Then their mouths met, and they soared together into that tumultuous world where only lovers are allowed. Their lips still joined, he picked her up and carried her to their bed. Cradling her with one arm, he drew the velvet coverlet back with the other and then placed her between the cream silk sheets.
She held her slender arms up to him, and he felt his desire quicken at the sight of her lovely body against the luxurious sheets. Her mahogany colored hair spread across the plump pillows like a floodtide upon the beach. Then he was astride her, his long legs with their soft golden down on either side of her. His hands played with her lovely breasts, touching with just the very sensitive tips of his fingers the smooth warm skin that seemed to vibrate beneath him. She placed her hands flat against his chest, rubbing lightly with little circular motions.
His eyes narrowed and he chided her laughingly, “Adora! Adora! You are such an impatient little vixen!”
She blushed furiously, but when she tried to turn her head away he caught it between his hands. With one smooth motion he thrust into her. “Oh, Alexander!” she breathed. “I am so shameless with you!” And he laughed happily. “True, beauty, but I am ever eager to oblige you in your naughtiness.”
Slowly her violet eyes closed, and she let her passions rule her, sweeping her away into a world of hungry sounds, sighs, and pleasures almost too sweet to bear.
Deep within her there lay the frightening sensation that none of this was real-that it was only a fantastic dream from which she would soon awake. She cried out his name and clung tightly to him, fiercely demanding reassurance. He gave it.
“Beauty, my beloved beauty,” he murmured against her ear, and she sighed contentedly. When she finally slept, he walked across the cabin and, opening a cabinet near the table, drew out a decanter of red wine and a stemmed silver goblet. He sipped reflectively as he watched Theadora sleep.
His first wife had been dead so long he could barely remember her. It had, at any rate, been a childhood romance.
His harem, left far behind in Phocaea, were of another world. He had married all his women to the most deserving of his lieutenants before turning the city over to his two eldest, nearly grown sons. From the night he had seduced Adora, he had never really been content with the gentle girls of his harem. He had determined to make Adora his wife one day, and Alexander would never tell her that the strange dream she believed she had had in Phocaea had been real.
The winds held fair and brisk and several days later the royal ship sailed into the walled harbor of Mesembria to be greeted by the cheering populace. The people stood on the shore waving colored silks and a small fleet of fishing boats clustered about the great vessel. From the rail, Adora had her first good glimpse of the city…her new home.
Strangely, it reminded her of Constantinople although it had been in existence longer. It was a walled city, a city of marble and stone amid which she could identify several churches, some pillared public buildings, and an ancient hippodrome. “Alexander!” she pointed.
He smiled down at her and then looked to where she pointed. Alexander swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. When he had left Mesembria the blackened ruins of the old palace had haunted him, sitting malevolently upon the crest of the city’s highest hill. Now the hill was crowned by a beautiful, tall marble cross, heavily gilded. It stood as a shining tribute to the memory of the Heracles family.
The ship’s captain spoke. “The city wanted to surprise you, my lord despot. The cross sits in a new park which, with your permission, will be opened to the people so they may pray there for the souls of your family.”
Alexander nodded, overcome. It was in that moment that Adora performed her first act as queen of Mesembria. “The people will have our permission, captain. We will so inform them, and we will publicly express our gratitude.”
The captain bowed. His fears for both his city and his lord vanished. Theadora was a gracious and gentle lady. She would rule well.
The barge arrived and bumped gently against the ship. Catching a rope, Alexander swung himself from the deck to the barge below. For Adora, however, a chair was rigged, and the new despoena of Mesembria was gently lowered from her ship into her husband’s waiting arms. Though his face was grave, his eyes brimmed with amusement, and she was hard-pressed not to laugh. Everyone about them was so serious, so carefully courteous.
The royal barge was elegant yet simple in its design. Two small gilt thrones had been placed beneath an azure-blue-and-silver-striped awning. Only one other person was aboard the barge, and Alexander introduced him as Basil, the royal chamberlain of Mesembria. Basil was a courtly older man whose white hair gave him a patriarchal air.
The rulers of the city seated themselves. Their chamberlain, standing, gave the command, and the barge moved toward shore.
“Is it always going to be this formal?” Adora asked desperately.
Alexander chuckled. “You have to understand, beauty, that receiving the new queen of the city, a princess of Byzantium, the daughter of an emperor, the sister of an empress-it is very heady for our people. They are, I am quite sure, terrified lest they displease you and make a bad first impression. Am I not right, Basil?”
“It is so, Highness. They want very much for the princess Theadora to like them and to like her new home.”
Silence descended again and Alexander noted with amusement that Adora’s brow was furrowed in concentration. He wondered what it was she was thinking about, but before he could ask, the barge arrived at the quay. He leaped to the steps and helped his lovely wife up. A beautifully caparisoned white stallion awaited him, pawing impatiently, and he saw a flower-decked, silk-draped cart for Adora. Beyond the end of the quay the first of the hushed crowds awaited them.
He turned to hand her up into the cart, but she shook her head. “No, my lord, let us walk among our people.”
His smile of approval warmed her. “You are the cleverest woman I have ever known, Adora. The people will take you to their hearts instantly.” He grasped her hand and they moved forward.
An expectant hum was beginning to race through the crowds that lined Mesembria’s main avenue, The Conqueror’s Path. Led by a troop of the royal guard, Alexander and Theadora walked to their palace-to the stunned delight of their people. A pretty young woman held a plump, rosy-cheeked baby, and waved its tiny hand at the couple. Adora took the baby from its surprised mother.
“What is her name?” she asked.
“Z-Zoe, H-Highness.”
“It was my mother’s name! May your Zoe grow up to be as good and loving as my mother was.” Adora kissed the baby’s downy head. “God’s blessings on you, little Zoe.” She handed the child back to its overcome mother.
The people of Mesembria roared their approval as their rulers continued to make their way around the city to their seaside palace. They stopped many times to speak with the citizens. Alexander was amazed to see Adora reach deep into her cloak pocket and offer the little ones sugared almonds. There were toothless elders smiling broadly, wishing them long life and many children. Adora blushed prettily to the glee of the old ones. The callused hands of workmen and the smooth hands of young matrons reached out to touch them.
After an hour they were prevailed upon by the captain of their guard to enter the cart. The procession was almost at a halt. Now more people could see them, and the cheers became louder. They were an outrageously handsome couple: the blond, blue-eyed Alexander dressed in the silver and blue colors of his House with the great sapphire seal of Mesembria upon his chest; Adora in creamy white velvet and gold, her violet eyes shining, wearing a small gold circlet on her dark head, her long hair loose.