celebrated with grand parties held at the houses of the wealthy, and street shows and fairs. But for the chosen ones, many spectacular events and shows were to be displayed in the Palace’s Grand Arena. The large plaza, built like a Colosseum, was big enough to seat a few thousand people. A portion of it had been cordoned off from the rest; a special box, facing south, was richly and lavishly decorated, waiting to welcome the Emperor, his family, and their attendants. The slave girl had only heard rumors about what takes place in the large arena. Heavenly dances, chariot races, warrior fights, displays of mythical and bizarre creatures, elite performers… Anything that could not be witnessed by commoners was to be displayed for the Emperor and the most honorable guests of the Palace during the seven days of the festival.  For the first three days, she followed her master, attending to one of his concubines as usual. She didn’t witness any of the shows, staying in the chambers to clean and await orders, speaking to no one. On the fourth day, the Minister’s concubine suddenly sent her to be locked in a cold cage filled with other slaves. They were simply told that they had been taken from their masters to be given as offerings to the Emperor. The young woman stayed there for three more days, with no idea what was coming next. On the morning of the seventh day, all of the guests waited with bated breath. The last day of the festival was the only day where, along with the Emperor, all six Dragon Princes had to be present. For anyone attending the event, this was the sole opportunity each year to witness the whole Imperial Family together, as not all of the Princes lived in the Palace the rest of the year.  No one knew which one of these young men would succeed the Emperor. He was rumored to have his favorites, but had yet to name an official heir. From the firstborn to the youngest, any one of the Princes could one day rule the Empire. Choosing which Prince to support and please was the most difficult decision for the aristocracy to make. Fear of backing the wrong Prince and losing their position was always present.  The seventh day held great importance, for it was also the only day of the festival where the guests could see all of the Imperial dragons. The sacred beasts were feared by all, the very epitome of the power held by the Dragon Empire. Though the Emperor’s Golden Dragon could be seen occasionally in the Palace, every guest was waiting for the astonishing sight of all the Imperial Dragons gathered in one place.  They started arriving, one by one, in the Grand Arena, each Prince was accompanied by his dragon. Three of them came from the sky, flying their magnificent beasts. The remaining Princes entered the arena by foot, their dragons following close behind them. The sight of the enormous, scaled creatures frightened most of the crowd, yet they could not bear to take their eyes off of them. Each dragon was at least eight times the size of a man, up to twelve or thirteen times for the largest of them. Two of the dragons were brought in cages, while the others were chained or muzzled. For each of these dragons, three to ten servants came to guard them, but the last dragon was led completely free and unattended. He wore only a chain collar around his n**k and he followed his master closely like an obedient dog. Leaving them in the center of the arena, the Princes, one after another, took their seats, all aligned on a broad platform beneath the Emperor’s throne. As the crowd chatted about the six beautiful creatures displayed in the arena, some of the Emperor’s sons joined the conversations as well. The Fifth Prince was bragging about how he had fallen for a minister’s concubine the previous day, and had eventually beheaded the old man so he could have them all.  “How many did you get in the end, brother?” asked the Second Prince with a sneer. “Seven. But I don’t need that many… I will only take the most beautiful of them!”  “How generous of you…” muttered the Fourth Prince, looking bored. “How about you leave some beauties for our third brother?” the Second Prince jested. “He has yet to take any women in.” “Not all of us need that much company, brother,” grumbled the youngest Prince in defence of his brother. They all waited to hear their third brother’s response, but were greeted with silence. He was the one who had arrived upon the unrestrained dragon. The enormous beast obediently stood still and the Prince’s obsidian eyes were set on the arena, ignoring his siblings completely. His brothers stopped chatting and followed his gaze. A hundred feet beneath them, a young man was introducing the upcoming show, the first of the day: an offering to the Imperial Dragons. Behind him, a large group of people were waiting to be sacrificed, surrounded by armed men. Any time one of them dared to cry out, the guards would lash out and whip them, cutting deep into their flesh. So the group remained silent. They were all condemned to death. Criminals, war prisoners, and slaves - each of them were condemned to die that day. Some of the slaves present formerly belonged to an old Minister. As their master had died, the people of the Palace had just decided to get rid of them, along with the other slaves that had been offered as tributes.  Among them was the young slave girl with emerald-green eyes. She had just turned seventeen this past winter, but had the manner and charms of a woman. She was a diamond amongst charcoal, beautiful despite the dust and grime covering her. Under the layer of dirt, she had very pale skin and was so thin that her bones were clearly defined and protruding beneath her dress. Her long, disheveled hair fell from her shoulders to her h**s, like a waterfall. Her face was beautiful, diamond-shaped with a small nose and thin cheeks. Her l**s had taken on a light pink shade due to the cold, which had also left her shivering. Her temple was sporting a cut crusted with dried blood and surrounded by fresh bruising. A remnant from a guard who had struck her earlier while pushing them into the arena.   Her name was Cassandra.

