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What the hell was he doing out here? And why was he trying to stop Clyde? He was the one always trying to get him to ‘discipline’ me more.“This is none of your damn business! Give that back to me and go attend to your own wives.” Clyde growled.“I will not give this back until you’re sober enough to use it with a clear head. I am looking out for you brother.” I heard footsteps and the barn door slam shut. Clyde mumbled some curses as he stood, body swaying at the effort of trying to remain balanced. I gasped as he fell on me, he leaned his head against the back of mine.“Why do you make me do these things to you Skye? Why can’t you be a good wife and do as you’re told?” he asked, words slurring. I pulled on the restraints again, chains rattled at my futile attempts. When I didn’t reply his hands grabbed my arms, squeezing until I was sure he’d break them.“Why can’t you just love me?” he yelled. He was angry, but underneath that he sounded genuinely hurt. He honestly didn’t understand. One even brought a horse, a very fine Arab stallion which disgraced its provider on the Throne Room floor.These live gifts were embarrassing to varying degrees. The girls could just be put in the harem and forgotten until the Emir wanted a bit of novelty. One such was built very much to local taste and the Emir thought she probably weighed three times what he did, and she subsequently set a record by wearing white harem gowns for over a year. Even then she was only deflowered by a visiting Turkish diplomat.The eunuch chef was a problem, as the Emir had personally selected the chefs in the kitchens of the Triple Palace, including its harem, and did not have a current vacancy, nor did he wish to sow discord in any of the kitchens by bringing in an outsider. Finally he decided to install the man on the Imperial Voyager, the royal yacht, which he hardly ever used.The stallion was simply sent to the royal stables and embarrassed only its donor.There were other gifts, all of considerable.
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