You get the Queen's treatment.

Passing through the silk curtains you find yourself in an adjoining tent with more than a dozen young, well-dressed, noblemen and women standing around high tables laden with tidbits and wine. For the most part, these youths are just talking to each other, possibly hoping to build up their reputation and power and forge relationships while still young. Around the edges of the tent, where the canvas walls hang low to the ground, are scattered pillows where ladies of high birth recline surrounded by eager suitors, each like a queen bee attended to by her drones. It seems that at least in this in this war-zone, the men outnumbered their delicate counterparts almost three to one which might explain why you are receiving so much attention.

Standing by one of the high tables with your three courtiers you watch as the various richly-dressed men tried to impress the small collection of females. Some with charm, wit and grace, others project power, wealth and influence and perhaps most amusing of all are the ones with brash claims of heroic deeds. As far as you can determine, the woman's role in this game is to appear unimpressed and to tease the males with carefully executed flashes of their lovely bodies as they modestly adjust loose clothing that seems prone to slipping from their shoulders and legs with alarming regularity. Unlike outside where free women were veiled and shrouded with heavy robes covering them from head to toe, inside this private tent, veils and robes were cast aside so their beauty was on full display. Their lounging undergarments were cut with daring necklines, or the fasteners holding the fronts together at their necks had somehow, in the course of the day, become loosened exposing glimpses of rounded curves of pale flesh. The lovely legs of the debutantes sprawled sensually on the scattered pillows were often even more exposed. The silk robes had a tendency to ride up on the limbs of the reclining beauties, sometimes even as high as their hips before the unfortunate flirts notice and pull the offending garments back into place with a show of embarrassed modesty.

You find it absurd, but upon seeing how the men interacting with these noblewomen react to the occasional glimpse of a firm tit or flash of inner thigh, you are beginning to regret arriving in your armor. Still, Amazon armor, even the gilded plate armor you wear, is lighter than similar armor on the mainland and crafted to be easily removed. The armor is designed for ease of movement as warriors jump from ship to ship, and to make it possible to survive a fall into water. It was not intended to attract the attention of all too eager males, but all the same, you see several of the other noblewomen eying your gear with undisguised envy. At least you do not have to play the silly game of exposing and then hiding your legs. Your heavy skirt stays firmly in place but is short enough to expose plenty of your toned thighs. Even the chest plate, shaped by master smiths to accentuate rather than squash your full breasts, ends well below your throat for ease of movement leaving the upper parts of your chest unprotected, which is why from your shoulder pads hangs a layer of tightly linked rings that hook onto the upper edge of the chest plate during battle. At the moment, the hooks are unattached allowing the mail to move freely and a bit of cool air to reach under to your exposed skin.

You spot an unoccupied pillow of ivory-colored velvet, large enough for you to recline comfortably. Just as you start towards it you feel Rafail’s dexterous hands unclasping your shoulder pads and removing them along with the hanging layer of linked mail and your heavy cape all at once. With these removed from your body, you can feel the rush of air on your upper chest and shoulders, and you notice even more attention from the assembled group. For a heartbeat, you have to fight the urge to reach for your cloak as there is little left hiding your exotic curves from the hungry eyes of the men; for that matter a few of the noblewomen gaze with open curiosity at you through impossibly long, thick, eyelashes.

Pretending that this was something you do every day, you sway and weave your way over to the couch sized pillow and slowly lower yourself to your side making sure the men, both the three at your heels and any others who were watching, are enthralled by your tantalizing movement. “Care to join me boys?” you purr softly, trying to add a husky undernote to your voice.

The men smiled at the display before them and eagerly join you. Alex sits next to your head, giving you a nice firm lap to rest it on. As you place your ear on his thigh, Alex strokes your long hair with his firm hand, making you want to coo under his confident caress.

Rafail materializes behind your once more, this time with a vine of sweet purple grapes in hand. As he feeds them to you one by one, his fingertips lightly brush over your full lower lip and his offhand glides over your curves and arms. Every now and again he would risk a kiss on your exposed shoulder and neck. Your guards don’t stop him this time but they are keeping a stern eye on both you and your courtiers.