Amongst the terrified crowd, Cassandra alone remained completely calm and silent. Everyone else around her was trembling with fear, trying to avoid the gazes of the enormous dragons. The six beasts surrounding them were obviously intrigued by the large group, and two of them were already ferociously growling. It was a common and eagerly anticipated spectacle called "The Offering". The public waited enthusiastically to see the gruesome display as the six dragons would maul and kill people. None of them were even given a weapon to defend themselves because the beasts were considered as sacred as their masters. They were here to die in the most horrendous way possible, and solely for the entertainment of the Dragon Empire's finest subjects. They all knew it. Some had tried to escape their fate and were killed on the spot. Those who remained were terrified, but they had no choice. How could they hope to survive this? The arena was fully enclosed and the lowest stairs still stood about thirty feet above them. Any second now, six winged monsters would hunt them down, even though one alone would have been enough to wipe them all out. Someone from the Palace was announcing the upcoming entertainment, showering the Imperial Princes and their beasts with praise, pausing from time-to-time to let the crowd applaud and cheer loudly. Yet, Cassandra could not hear a word he spoke. Too many people around her were crying or desperately praying. Most had their eyes on the dragons, wondering if they had any chance of escape. Some girls were even glancing up in the Princes' direction, hoping one might be enticed by their looks and save them. In contrast to the hopeless despair around her, Cassandra was looking calmly towards the vast sky. It was a sunny morning with few clouds, but it was extremely cold. All she wore was an old shredded dress and chains showcasing her enslavement, but she didn't really care. Wasn't she about to die soon, anyway? Who would care about comfort or clothes now? Death was standing less than ten feet away, watching with six pairs of hungry eyes. All Cassandra wanted was for this massacre to end quickly. Years of servitude had left her with no room for hope in her heart. The Minister was a cruel and violent man, and she had seen and suffered much worse before him too. Cassandra had been a slave for half of her life, witnessing more cruelty, hardship, and death than a girl her age should. Even now, the tight cuffs around her wrists were leaving her in pain. She envied the dead who were free from all the torment and suffering. Thankfully, soon, she would join them.  Her eyes came down to contemplate one of the beasts. The large, unchained dragon was the calmest of them all. As she was not scared, Cassandra couldn't help but think that it was truly a beautiful creature. This one had completely jet black scales that shone like diamonds, and crimson-colored eyes. Unlike its restless peers, this beast stood still, nonchalantly looking around. It did not care about the scared humans close by or the loud audience. The magnificent dragon seemed to sense her gaze, because he turned his huge head towards the group, and his eyes wandered until they found hers. They both calmly studied each other, mesmerized by one another. She, a weak human, and it, a powerful beast that was meant to take her life. The exchange caught the attention of someone else. From his seat, the Third Prince took a while to find what his dragon was observing so intensely. After a few minutes, he finally found the skinny figure among the crowd, and watched her too, intrigued. The young woman appeared to be very frail, pale, and scrawny. She wore a ragged dress, her long hair a tangled mess, and chains binding her n**k and wrists. His fingers started slowly caressing the pommel of his sword. There was something intriguing about this woman that made it impossible for him to take his eyes off her, though he couldn't name what it was. It would be foolish of him anyways. That slave was about to die. So he averted his eyes and let go of any further thoughts of the woman. Soon, the speech came to an end and the speaker left the arena. Some of the slaves started screaming in fear as the guards left them too. The dragons’ cages were opened, though three of them were still chained and their movements restrained. hll was unleashed in the arena, and the crowd went wild. The massacre had started. Slaves started running, trying to avoid the predators. But, one by one, they were pinned to the ground by gigantic claws or torn apart by enormous fangs. The dragons were not even bothering to eat the humans. They just played with them, chasing the living and fighting over