Ma'at and Isfet were both led to a private room where they could speak. Ri, however, was taken to the kitchens, which they passed on their way to the chamber, with two guards to watch over him as if he would somehow cause trouble.
Isfet closed the door and shoved down a board across it so none could enter.
"Clothes off, legs spread on the bed."
Ma'at's eyes widened. "Wh-what?"
He growled. "You heard me Bat!"
His body shivered, "Yes, Master Joktar," and he quickly divested of his clothing. Walked over to the bed and sat on it. Crawled backward and spread his legs.
Gulping, he watched his Master approach.
Saw him take a knife to a piece of root.
"Master?"
"You have lied to me, my dear Bat, and so you must be punished. It was not a direct lie, but omitting the truth to me, your Master, is still punishable." He peeled pieces off the root.
Trembling he asked, "Wh-what are you going to do, Master Joktar?"
"I will not tolerate any lying. This is a true punishment." He placed the knife down on a table and walked up to the bed. Knelt between Ma'at's legs.
"Please, no, Master," he stared at the offending root held in one of his Master's hands.
"Do you think you shouldn't be punished, Bat?"
With a whimper, he closed his eyes. "Lying is wrong." He opened his eyes, "I'll take my punishment, Master."
He gasped as Master Joktar brought the root to his entrance. Cried out when he thrust it into him and felt the strange sensation.
"I-it burns," he whimpered.
"That's what ginger root does. It'll only be worse if you clench.
"You're awful."
"I warned you, I'm sadistic, and you still agreed to be mine. I will not tolerate being lied to. This is a lesson, Bat. If you lie, this is the type of punishment to expect."
He felt like squirming but feared if he moved the burning sensation would get worse.
"H-how long, Master?"
"Until I take it out myself, you are not to remove it."
"Yes, Master Joktar," his eyes watered. He could remove it he knew, his Master hadn't bound his hands. But he also didn't want to know if worse would be in store.
"What you did omit in regard to the truth is quite big, my darling Bat." He moved a hand to brush through his hair. "Promise me you'll not keep secrets from me again."
He stared into the vibrant green of his Master's gaze. "I promise. I won't lie to you ever again. I promise not to keep secrets from you, Master."
When Master's hands ran down over his legs, he tried his best to stay still. He didn't want that burning sensation to get worse as it started to wear off, if only a small bit.
Master reached between his legs and he felt the slow removal of the root.
With a sigh, he rested his head back fully on the pillow near the headboard.
Tossing the offending root into a trash barrel he settled beside the younger prince and threaded his finger through his hair. "Bat, please look at me."
Ma'at turned his head and gazed into the green eyes that he loved so. Beautiful in their vividness, but loved because they were a part of Isfet Khaba Joktar.
"Are you upset?"
He shook his head and lifted a hand to stroke the back of his knuckles against his Master's jawline. "No. I didn't like it, but I understand, Master."
"You don't hate me for it?"
He shook his head again. "No. I love you Isfet Khaba Joktar. I'll let you know if I can't handle something, okay?"
Master turned his head and his lips brushed over his knuckles. "I'll have a bath drawn, it should help to rid you of the sensation if it still lingers."
"Okay," he murmured as his Master covered him with a bedsheet and left the room to get some maids to bring in hot water for the tub in the corner of the large bedchambers.
He watched them flit in and out, his face flush whenever one of them glanced his way with knowing looks as if he and his Master had just been fucking. That would have been preferable to what had taken place.
Once the bath was filled and the last of the servants left, his Master walked to him, flung the covers aside and lifted him up, carried him to the tub and settled him in.
"Master, you're quite strong if you're able to carry me around."
"You may not be small, my dear Bat, but I'm stronger than I look." He scooped water into his hand and drizzled it over Ma'at's chest.
With a soft sigh, he allowed the hot water to work its wonders. Every muscle relaxed and the burning sensation from the ginger root his Master had used on him ebbed away.
"Master Joktar, I hope your parents don't think I'm just going to let them take over everything in regard to the war."
"My mother might think that because you're an Omega."
"I don't like that sound of that, Master." He frowned. "You're not going to treat me as if I might break, are you?"
He chuckled and leaned in to brush a kiss over his lips. "No. You'd make a formidable foe, it matters not what you presented as. But you're not my foe, you're my beloved."
"If we are to wed, I hope you'd hold out on the claiming bite, Master." He lifted a hand to thread through his Master's locks.
"Why is that?"
"It would send me into heat," his face heated, "and would distract you from our current task, Master."
He took hold of his hand and kissed the tip of each finger and the pad of his thumb. "I can wait to give you a claiming bite if that is truly what you want."
