Leyla

Leyla and Bhria spent most of the day together. Bhria kept her entertained as the long days in the Dralan's room with nothing to do started to make her restless.

"Why do you not ask him for something to keep yourself occupied with?" Bhria asked as they sat at the table and talked. "A deck of cards or perhaps a simple book. There are bookshelves on these walls, ask for his permission to read them. You do read, right?"

Leyla nodded. Her parents had taught her how to read and cook, even how to sew and design robes. She loved drawing as well, but had with her parents poverty only been able to draw with burned charcoal from their fireplace. She has always dreamt of having the colors of the rainbow to express herself with, but with the poverty in the land, paints had been hard to come by and afford. But she never complained. Her parents gave her everything they had and more, right until they passed on. Now she was here, blessed to be under the Dralan's protection. She wouldn't dare ask for more.

"I do read, but I won't ask the Dralan," Leyla replied and looked down at her hands. "I am here to satisfy his needs, not the other way around. Besides, I don't know what the Dralan would think of me studying. Behind my title, I am but a Bahk."

Bhria sighed understandingly. "Of course. I just can't help but feel..." She glanced up at Leyla and then a small smile lifted to her gentle lips, "that you were sent here as a blessing from The Blithesome Miss. I have no doubt you will do great things for the Dralan. You are not like the others."

"The others?" Leyla carefully asked.

"His previous Mihrs," Bhria replied and suddenly a shadow slid over her face. "When they were found amongst the Bahks in the villages and were brought here, their status instantly grew to their head. They became obnoxious and full of themselves over time. They started to kvetch over everything," Bhria hissed, irritation suddenly flashing across her face. "They thought that the usufruct they were given meant they could command us around like they were any better than us. The only thing that kept us from being them was the fact that they had been so lucky as to not getting touched against their will."

The distress in Bhria's voice has Leyla reaching across the table and clutching her hand where she had curled it into a fist. As Bhria slowly took a deep breath and calmed herself, Leyla gave her hand a little squeeze. She felt for the female.

"I have taken care of most of them," Bhria then continued after calming herself down. "And of all the Mihrs who came here, left or gave up their title, you are the first to ever command me to use your first name," Bhria looked up at her with wet eyes. "I instantly sensed a kindness within you that I did not sense in any of them. You are different, but in a good way. You are... pure."

Leyla felt an involuntary blush at the Kischmir's words. She had never been praised so loudly or so beautifully before, it made her shy. She was just a female like any other, like Bhria had pointed out; the only thing that separated them was their luck. Leyla had been fortunate enough to stay hidden from the Mihr hunters, while Bhria... Oh, her heart bled for her fellow female.

"You are pure, too," Leyla said and squeezed her hand again. With soft eyes, she smiled at her as Bhria tearfully smiled back. "I sense a kindness in your soul as well. Without you here, I do not know how I would've made it through today. I feel so alone and confused, but you give me strength, Bhria. I should like to call you my friend."

Bhria's eyes welled over with tears and then she nodded quickly, smiling so brightly, her purity shone brighter than the sun. "Thank you, so much. I will be humbled to be your friend as well."

Leyla gave a last nod, then chuckled and dried her eyes. "Then that's settled. Now let's dry our eyes and have some fun."

"Fun?" Bhria questioned as if the concept was foreign to her.

"Do you dance?" Leyla asked and stood up, pulling her friend up from her chair as well.

"D-dance?" Bhria looked nervous by the idea. "Uh, but, we, uh, we have no m-music?"

"We will sing and create our own music then," Leyla grinned as she took the female's hands in hers. "Do you know the old Dralan's tributone?"

Bhria blushed and nodded.

Leyla chuckled and then begun whirling around with her friend in the open space of the Dralan's bedchamber. "Then follow my lead!"

Dohmenic

He walked back to his chamber with a relaxed body. Those two females had helped. His needs had been satisfied for now, so he knew his urges wouldn't be as strong when he laid eyes on his Mihrisa again. He had been gone almost all day, the sun was dipping lower on the faded blue sky. It wasn't evening yet, though. There were still a few hours of daylight left. Hours he could not spare, but before he continued his work, he needed a bath. After spending an hour with two limber and willing females, his body reeked from sweat and other substances.

As he closed in on his bedchamber, a strange sound caught his ear. At first he thought it was a spectacle which made his inner alarm bells go off. But then... as his steps fastened and the sounds got louder... he realized it wasn't his Mihrisa being in trouble. It was... singing?