the bodies. Blood and screams flew through the air as five of the gigantic beasts massacred their prey. The carnage went on for a few more minutes before anyone noticed that something was amiss. One of the dragons wasn't acting like its peers. The darkest beast was walking very calmly towards a lone slave. That woman, too, was acting peculiar. Unlike the other slaves, she wasn't screaming, running around, or showing any signs of fear. No, the young woman was standing very still on the sand, her eyes focused on the large dragon that was slowly approaching. But the beast showed no hostility towards her, nor did it seem eager to attack. With few remaining slaves still alive, the other dragons started to settle down or bicker between themselves. Thus, most of the crowd's attention was drawn to the strange duo. Whispers started to grow in the arena. How was that woman still alive? Why wouldn't the dragons attack and kill her like the other slaves? Everyone in the arena held their breath, waiting to see what the Black Dragon would do. A hundred feet above, the six Princes were also watching the scene unfold with great interest. Their reactions to this unprecedented event varied. The Fifth and Sixth Princes were wondering how this woman escaped the beasts’ wrath. The Second Prince was annoyed. "Why won't they kill her?! Stop playing and finish that woman! Brother, have your dragon kill her!" The Third Prince ignored him, his eyes fixed on his beast. He was staring intensely, waiting to see what his dragon would do. The reason the others didn't attack was evident to him. That woman showed no fear, no sign of panic. To the dragons, she wasn't some prey to kill, maybe just a guard that had been left there. After all, this ‘hunt’ was just a game, why would they pursue a human that didn't play? There was no reason for them to care about that woman. Only the Black Dragon showed any interest in the slave girl. Almost everyone in the audience thought it would finally kill her as it slowly approached, but once it was close to the young woman, it became obvious that they were mistaken. Far from attacking her, the dragon was visibly curious and stretched its head out to sniff her. The young woman barely reacted, she just continued to observe him as well. What was going on? People were waiting, eager to see if this slave was going to be killed or not. The prior massacre had been completely forgotten; what was happening now was far more interesting. After a few more minutes, the dragon suddenly laid down, curling up around the woman like an obedient pet. The stunned crowd started whispering, a wave of shocked voices growing louder within seconds. Surprise at the exchange was evident among all the Princes. The Second Prince was, more than anything, infuriated. "That woman is a witch! Let's kill her right now!" he yelled. "How interesting... I have never seen anyone survive The Offering before, but to think this frail woman would be able to stand next to the dragons..." said the First Prince. "Enough! Brother! Order your dragon to-" Before he could finish his sentence, he was left frozen by the Third Prince's ice-cold glare. The dark eyes scared him so much that he almost choked on his own words and quickly averted his eyes. The youngest prince chuckled. "How bold of you, Brother Vrehan! Assuming you could actually give orders to the War God..." He was absolutely right, but that only made the Second Prince flush red with anger. It was a well-known fact throughout the entire empire that out of the six Princes, the third-born was the best dragon-tamer.  Third Prince Kairen, whose perfect partnership with his black beast had allowed him to win many victories in the East for the Emperor as a General, and had earned himself the title of War God. There was no man stronger in the entire Dragon Empire, and certainly no man that could give him orders. Even the Emperor favored him greatly as the prodigal son. That was not the case for the Second Prince, and so he chose to remain silent. The First Prince Sephir, ignoring the short-lived dispute, was still observing the strange duo below. "A witch...hmm... Whoever she is, brother, it appears your dragon is indeed under her spell. How interesting..." He turned to observe his brother's reaction, but much to his surprise, the War God's eyes were already back to the arena. Kairen was contemplating over the woman who had subdued his dragon so easily. His fingers were still dancing on his sword. The Fifth Prince, Lephys, noticed it too. "Brother Kairen, it seems like the dragon isn't the only one entranced. Could it be that the woman has also captured your attention? Judging from here, she isn't too ugly for a slave, is she?" "Isn't this the first time our brother is showing any interest in a woman?" the youngest brother, Prince Anour, asked excitedly. "Correct, Anour. Brother Kairen barely acknowledged any of the women he has been sent in the past. Well…other than to kill them," whispered Prince Lephys. "What do you say, Kairen? Should we ask Father to spare this slave?" asked the First Prince, Sephir. The Third Prince didn't answer. Instead, he stood up, his eyes still fixed on the arena. He was a very tall man, with tan skin, and large shoulders. A number of people in the audience looked his way, noticing that one of the Princes was standing. But he didn't care. The Black Dragon, still curled up around the