The Kingdom of Mericia was a traditional sort of realm, such that by the time the Princess Layla reached marriageable age, she’d become utterly sick of it all; the mindless ritual, the petty dramas, the endless restrictions on her conduct, how her happiness was constantly abrogated for the sake of her father’s orders, all rationalized with the excuse that this was how it had always been done. The privilege of royalty was a cage, albeit a gilded one, and one she’d happily abandon forever to live a life of her own choosing. She wanted to travel beyond the borders of their tiny realm, to see the sun rise over the Great Eastern Sea and take in the vast markets of al-Maqash, and for half a grout, she’d take her chances and make a run for it.
Assuming you can ever make it out of this tower, Layla reminded herself, uncomfortably aware of the lengths her father had gone in hopes of preventing that reality. “Mmmppggghh, mmppggghh!” she protested to the guard carrying her bridal-style into the tower, words reduced to muffled grunts by the leather panel gag sealing her mouth.
“Mmmmpppgggghhh!”
“Sorry, Princess, but your father’s word is law,” the guard proclaimed, having the basic decency to look ashamed as he deposited her onto the elaborate four-poster bed that dominated the top floor of the tower. Her beguiling figure writhing beneath the close-fitting blue silk gown, he made a quick check of her bonds before turning away, rather than dare risk gawking openly at his liege lord’s daughter. “We’re not to unlock the tower door or untie you for any reason.”
“MMMPPGGGHHHH!” Layla screamed in dismay, that declaration provoking another reason of struggles. Atop the goose-feather mattress, the dusky beauty writhed helplessly in her bondage, ropes bound tight at her ankles, thighs and above and below her breasts, with a final coil securing her wrists firmly behind her back, long dark hair thrashing about in her struggles. Brown eyes saw that the nearest window had been left barred with iron from the outside, and her heart sank as a quick glance revealed the others had likewise been secured, testament to her father’s desire to bring her to heel. He can’t keep me like this forever. Can he?
Without another word, the guard took his leave, the heavy iron door slamming shut behind him, joined seconds later by the click of the lock turning into place. “Mmmppgggghhh! MMMPPPPGGGGHHH!” Layla called back after him, struggles intensifying in her growing panic. In all the stories, there was always a gallant knight on hand to rescue the princess from the tall tower, but something told her that hope was far from reality…