As for Ceno, he finds a small amphora of wine and pours a healthy serving into a blown-glass goblet of cobalt blue. He made it his mission to keep your glass full, as he reclined against you in the curve between your belly and thighs. From this position, he would lightly stroke the firm muscles of your as-of-yet to be scarred thighs. Your old friend seems to be more amused by seeing you fondled by three men at once than aroused, although you could still see plenty of that in his eyes. He's not used to seeing this more relaxed side of you, as a teen fostered by your mother into his home, you had a very somber and tense demeanor about you as you waited either for her return, or news of a defeat that would almost certainly lead to your capture by the slaver's guild.

As if being stroked and pampered by the three handsome men wasn’t enough, you suddenly feel a cool fanning breeze. Looking up you spot a very attractive petite servant girl fanning you with a large palm leaf. She had long brown hair, soft amber eyes, tan skin, and soft tender curves that would feel wonderful against your calloused hands.

First three strong men and now a lovely servant girl tending to your every need. A treatment worthy of any Queen. You almost feel guilty that your Sisters, - Thea in particular - could not share in your comfort…almost.

As the day continues you almost forget how pleasant it is to have your arms, legs, and hair caressed. Although their touch has you in a near constant state of arousal, and you are sure that there will be a damp stain on the ivory pillow when you finally get up, the three suitors do not take any further liberties with your all too ready body. It is probably because of the presence of two very experienced, very deadly Amazons that are as vigilant at the end of the day as they were from the moment you settled into this position. As you sip wine and are entertained by the amusing tales of all three men, you are approached by nobles both young and old, either eager to court you despite the competition or to open up diplomatic talks between your realm and theirs.

For those seeking your hand in matrimony, you and your guards are quick to remind them that it isn’t your custom to take a husband, instead, you'll select a mate only long enough to provide the seed you need to reproduce -and that the selection will be done by combat, not flattery. It takes a while for this to set in but eventually, you were being approached by fewer diplomats, poets and merchants, and more warriors. The cruder ones your guards are quick to toss out, but there are several potential candidates that could easily give Refail and Alex some serious competition, and sadly you doubt Ceno would have any chance at all.

Later, when Laoda passes through the silk curtains to check up on you, smirking at the sight of your relaxed body and the three men stroking you, she bows generally in your direction although she seems to be speaking to Alex, Refail, and Ceno. “Well, its good to see that her highness has learned to loosen up.”

You roll your eyes at the servant of Aphrodite but grin at the same time, “Alright, I take back every bad thing I was thinking about you.” Laoda acknowledges your words with a warm smile that makes you want to share the pillow with her instead of your admirers before she sinks with a dancer's grace onto the floor at your side.

“As a priestess of the goddess of love as well as a representative of the Accorian Sisterhood, it is my duty to remind the Amazons that they serve not only Ares but Aphrodite as well.”

Alex arches his brow in honest surprise, “You serve both the god of war and peace?”

“That explains why her Majesty is both a strong warrior and an exotic beauty,” Rafail announces planting yet another kiss on your shoulder, making you purr like a well-fed kitten.”

“Among other things,” Ceno adds cryptically before turning away from the group, probably remembering the time you and Thea shared his young manhood. As he turned away shyly, once more you resolve to ask him why he decided to court you, the first moment you are alone together.

“Oh, she hasn’t told you?” Laodo voice, although as sweet as ever, caries easily throughout the small chamber, “The Amazons owe their existence to both the god of war and the goddess of love. Xira why don’t you tell us the story.”

By now you knew that Laodo had projected her voice deliberately. She wanted you to be the center of attention. Pushing a stray lock of dark hair back behind your ear nervously, you look around to room to find that all eyes were upon you, even those that were making out with one another had pulled apart from each other to hear what you had to say.

You glare up at Laoda as she had once again pulled you out of your comfort zone, but this time instead of showing fear she just smirks and says in a hushed voice that not even Alex could hear, “You have to get used to this kind of attention eventually. Besides, you’ve heard the inaccuracy of our queendom. They need to know what our culture is like, and what better way to educate them than for them to hear the story of the Amazons, even better if they hear it from the lovely lips of the beautiful Amazon queen herself.”