woman, reacted to its master's stare. Suddenly raising its chin in his direction, the beast growled loudly and stood up. Reacting to it, the other five dragons started growling too, but none of them dared to approach. Cassandra, standing next to him, wondered what was going on. Was its master ordering the dragon to hurry up and kill her? She had no idea how they communicated, but it was evident that the dragon and its master were having a wordless conversation. All of sudden, the dragon turned to her and spread its black wings. In a split second, its large maw suddenly plunged in her direction, taking the chains that bound her into its mouth. Cassandra gasped in surprise. The dragon suddenly took off towards the skies, carrying her by her chains, rising higher from the ground and forcing her body to contort into a painful position from the pressure on her n**k and wrists. Thankfully, it only lasted a few seconds. She saw the arena move under her as she was quickly brought to a large stone platform. Some people in the audience screamed in horror, but the beast simply placed Cassandra there, releasing her gently to her knees. The young woman painfully caught her breath before realizing where she was. The Imperial Family's platform! Still feeling the Black Dragon's hot breath close behind her, she conscientiously raised her head, only to discover a man was standing directly in front of her.

Cassandra gasped. Her fingers stopped moving, as she realized her master's /cok was completely erect and standing tall under the water. "Don't stop." She jumped in surprise, as her master opened his eyes and caught her staring. She blushed and resumed massaging, but her hands were not as steady as before. The embarrassing silence and Kairen's staring were completely disarming her. No matter how much she tried, it was impossible to ignore both his dark eyes and his erection. Cassandra kept her head down and tried to concentrate on her hands, but touching him didn't have the same meaning as before. The massage had become totally indecent no matter how you looked at it! She tried to stop and step back, but Kairen's voice caught her. "Stay where you are." She had no choice but to obey as she blushed and tried to steady her trembling fingers. He was obviously doing this on purpose. The fire in his eyes could have consumed an entire forest. He didn't even smile or speak, he just kept his eyes focused on her, the young slave girl who was uncomfortably embarrassed. Without warning, he moved his hand under her dress, causing her to yelp in surprise. "Ma… Master," she protested, trying to pull her h**s away. "Don't move." She opened her mouth in shock, but didn't know how to respond. The Prince's fingers ventured farther, reaching past her p*****s. From under her dirty dress, he forced his way to her slit, caressing the innocent slave with no trace of shame on his face. Surprised by the warm, intrusive hand between her t****s, she gasped, unable to hold her tongue. "My... My Lord..." She meant to ask him to stop, but the words wouldn't come out. Her stomach was filled with something intense as his fingers caressed against her opening. Cassandra had no idea how to react. She was completely inexperienced, and he was just playing with her! "P...Please..." "Are you a virgin?" Already dying of shame, she couldn't even bring herself to answer. But her red cheeks and flustered expression were enough of an answer. The Prince tilted his head, his face still completely unreadable. It was as if he was merely testing her, yet his fingers left her unable to answer. She tried hard to suppress her moans, but his large hand was pressing and rubbing against her most sensitive spot, driving her crazy. She knew he could feel her getting wet and she wanted to die of shame. She was standing on her toes now, her hands on his wrists, trying to discreetly move away. Cassandra was panting when he suddenly pushed one finger inside her. Taken by surprise, she let out a startled m**n. She tried to muffle her voice with her hand, but it was useless as he started moving and stirring his finger both inside and out. His thumb pressed on her clitoris as his middle finger repeatedly p********d her, causing her to cry out. The worst part was that he seemed completely casual while he was subjecting her to this! She desperately wanted to step away, but he held her close to the tub with his hand confidently moving between her t****s and leaving her no chance of escape. "Do you like this?" His composed voice had her feeling like a little pet he was toying with. She had never even been touched by a man before, and now he had her fluids running down her t****s. Why was her body reacting to this man's t***h after seventeen years of innocence?! Cassandra couldn't contain her moans, and he was enjoying it. He found her desperate state, and vain attempts to hide it, extremely tempting and $exy. She was dripping wet, and obviously enjoying his finger, so why was she trying so hard to hide what her body seemed to enjoy so thoroughly? He wanted to see her cheeks flush with color, the sweat pool on her skin, and her legs tremble under his skillful t***h. He inserted a second finger, making her cry out. She was definitely a virgin... How had she remained untouched until now? She was young, beautiful, and very alluring. He kept going, pushing his fingers to make her m**n even more. She was covering