His breathing hitched with each gentle kiss. "It's not, but it is a necessity, Master."
"Is there anything else, my dear Bat?"
"I hoped to plan an attack before having my cycle. It's the one thing that the herbs alone cannot prevent, nor the cramps that come with it."
"That you still bleed, I don't know how none have discovered you." He lifted a cloth and wet it before beginning to wash him.
"Trust me, it was not an easy feat, Master. Why do you think I took small trips, or if I didn't I feigned sickness?"
"And I thought you were being a spoiled brat to get out of your studies."
"No, but that was a nice bonus," he smiled.
Picking up a smaller bucket, his Master quickly washed and rinsed his hair. Lifted him out of the tub, dried him off and led him back to the bed.
"Stay there, my sweet."
"Yes, Master." He sank down onto the bed and his gaze followed Master around the room.
Blinked when the older man removed his clothing and stepped into the still warm water to wash, himself.
Watching him, his cock grew hard.
Licking his lips his eyes widened when Master turned his head to gaze at him. Saw how his pupils had dilated and his lips were drawn back in a growl.
Realizing he'd not needed to even look at him to know he was aroused because he could smell his arousal, had his body growing flush. Not only with arousal, but embarrassment.
Closing his eyes he gulped.
Hearing the slosh of water and soon thereafter a growl that grew closer his eyes opened.
Master Joktar had moved swiftly across the room, because he was there at the edge of the bed, kneeling down and reaching for him.
He was tugged up into his Master's arms. His mouth plundered as the older prince's tongue searched his mouth for treasure. Seemed to find it as his tongue wrapped around his own.
His hands moved up to clasp behind Master Joktar's neck. Their bodies flush against each other when there was a loud knock at the door.
"Isfet!" Called a woman.
Master Joktar broke the kiss and growled, "Damn it, my mother." He pressed his mouth against Ma'at's forehead. "We'll have to finish this another time, my sweet."
"Yes, Master," he sighed. Laid his head back against the pillows when his lover, his master, his husband-to-be let him go to go to the door while donning a robe.
He covered himself up with the blankets of the bed and tried to will his erection away. It was to no avail.
"Yes, mother?"
"Come down to the main hall, my son, let us plan the ceremony."
"As you wish," he glanced over his shoulder, "do you wish to help, Prince Ma'at?"
Queen Asha protested, "This is no concern of the bride."
Ma'at frowned. He did not care for that term. He preferred groom, but there were those who insisted on using a term he didn't agree with. However this was not his kingdom and he supposed he could humor his beloved's mother. They'd just have to have a second ceremony in his kingdom, the Kingdom of Nyte, after he had wrested back his title from his damnable uncle.
"I would like to be in on the plans."
Isfet smiled, "Then, that settles it mother, please leave us so we can get dressed."
"You know you're not supposed to be sharing a room before the wedding, don't you?"
"Mother, please."
"Fine," she grumbled and turned to leave.
Shutting and barring the door, Master Joktar turned back to him. "I've already had someone go off to find us more clothes. They should be here soon. Too soon for me to fuck you into the bed."
"Master, if you keep saying things like that, I won't be able to leave the room with how hard I am."
"A robe will hide that kind of detail," he growled and knelt at the end of the bed. "As you can no doubt tell, my own cock is ready to slam into you."
His gaze flickered down to where the robe parted and revealed the curve of his Master's arousal. Which inhaling he could scent and in so doing shuddered with need.
However, again, someone knocked on the door.
"That will be our clothes," he shook his head in exasperation.
Ma'at could not help but smile.
Batman could not believe his eyes and ears. Prince Ma'at, even after that, with the ginger root, was still in love with the sadist, Prince Isfet Khaba Joktar of the Alaome Kingdom. But then the man was confusing as he took care of Ma'at and showed a tenderness he didn't understand.
If only he could stop seeing all of this play before his eyes, unconscious as he was and trapped viewing everything from Prince Ma'at's point of view.
He hoped he'd awaken soon, to escape before the two got another chance to fuck.
Joker growled in his slumber. He'd been able to watch the past, but could not detach himself from emotion. Emotions which he'd long tried to quell and toss aside. Emotions which did little for him as he did not have his dear beloved, Prince Ma'at Yarğanat Batlar, at his side. And had long thought himself the last remnant of the Alphas and Omegas. Now he knew differently.
Worst of all was seeing his beloved naked and not being able to touch him. To soothe him. To make passionate love to him. Or even just to hold him in his arms, cuddling him close. It had been so, so very long since his arms had felt so empty.
