The Ambassadors

Anike is the royal artist, kept extremely busy by a demanding prince who wants every illustrious moment of his reign recorded in ink and paint. His latest task is recording the visit of the ambassadors from the country of Marana, long closed off from the world and only just newly opened. But when they arrive, and Anike catches his first glimpse of the exotic Maranans, painting is the very last thing on his mind—and all that could go wrong by falling for them the first.

Table of Contents

Book Details

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

The Ambassadors

By Sasha L. Miller

Published by Less Than Three Press

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

Edited by Michelle McDonough

Cover designed by Megan Derr

This book is a work of fiction and as such all characters and situations are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

Electronic Edition June 2011

Copyright © 2011 by Sasha L. Miller

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN 978-1-936202-74-4

Anike didn't look up as the door to the conference room opened. He kept sketching the outline of the room, ignoring the prince's voice as he spoke in the grand and pompous tone that meant the ambassadors from Marana were with him. Anike continued sketching, adding in an outline of the painting that hung on the far wall.

Anike continued to ignore them until the prince mentioned his name, and then his attention was drawn away from his sketchpad. The prince was still talking; something about recording the momentous occasion of receiving ambassadors from Marana after the century of hearing nothing from that country, but Anike wasn't paying attention.

He was too busy staring at the two ambassadors. Anike had never seen their like. He'd heard the rumors that Maranans were strange looking, but he'd dismissed them. How strange could they be, living in a country just to the east? He'd put it down to imagination and the fact that no one had seen anyone from Marana in decades.

But the ambassadors were definitely not normal. They were both thin, with long faces and cheekbones that slanted at an alarming angle. Their mouths were strangely shaped and their eyes were slanted to match their cheekbones and their pupils were not round, but oval. Their noses were flatter than any nose Anike had ever drawn before and they both had jet black hair. Anike was willing to bet they were either related or that everyone in Marana looked the same.

Anike recovered himself with a blush as they both grinned at him, showing off the curve of fangs. Ducking his head, he focused on his sketch, hoping he hadn't offended by staring. The prince seated himself at the head of the table, as Anike had known he would. Adding a bit more detail to the prince's hair where he'd already drawn him in, Anike waited for the ambassadors and the prince's bodyguards to settle in so he could sketch their outlines.

He'd finish the drawing completely later, but for now it was just important to get everyone in place where they were, and add a bit of detail. He'd have to focus on the ambassadors more than he'd originally planned—he had a good memory, but they were so different looking that he would need to get as much down as he could before the meeting was over.

Since it was just a short welcome meeting, Anike wouldn't have much time. The ambassadors took the seats to the prince's left, which gave him a good view of them. Anike immediately began sketching them, trying not to be too indiscreet as he glanced up at them.

It didn't help that one or the other was always staring at him whenever he looked up, and Anike decided that he was going to have a permanent blush after the meeting. Sketching in the ambassadors' eyes, Anike hoped he wasn't making them look too alike and half-wished he could have a chance—a real chance, not hurried sketches—to draw them. They were so different from the people he usually drew, and Anike wanted to make sure he could record how graceful they looked.

It seemed like no time at all before the prince stood again, and Anike realized he had missed the entirety of what had been said. Not that it mattered, since he wasn't a scribe or anything, but he'd been a little curious. Shrugging it off, Anike snuck one last look at the ambassadors as they stood. He didn't bother to get up, knowing he wouldn't be disturbed in the conference room. He could sketch out the rest of the room in peace, and detail the ambassadors before the lines of their faces slipped away from him.

The room fell quiet as the prince left, and Anike smiled a little as he settled in to draw. He'd sketch a bit where he was, and then move to the table so he could add in more detail.

Anike's head jerked up at the sound of a soft laugh, and his eyes widened a bit to see the two ambassadors were still in the room with him. That wasn't good—perhaps they wanted the room to talk privately and he hadn't heard because he was paying too much attention to his sketchbook?

"Sorry," Anike said quickly, all but tumbling out of his chair in his haste to stand. "I'll go."

"Go?" The closer one smirked, showing his fangs. He was taller than the other, Anike noted. He was also sauntering closer to Anike. Anike wondered briefly if that was how he normally walked or if he was doing that just to discomfit him. "No, you're not going anywhere."

"Um," Anike replied intelligently, gripping his sketchbook tightly. He couldn't help but stare at the ambassador, noting the fine lines in his face—peering closer, Anike realized with a start that the man's skin was made up of tiny little scales that shimmered a little in the light.

And he was staring again. Anike glanced away—right at the other one, who was smirking to match the first. Anike jumped when the first touched his cheek, his fingers brushing lightly against Anike's skin and drawing his attention back. Anike stared at the man—what was he
doing
and that really was rather obvious. Only, he was an ambassador, and Anike didn't know how to get out of the situation without doing something to offend them—and their country—or even if he really wanted to because they were fascinating.

"I think you're scaring him, Calo," the second said, his words hissing out softly. Anike shivered, taking a careful step back, away from that soft, cool hand—covered, he realized, with the same small scales Anike had noted in his face.