her mouth, trying to stay quiet. He pressed his thumb on her little button, teasing her to get a reaction. Under her dirty, once white, thin, and ragged dress, her nuts had started standing out. Did she have any idea how alluring she was at that moment? Her hands gripped tightly onto the bathtub, as she could barely stand on her own anymore. Accelerating his fingers in and out of her, he pushed her further to the edge. Cassandra's t****s quivered as she whimpered. "Ma... Master, p... please..." Her eyes were teary, she couldn't take any more of this torture and embarrassment. She wanted to beg for him to stop, but her voice was no longer under her control. Instead, she was m*****g and panting heavily. She felt a fire raging from her intimate parts to her stomach, overwhelming her with new sensations she couldn't handle anymore. "My Prince?" A servant had knocked on the door, waiting for permission to enter. Kairen let her go, much to his annoyance, his fingers wet with her juices, and Cassandra immediately fell to her knees. She was dazed and trembling, her entrance throbbing as if she could still feel the Prince's fingers inside her. The wetness between her legs was impossible to ignore as she tried to compose herself and move her dress back into place. "Come in." Completely ignoring her embarrassment, Kairen called the man in. The servant didn't seem to realize she was there on the other side of the bath, still reeling from what had just happened. "The buffet is about to begin, my Lord. The Emperor looks forward to your presence." "I'll get ready. Leave." "Yes, my Lord." The servant left promptly, leaving the two of them alone again. Cassandra had no idea how to react, but Kairen left the bath as if nothing had happened. He grabbed a towel and started drying himself, and she wondered if his... member had gone back to normal, but didn't dare to look. Instead, she pulled herself together and grabbed his clothes to help him dress. Though she remained silent as she assisted him, her mind was in overdrive, trying to comprehend what had just happened. "Stay here...and clean yourself, too." Those were his only words before he left for the banquet. As soon as she was alone, Cassandra let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. What had just happened? She knew some men kept their slaves to have sx with, but... that was not quite the same, was it? The War God had surprised her, almost as if he had done it completely on a whim. But for her virgin self, this had been the most impossible experience. Within only a few hours, her status had changed from that of a sacrificial nobody to a Prince's slave! She pushed her hair out of her face, trying to gather her thoughts. Until now, the Imperial Family had never been something that she would have dreamed of seeing, even from afar. Yet somehow, she found herself sitting on the floor of the Third Prince's chambers, trying to recover from his little playtime with her most intimate parts. She looked around. Why did the Third Prince not have any attendants? He seemed to be the only one without anyone to serve him. Did he come alone and just leave them all at his own Palace? The room wasn't messy though, proof that the Palace servants were still doing some chores in here. What was she supposed to do now? The banquet would most likely last a few hours. Cassandra suddenly remembered his order to clean herself. Her eyes fell immediately on the tub. Would it be alright for her to use it? No one would punish her for using the Prince's bath, right? Cassandra undid her dress and quickly submerged herself in the water. The thought of washing in the same water he had bathed in left her cheeks flushing a vivid crimson. She could still feel the lingering sensation of his fingers inside her. No one had ever touched her there before! The concubines were always too jealous to let the noblemen even look at the female slaves. Cassandra had been whipped many times by her previous mistress just for crossing the Minister's path. She had learned to stay away from men. But there was no way to refuse or ignore this Prince who had claimed her as his own. Afraid someone would come, she bathed quickly, washing the blood from her back as best as she could and drying her long hair. After hesitating a bit, she decided to wash her dress too. As old and ragged as it was, it was her only piece of clothing. Despite Cassandra's best efforts to take care of it over the years, it was impossible to make it look like anything more than what it was; an unflattering piece of linen, shredded and left brown and grey from years of wear. Once Cassandra was done cleaning it, some of the dust had come off and only a bit of dried blood still remained. She sighed helplessly. "You! What are you doing in the Prince's chambers?!" Cassandra jumped. Two Palace servants had entered the room just as she finished dressing. Before she even had a chance to explain herself, one of them violently grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the ground. "You wench! Who is your master? Speak!" "Lord... Lord... the Th...Thi...Third Prince..." she stuttered, despite the pain. "You liar! Do you take us for fools? The Third Prince didn't bring any attendants with him, you lying wh0re! Show us your identification!" The first man ruthlessly slapped her face, before jerking her up by the collar around her throat. Cassandra cried out in pain