Well, thank you to all the people who kept on reviewing, despite the looong wait. I'm definitely going to finish this story, no matter how long it takes (waves fist at sky). Anyhow, I may have some ratings issues. I still don't think this is tasteless though. If it ever becomes such a problem that anyone feels offended, or that I need to up the rating to mature, e-mail me first please. I might not change the rating, but e-mail the more adult parts to anyone who really wants it. Please review guys with complaints, comments, suggestions or whatever. Y'all have my e-mail address.

Kel was confused. She had been kidnapped, tied up, and transported across gods know how

many miles to a mysterious location. This was not the source of her confusion. Kel wasn't naïve.

She had expected beatings at best, more realistically to become someone's reluctant plaything. The

Game was not part of the program. Kel hadn't missed the prince reference by Galston, especially

since she had been ordered to call Ralston's father "Highness." What type of game was played by

good-looking princes with their female slaves? Kel fingered the collar around her neck and looked

around, shaking off her confusion for a more practical stoicism.

Galrand's departure had been followed with the arrival of several seemingly native servants, not

slave, girls. They had led her to her room down a long, high hallway, another surprise to Kel.

However, she had not been energetic enough to explore the room or the enclave it was in,

completely. In fact, she had been just awake enough to note the red silk sheets on her large, nearly

Tortallon style bed before collapsing onto it. She was only now, several hours later, able to muse

on her unusual predicament.

Kel sat up on the bed. It was unusually comfortable, she noted, with red silk sheets, a large number

of pillows and a squashiness that suggested it had a core of down. The room itself reflected the

bed. The walls were not tent, as Kel had automatically assumed from the sand out her carriage

window, but solid, and painted a muted white. The floors, Kel found, were cold marble, but

covered almost completely in ornately detailed rugs woven in reds, blues, greens, and golds. There

was no wardrobe to speak of, but at the foot of the bed was a large gold stained wooden trunk.

Over it was laid out silk underclothes and a light amber silk shift Kel assumed were for her. She put

them on quickly, glancing worriedly at the door. Stupid, Kel admonished herself. She was a slave,

but not bought (she hoped) for the pleasure of some perverted voyeur. Not that there was that

much to look at, she added wryly, glancing at her silk-adorned, but still virtually nonexistent,

cleavage. The door though, began to look very appealing. Kel walked over, took a deep breath,

and laid her right hand on the bronze handle. Instantaneously a jolt ran up from her fingertips to her

wrist and arm. Kel stepped back, surprised. The door however, did, indeed, open. Without her

prompting it swung open, but not by the magic that shocked her arm. No, the door had been

opened by a very handsome young male named Raston.

Kel gaped, before composing her face into blandness. I am a calm lake, she thought desperately, I

am a stone. Her thoughts were spiraling at an amazingly fast rate. Yes, a stone. No matter what he

did, and Kel had an uncomfortable inkling of just what he might do, from her talk with Galrand, she

would remain the same. If the game worked the way the portly man had informed her, she could

just refrain from saying his name and be released. She had no doubt that it would be difficult, but

she wasn't called the Yamani Lump for nothing. If, she realized with dawning clarity, she never said

anything at all, she could eliminate the small possibility of accidentally saying his name. Thus

resolved, Keladry of Mindelan raised her eyes to meet her master's.

Raston was eyeing her with curiosity. "May I?" he asked finally, with a gesture towards the room.

Kel nodded mutely and stepped aside. Raston entered the room gracefully, with the barely audible

swish of silk from his pants and loose shirt, which only barely concealed the bare skin beneath.

Raston, to Kel's surprise, sat on the floor against Kel's bed. Following the orders of a polite hand

gesture, Kel seated herself on the edge of her bed, next to her master.

Raston's sprawl on the floor did little to alleviate Kel's nervousness. Neither did his quick smile at

her. "My name is Raston," he informed her pleasantly. Kel nodded. "What's your name?" he

enquired with easy grace. Kel, not normally prone to emotion, was swiftly becoming angered from,

of all things, his questioning. Kel did indeed know men like Raston, Joren for one. Men who

immediately assumed that that their looks, money and charm would seduce everyone around them.

Kel, the assumed emotionless Yamani Lump, was having none of it. She stared at him blankly, with

all the expression of a mushroom. Raston raised an eyebrow. "Nervous? Theres no need, no one

will hurt you here," he explained with a slightly condescending smile. When still no reply came out

of Kel, Raston looked mildly concerned. "Are you ill? Can you speak at all?" he added, looking

annoyed. "I swear, if the old bats sold me a mute . . ." His voice trailed off as he reached for Kel's

throat. If he wants to kill me, I can't stop him, thought Kel, letting him. A dark red cloud formed

around his hands and sank into her neck. "Not mute, then," he confirmed with satisfaction. "Maybe

stupid then?" He again raised an eyebrow. "Or clever. I do appreciate a challenge. We train for the

game almost all our lives, you know. Only one girl, though . . ." Raston smirked. His charm still did

nothing for Kel, but when his full lips smiled at her, his chatter was the only thing that kept her from

losing her Mask and staring like a lovestruck court maiden.

"I'm to explain the Game to you. Fair play and all that. Maybe you won't understand, though." His

mocking gaze turned thoughtful. "Or I could just show you." Despite the terror she felt at his

words, Kel met his light brown eyes with vapid serenity. Then she felt a hand on her bare foot.

Surprised, Kel glanced down, and back at Raston, who's eyes were glued to her face.

The hand, which Kel noted was surprisingly calloused for a man obviously accustomed to luxury,

began to move on Kel's bare skin, caressing her left foot lightly. Raston's handglided up to

her ankle, continuing his light movements. Kel was having a little trouble remaining expressionless.

She was not ticklish, but meeting Raston's gaze whilst his hand moved on her foot was difficult. His

hand moved further, teasing the skin on her calf. She still met Raston's gaze boldly. Then his warm

hand touched her knee. Kel nearly jerked. Raston's eyes lost their mocking glint and darkened. His

fingers made little circles on her outer thighs and started to move inwards. Raston's eyes were

moving closer, just like his hands were, Kel thought, panicking. Her breathing was quickening,

coming out in short little pants she was certain Raston had noticed. His face came closer to hers,

finally stopping with his sensuous lips just inches from hers. "Say my name" he ordered huskily, his

eyes nearly black and his hand creeping up her inner thigh.

Kel placed her hands on his bare chest and shoved. Raston, surprised, lost his perch on the bed

and fell hard on the floor. He looked up.

Kel lost her Yamani mask. Her hazel eyes blazed with fury, and clarity.

"So," Raston drawled from his position on the floor. "Not stupid."

Please review! Sorry for the long wait between chapters.