Her voice carried well through the walls and doors of his castle, his heightened hearing allowing him to hear it even though he was three halls away still. It was strong, yet gentle, a soprano that overpowered the other voice he vaguely heard singing as well. He briefly wondered who the second voice belonged to, but as his Mihrisa belted into the chorus of the song, his worries were forgotten. In fact, he completely stopped up and listened to her voice with closed eyes, drawn in by her beautiful singing.

"Heeear Ye, comth from afar,
Give thine blood, praise ye Dralan',
Rest his vein and rest his soul,
Give thine blood and praise the Sweet Miss..."

The Dralan could've sworn his heart skipped a beat. As his Mihrisa carried on singing the song that was sung at his father's passing, he felt a primal urge rise in his chest, a sort of adoration and proudness for his Mihrisa. Out of all the scandalous songs the people sung today, she chose to use her voice for praising his father, their old Dralan, and the Blithesome Miss in the sky. She was truly a female worth of feeding him.

Snapping his eyes open, he zoned in on the door at the end of the hall. He marched forward and didn't halt as he came up to it. The two guards who stood posted outside lowered their heads as he stepped through, breaking in in the middle of his Mihrisa's singing.

He found her and another female spinning around on his floors, instantly stopping up in fright when his presence entered the room, and instead they both quickly bowed deeply after a moment of pure staring. He hardly paid attention to the other female who was clearly a Kischmir, when he noticed his Mihrisa's flushed cheeks and heaving chest. She was out of breath from dancing and singing, and winded by his sudden interruption.

And now, as she kneeled on her knees, head lowered, he felt himself harden. So pliant, yet so full of spirit. How he longed to throw her down on his bed and thrust into her until he heard that voice sing again, only this time, she would be singing his name.

Clenching his jaw, he ridded himself of the sinful thoughts and steeled himself  with dominance. Even after an hour of illustrious fornication with two females, his cock still responded to his Mihrisa. How was that even possible? A female should not have such power over him. No, he needed to regain the dominance here.

"You, Kischmir, prepare the bathtub," He barked in a gruff voice. The young Kischmir instantly jumped up and bowed her head, muttering a quick 'yes, my lord', before hastily making her way to the tub where she began filling it up. In the meantime, the Dralan turned his attention back to his Mihrisa who still kneeled faithfully at her knees. "Arise, Mihrisa."

She did so, slowly, daring not to look at him. While the Kischmir busied herself with getting the water warm for her Dralan's liking, he took the liberty to glance around his bedchamber to see that nothing had changed. Then what was all the dancing in singing for?

Females and their ways. 

Sighing, the Dralan snapped his fingers once the tub was filled with warm water. "That's enough. Leave."

The Kischmir quickly bowed, shot a nervous glance at his Mihrisa, then scurried out the door. She closed it firmly after herself, while the Dralan walked up to the tub and began stripping out of his clothes.

He heard his Mihrisa gasp. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her spin around and turn her back to him, not to see him as he stripped out of his boots and breeches and lowered himself into the tub. He smirked a little to himself when he smelled the sweetness of her arousal in the air. He knew that he affected her just as much as she affected him, if not more; her innocence left her a craving unlike any other, a craving for what she didn't know.

- One day, he was going to give her a hard lecture on everything she was missing out on. One day. 

"How was your day, Mihrisa?" He questioned as he picked up a cloth and started cleaning himself. He could feel his Mihrisa twitch with every sound she heard coming from the water, and for the briefest moment, he contemplated whether or not he should ask her to help. It wouldn't be a violation of her status. He simply just feared that if she got so close to him while he was naked, he would not be able to control himself. Especially if she  started touching him.

"My day was l-lovely, my lord," His Mihrisa stuttered. She was so nervous, the air was fermented with her innocence and arousal.

"You were singing just before," He stated, clearly making her blush if going by how the air changed and the heat coming off her got thicker.

Nervously, he heard her gulp before she answered, "Y-yes, my lord."

"Where did you learn to do so?"

He heard her swallow heavily again. "I-I, my... my mother taught me. She always hoped I could attract a male that way."

She had not only attracted a male, but the Dralan himself. But even without her voice, she could attract even the high priests, who were sworn to celibacy, and have them crawling on their knees for merely getting to touch her beauty. Her golden hair and porcelain skin were not unlike any he had ever seen. For a Bahk, her skin was so fine, untouched by the sun. It made him cogitate exactly how much she had been forced to hide from the Mihr hunters.

The Dralan rinsed his hair by pouring the pitcher of water over his head, then cleared his eyes from the excess. He swiped back his mane of hair and then arose from the tub and reached for a towel. His ears caught the sound of his Mihrisa gasping softly, but he sensed no movement from her, meaning she was keeping herself from sneaking a peak. He admired her strength. If the roles had been reversed, he knew he would not have showed her the same privacy.