as she was strangled by the iron while he read the inscriptions engraved on it. "Lady Lyria of the Green Narcissus Family... Isn't that one of the Fifth Prince's new concubines?" "It is. She belonged to that old Minister who was beheaded three days ago. I've seen her wearing the red dress. She’s quite a looker." "You little wench, did you really think you could escape your mistress while you were in the Palace?" They slapped Cassandra again, continuing their insults as they dragged her out. Holding her between them, they ignored her fearful pleading as they forced her through the corridors of the Palace, slapping her mercilessly to stop her gasping sobs and feeble pleas. She tried hard to hold back her tears despite the pain and agony she was in. They had no pity for a runaway slave. After being brutally hauled through countless corridors, she was suddenly thrvst out into the Imperial Garden, where a few concubines not attending the Imperial Banquet were drinking and partying together. Tables were set up for a moon-viewing, and a handful of servants were pouring wine for the ladies present. The concubines all wore elegant dresses paired with expensive and glittering jewels, each determined to outdo the other. As they ate and sipped wine together, they showered each other with backhanded compliments behind beautiful, fake smiles. The servants violently hurled Cassandra to the ground, at Lady Lyria's feet. Cassandra was petrified. Lyria had been her mistress for five long and torturous years, since the day she had entered the Minister's House. Though that woman was stunningly beautiful, behind the alluring face she was a cruel and malicious bltch. She never hesitated to whip her slaves, even without a reason. She threw tantrums whenever she didn't get attention, and cried fake tears to manipulate any situation to her benefit. The Minister had fallen for her graceful beauty when she was only fifteen, raising her from the modest position of her birth, to that of noble status, and she had been ridiculously arrogant ever since. She was truly as ugly on the inside as she was beautiful on the outside. Cassandra knew her wickedness had no limits, recalling how she poisoned one of her rivals merely because she was jealous, and how that same jealousy had led her to physically disfigure another. Being brought back into the presence of Lyria was a nightmare for Cassandra. The concubine glared down at her with disgust and turned to the servants. "What is this?" "We found her in a Prince's chambers, my Lady. She lied to try and escape us, but we saw her identification collar and brought her straight back to..." "Why would I care about that bltch?! She should be dead! I was tired of her, so I gave her as a tribute to His Highness! How the hll is she still alive?! Where was she?" The two dumbfounded servants looked at each other, both left feeling ill by the concubine's unexpected reaction. Lyria, on the other hand, was absolutely infuriated to have been disturbed while she was gloating about her new status to the lower-ranked concubines. Seeing Cassandra alive fueled her anger. She had hated the slave from the very beginning, and had sent her to her death to finally be rid of her once and for all. "She... she was in the Third Prince's chambers…" Cassandra was trembling in both fear and pain. Lyria's unpredictable anger was something that scared her more than anything. Her fear was justified when, without warning, the concubine suddenly hurled her full glass of wine at Cassandra's head. One of the concubines screamed as the glass shattered on the ground. A shard reopened the bruised gash on Cassandra’s temple, courtesy of one of the Palace guards earlier that morning. "You slvt! How dare you! How did you even survive The Offering?! And then, to hide in one of the Prince's chambers! You unworthy little leach! I will finish you myself. You won't escape death again! You..." She fisted a handful of Cassandra's hair and started jerking her head violently, as she screamed at her. But she suddenly froze. Everyone in the garden had heard it too. A dragon's angry growl, right above their heads.

He was tall, and his b**e torso was covered by a large, black fur cloak. He was obviously a warrior. Two large swords were attached to his belt, and out of all the Princes, he was the only one wearing barely any jewelry, and the least expensive fabrics. Instead, he simply wore black leather pants, large boots, and dragon scale bracers on his forearms.  At this man's feet, Cassandra appeared extremely vulnerable. Realizing that he was a member of the Imperial Family, she immediately averted her eyes. Why was she brought there? Would he kill her himself? Had she somehow offended the Royal Family?  "She is indeed quite pretty..." whispered one of the Princes. "Brother, what do you want to do? Shall we get rid of her?" "Just keep her, Kairen. You could use a few more slaves anyway." She shivered. Prince Kairen, as in the Third Prince, the Empire’s War God? Of all people, it had to be the most terrifying Prince! She bowed even lower, ready for a blade to slice her at any moment. But what were the Princes talking about?  