"I don't think so." Calo smiled at him, his eyes intent as they focused on Anike. His eyes were a pale gold-green, and Anike blushed; he had quite a bit more detail he could add to the sketch.

"Hmm? Are you scared, pretty artist?"

Anike blinked, startled. He wasn't pretty. He was plain, with ordinary light brown hair and a too-big nose, and his teeth were slightly crooked … Calo laughed, sauntering closer and Anike noted absently that his brother—or maybe cousin, though they still looked an awful lot alike to be just cousins—moved forward as well.

"What do you want?" Anike asked warily, folding his sketchbook closed and tucking his pencil behind his ear. The ambassadors looked at each other and laughed at the same time. Anike blushed, because really, the way they were looking at him—the way both of them were looking at him—it was obvious.

"Hmm," Calo murmured, and Anike just blinked at him when Calo slid a hand through his hair soothingly. "Reni and I are most taken with you."

Anike frowned, wondering if they were playing some sort of joke. They'd known he existed for maybe half an hour.

"You taste good," Reni informed him, and Anike jumped a little when Reni's fingers caressed his arm. Calo smirked, still teasing at his hair, and Anike blushed, trying to hold onto his rapidly crumbling composure.

"You haven't tasted me yet," Anike protested, then clapped his free hand over his mouth because truly that thought should've stayed in his head. Reni laughed, and his tongue flickered out of his mouth, a quick dart of pink, and Anike really wanted to sink into the floor in mortification.

Calo tugged his hand away gently, ducking his head and Anike froze as he was kissed. Just a light, teasing kiss and a barely-there touch of tongue, and Anike tried in vain to make his brain work as Reni followed suit with a set of kisses to his cheeks.

"Tasty," Reni declared, and Anike could do nothing but stare at him, and then at Calo as he laughed, petting Anike again before stepping back.

"Come, Reni, let's go to our rooms," Calo said, his eyes never leaving Anike. "I think we've overwhelmed him."

"I think you're right," Reni smirked at Anike before turning to follow Calo from the room. Anike stared after them, not moving for a few minutes after they left. Slowly, he touched his lips, his eyes on the door. He half-expected them to come back and drag him off to make good on their teasing kisses and gentle touches.

Anike shook himself, taking a few steps towards the door. At least they didn't seem dangerous. Well, they were dangerous, but only in the sense that he couldn't think around them. Anike sighed, pulling his sketchbook closer. Maybe they'd forget about him when they met the pretty courtesans and the prettier servants that hung around the palace. The thought panged unhappily in his stomach, but Anike ignored it, moving to the table and sitting down woodenly. He had a drawing to complete.

It was three days before he saw the ambassadors again. It was the formal welcoming ball, and Anike was required to make a sketch of the proceedings. Something that was going to be extremely difficult, considering that it was a ball, and dancing and migrating around the ballroom was the normal behavior.

Still, the prince insisted that everything about the ambassadors arrival at the palace was momentous, and since he'd hired Anike to record every momentous occasion during his reign, Anike was drawing the welcome ball. He hated drawing balls. He ended up sketching too fast, trying to do the outlines of as many scenes as he could, and his hand would cramp and he'd be stuck drawing with a sore hand for days afterwards.

It didn't help that he was still on edge from the meeting with Calo and Reni three days back. He kept thinking about them. He kept drawing them, and worst, he kept dreaming about them. Pleasant, not for children dreams, and Anike had to be going insane. He'd kept to his rooms, something that wasn't unusual when he was working on a project, but he usually went for a meal or two outside his room.

He was afraid of running into them, though. He'd make an idiot of himself again, he knew it. It didn't help that the ambassadors had to be playing with him. He wasn't stupid. There was no way they could have decided they wanted him after half an hour of him sketching them and Anike prided himself on not making the same mistakes twice.

None of which was what he should have been concentrating on, and Anike forced himself to start sketching the ballroom's outline again. Nothing began for another two hours, but he would use the time to get the room's shape down on as many pages as he could. Then he could fill in the people and hope none of the furniture changed like that one ball where two of the nobles had gotten drunk ahead of time and broken the drink table, only to have it replaced with a round table instead of the rectangular one it had been.

Anike sighed, scooting his chair closer to the balcony railing. He was up in one of the private alcoves, which afforded him a much better view of the ballroom floor. He'd already locked the door, ensuring he wouldn't be bothered and that none of the nobles would try to commandeer the alcove for their "personal" business.

Anike thought longingly of the paintings half-finished in his room. He wanted to be there, working on finishing off his first set of paintings of Calo and Reni. Pushing the thought from his mind, Anike focused on the room below him and began to sketch.

Three hours later, Anike groaned and muttered beneath his breath about spoiled princes as he forced his hand to sketch more quickly and willed the swirling, swiveling idiots below to
hold still
for more than five seconds. It didn't help that his eyes kept drifting away from the prettily dressed men and women to look at the ambassadors.