"Do you know what a Bhrakla Aurua is?" The Dralan then decided to ask when a pleasant idea formed in his mind. He could just picture it now and wondered why he hadn't considered it the moment he first heard her.

"I... I am not sure," His Mihrisa hesitantly replied. He sensed that she might have had an idea regarding the matter, but was afraid to explain it the wrong way.

"It's a ceremony wherein the recent birth of a young gets mated to another young," The Dralan patiently explained while he dried himself. "It's customary for a male of rank to have this ceremony at his birth and that the Dralan is to choose his Sahl Amorsa."

He sensed his Mihrisa nod and suck in a breath, but she held her tongue to let him continue.

"Such a ceremony will take place in my castle in under a week," He announced, before walking up to his wardrobe to pull out a fresh pair of black breeches and a dark blue shirt. He begun dressing while he continued to explain, "People from all over Drala will be invited and they will be expecting entertainment and good music. At the joining of the two youngs, it is tradition that a hymn be sung, preferably by a female with a blessed voice."

Heat erupted in a circle from his Mihrisa when the meaning of his words caught on. Sweating and blushing, he noticed his Mihrisa squirm nervously in her spot as she tried to stutter something. "I, uh, I--"

"I want you to be the one to sing the hymn," He commanded in a voice that told her that arguing was out of the question. "I will make sure you get the lyrics for the hymn so you can practice it. You will be representing your Dralan when you stand up on that stage, remember that. I expect you to excel, Mihrisa."

He heard her gulp so loudly, it sounded like she swallowed her whole tongue. Her anxiety prickled in the air like a sour grape, but he stood firm in his choice. His Mihrisa would sing for his friends and allies so they could understand that his reign upon this throne remained as strong as her voice. The hymn not only represented the gathering of two mates, but the gathering of the people and the passion of love tying them all together. While the Dralan had never been a fan of romance, it was exactly what the people needed in times as dire as these; a voice of beauty to remind them that they were still strong.

That was what this Bhrakla Aurua would campaign. Nothing could go wrong that night.

"Now," The Dralan said as he fixed his belt around his hips and tightened it safely. "I will return in a few more hours. I'll expect our food to be prepared by then." He turned and looked at his Mihrisa who was still too frozen in mortification to move. Smirking a little, he sauntered up to her, his steps slow and filled with dominance. As he stopped behind her, he heard his Mihrisa's breath catch in her throat, especially when he brushed a simple finger over a curly lock that had escaped her braid. He tucked it behind her ear and then simply admired her trembling petite frame. "Is there anything you need before I go?"

His Mihrisa let out a soft puff of air, but then with a shaky voice opened her mouth, "I... I... was wondering... might I humbly and respectfully a-ask the Dralan f-for... a white rose?"

The request blew him away for a moment. A white rose was the holy symbol to which one related The Blithesome Miss. The rose was used as a tool in prayers, a gateway to channel their thoughts through to their holy Mother in the sky. The white represented the purity of which she represented and the rose stood for all the beauty that was the nature she had created; above them all, the rose was the prettiest.

For his Mihrisa to ask for a white rose, it meant she wished to pray. An act so simple was the only thing she wished of him. The only thing she wanted. His other Mihrs had tried demanding jewelry and expensive robes to play royalties with, which he had denied them strong-handedly. He had always thought that females should only be given the bare minimum, but with his Mihrisa... she could have asked him to deliver a dragon to the tips of her feet and he would probably have searched his kingdom high and low for a winged beast.

- But all she asked for was a white rose to pray tribute to the Blithesome Miss.

Heat coursed through his body like a raging storm. A surge so powerful it nearly resulted in his fangs extending and his cock to harden. This female... she was so perfect. He was beginning to think she could do no wrong. Had she truly been handcrafted by The Blithesome Miss as a gift for him? Because it sure felt like it.

"Dahna," He whispered, leaning in to her ear. He noticed her shiver and saw goosebumps rise on her exposed skin as his breath fanned across it. "I will make sure a white rose is delivered to you within the hour, along with fresh water for your return from the heavens." Fresh water so that when she had entered the Sweet Miss's realms and come back down, she would not be parched from her spiritual journey.

"T-thank you, my lord," His Mihrisa gently whispered, just barely audible. "The Dralan is most gracious."

His lips curved up in a little smile as she lowered her head further, even if she was standing back to him. He admired her slender neckline that led up to that ear he wanted to bite. But most of all, the vein that ran just below it.

"I will be back to feed later," He then gruffly replied and took a step back, turning for the door. He needed to leave before lust overpowered him and rendered him careless. "I will see you then."

And with that, he left his Mihrisa standing there shaking, but he feared if he did not, he might just jump her perfect being.