A long and scary silence ensued. She waited, becoming more confused with each passing second, but it didn't seem like anyone was planning to kill her. What was going on? "Alright, enough. Let's move on with the next performance before I get bored. Brother, you'll do whatever you want with her later. Who cares about a slave anyway." The First Prince clapped his hands, and down in the arena, servants rushed to clean the bloodied sand on the grounds and prepare for the next show. Cassandra was still frozen, kneeling at the Prince's feet. She knew she absolutely must not raise her head in front of the Imperial Family, but the Third Prince still hadn't moved. All of a sudden, a loud growl took her by surprise, and she turned her head, just slightly, to see the Black Dragon still behind her. It was close enough to envelop her in huffs of hot breath and for her to see its large fangs. Suddenly, she heard the hiss of a blade. Before she could even move, the sword plunged towards her, and she prepared for the worst, closing her eyes. The manacles fell with a clang and her wrists no longer felt so heavy. He had severed the chain from her back! Cassandra slowly moved to look at her wrists. The iron bands were still around her n**k and wrists, but they were no longer held painfully together from her back. Her arms were now free to move as she pleased.  Her relief was short-lived though as he suddenly grabbed her collar, pulling her to his side. She didn't have time to struggle, as he roughly dragged her to his seat. Cassandra was shocked to be placed against his golden chair, but even more surprised to see him simply sit without adding a word. She was on her knees at his feet, her shoulder against the throne, but the Prince didn't even look at her, focusing back on the arena again. What was all that? He had placed her facing the arena so she couldn't even sneak a glance up at him. She was completely shocked and at a loss. Looking around, she realized she was the only slave on the platform. Aside from the Princes, only some palace attendants stood behind the seats, like statues, with no one paying her any more attention. Cassandra was breathing erratically, and trying to understand her current situation. Suddenly, she felt warmth covering her shoulders. Surprised, she glanced to the side, only to realize that it was a part of the Prince's large coat! Did he purposely move it so that it would cover her, too? Or was it mere luck? Her b**e shoulders were now covered by the thick fur, shielding her from the wind and bitter cold. "What is coming next?" One of the Princes suddenly asked. "Dancers! I heard this group came from across the North Sea!" It seemed like they had all forgotten the macabre show that had occurred just mere minutes ago. Cassandra kept her head low, silently praying they would ignore her for the rest of the day. As she knelt, frozen in place, she felt a hand c****s her hair without warning. It took her a few seconds to realize, as the fingers that gently played with her long waves were so light she barely felt them. For a minute, she was dumbstruck, wondering if she was dreaming. No one but the Third Prince was close enough to be able to reach and t***h her. His large hand slowly stroked her hair, almost touching her back. She could feel his warm skin flirting with hers. Was the War God really petting her like this? She could barely breathe under his t***h. She didn't dare to move a muscle. On the arena floor beneath them, a splendid dance performance was taking place with dozens of performers, yet all she could focus on was the faint brushing of his fingertips on her slender nape. Did anyone else notice the Prince's actions under the cloak?   When Cassandra finally dared a glance to the side, it didn't seem like it. The other Princes seated to their left were solely focused on the performances down in the arena, not paying any attention to her or her new master. Because this was her situation now, right? Within minutes she had become property of the Third Prince. It was almost as if he had collected a stone from the sidewalk. But instead of a stone, he had picked up a slave.  All that Cassandra knew of him had come from rumors. When it came to the Third Prince, the gossip mill ran deep. The Emperor's favorite son, he was said to be a dark, cruel, and merciless man. The Empire's War God. Was he really the one who, against all odds, had spared the life of a slave? Did he just decide to do so because of the actions of his willful dragon?  The beast was now peacefully resting a few feet away on a lower step. It seemed bored, laying down while its peers had been brought back to their cages, or chained and seated at the sides of the arena. Cassandra observed the magnificent dragon again, mesmerized by the obsidian scales. She found it more distracting than any performance, especially since she couldn't look at the owner of the hand that was playing with her hair.  Would the Prince order the dragon to kill her if she asked him to let her go? Cassandra didn't even dare to look at him or move. She was submitting to his hand, and the caresses in her long hair. A few times she shivered, not because of the cold, since she was now under the cloak, but from the contact of the Prince's hot hand against her skin. Moreover, his hand was venturing further and further down her nape, onto her shoulders. He wasn't touching only her hair anymore. His fingers were now moving further down, and she felt embarrassed.  She had never been touched like this by a man before. Slaves were not concubines, nor were they worthy to even be seen as women. They were often dirty and poorly dressed. Unlike the noblewomen who went to extreme lengths to have the prettiest dresses, jewelry, and the most expensive make-up available. Cassandra never had any of those luxuries, but she possessed a natural beauty that even years of enslavement and abuse could not take from her. Like a flower in a bed of weeds, she had managed to stay beautiful. She was tall and thin, with pale skin that had been permanently scarred by a whip in several places. Her brests were not large, but still round and full enough to make her look feminine. Had she been fed properly, she would have had a beautiful silhouette. But despite the years of malnourishment, the graceful beauty of her face was undeniable. She had large green eyes, a small nose, and thin but full l**s. A pure, fragile beauty - like a water lily. As the afternoon passed, Cassandra gradually grew accustomed to the Prince's t***h. She couldn't ignore it, but she didn't shiver or overthink it anymore. After a dozen performances, the Prince suddenly stood up. "Brother?" asked the youngest prince. But Kairen didn't bother to answer. Instead, he simply left his seat. Cassandra, wondering for a second if she should follow, decided it would be better than to stay with the other five Princes on the platform she had no reason being on to begin with. Leaving the balcony, the Third Prince walked through the many corridors so fast that she could barely keep up. To her surprise, the War God's quarters were located in the farthest wing of the Palace. By the time they arrived, she was exhausted.  He opened the double doors, revealing a very simple room, by a Prince's standards, that is. But to Cassandra, that place was still unbelievably large and luxurious with a canopy bed, large enough to welcome four people, and adorned in silk sheets. There were also two chairs and a table made of redwood, one of the most expensive and valuable materials, an empty desk, a wardrobe containing a warrior's armor, and a bath. Cassandra was shocked by how b**e the room was. Had it just been prepared to welcome him during his stay during the festival? She had heard each Prince lived in his own Palace after all. Kairen left his large fur cloak on one of the chairs and massaged his n**k. Cassandra suddenly realized that she was his only attendant! Did he come without any slaves or servants?  The War God sighed. "I want to take a bath." These were the first words he had spoken to her. Despite her surprise, Cassandra's years in slavery had her obeying right away. Leaving the room, she found the first palace servant she could and asked them for hot water to be prepared for the Third Prince, as well as several herbs for the water. The servant, not knowing the slave girl, was inclined to whip her and send her back where she belonged, but her words of "Third Prince" had the impulse stuck in his throat. If there was one man no one wanted to anger, it was the Third Prince. So, after a doubtful second, he nodded with disdain and turned on his heels. A few minutes later, Cassandra was busy pouring the hot water into the bath along with a few herbs she had ordered.  "What are those?" The young woman looked at him, meaning to answer, only to realize her master was undressing right in front of her! She only had a glance at the warrior's impressive musculature before she shyly looked down, yet the image was surely engraved in her mind. A War God, indeed! She blushed while answering.  "Those are medicinal herbs to... to relieve fatigue and muscle pain, my Lord." Kairen frowned. How did this woman know of his strained muscles? He never showed any weakness. Is it because of the way he had stretched once they had entered the privacy of his quarters? As he pondered this, he realized his slave was looking down again with a flush of red in her cheeks. He snickered while entering the bath. Had she never seen a n@ked man before? "Do you need more water, my Lord?" "Come here." Hesitantly, Cassandra walked the few steps back towards the tub, trying hard to refrain from taking a peek at him. Indeed, having served only women before, she was totally disarmed while facing a grown man's body. Kairen's body wasn't merely handsome. He was more like a dangerous alpha male, strong and imposing.  Watching her struggle to look away, he knew he was right.  "Massage me." "...My Lord?" But he didn't bother ordering again. A bit surprised, Cassandra obediently stood behind him and started massaging his broad shoulders. Her fingers were trembling. She was touching a Prince! While trying to contain her inner turmoil, she focused on her movements. She knew what kind of being he was. In a split second, he could decide to end her life. For the young slave, this was infinitely more terrifying than standing in front of wild, scaled beasts.  As she kept massaging, she felt his muscles finally begin to relax, filling her with satisfaction. She moved on to his left arm, using her prior knowledge of healing to properly massage every muscle. When she finally looked back at his face, she realized he had closed his eyes as if he was asleep, allowing her to breathe a little easier. Cassandra moved on to his other arm, skillfully kneading the bicep of the War God. She felt some pride to see that the medicinal bath she had prepared was so effective. Was the water still warm enough? She glanced down at the water and that's when she saw it.  Her Prince's member, fully erect.