The Pirate Prince (Pirate's Booty Series, Book Five) by Temple Hogan

scornfully. Her dislike of the woman grew by the day. “You are merely a servant, a spy sent by my father.”
    “As you say, Your Highness.” Hestia bowed slightly, her hands held palms together.
    Azara wasn’t fooled. Hestia would never be meek. Her nature was to scheme and try to get the better of those around her. That was why Hasna had sent her away. A curse formed on Azara’s lips for the woman who had taught her so much. Now as she glared at the bold serving woman, she thought of how Hasna might handle such a situation. Obviously, she would use Hestia’s talents to her own benefit.
    “What have you in mind?” Azara said aloud.
    Hestia smiled, unperturbed by her mistress’ imperious tone.
    “I have heard much of this island. It is a place where the pirates gather to sell their stolen goods and to send emissaries to ransom those they’ve kidnapped, so they have access to the outside world. We could get a message to your father or to the shah that you’re being kept there against your will.”
    “How could you get a message out?” Azara asked skeptically. Still, her heartbeat increased as she wondered if this might, indeed, be a way. “You know no one and you have nothing to bargain with.”
    “I have many things to use as barter for a favor,” Hestia replied, swishing her skirts.
    Her grin was bright and bold without any hint of shame at what she contemplated. For a moment, Azara almost envied her the freedom she enjoyed. No inhibitions, no customs to follow on pain of death. Women like Hestia were always protected for the valuable service they provided. At Azara’s hesitation, the serving woman assumed a somber, yet wily expression.
    “Perhaps Your Highness doesn’t wish to be rescued. The prince is very handsome,” she replied softly.
    Azara jerked her head up and scowled at the impertinent woman.
    “Of course I wish it,” she replied harshly. “Mind your tongue or I’ll have you whipped.”
    Hestia merely bent her head, and Azara knew she hid yet another smile.
    “When we are home again, I will tell my father of your disrespect and have you whipped to within an inch of your life. In the meantime, you will stay away from me until you have learned your place and when we reach Madagascar, I will consider your suggestion.”
    “Thank you, Your Highness. I am sorry to have offended you,” Hestia said and though her words were appropriate, her tone was not.
    “Be gone from me,” Azara ordered in exasperation.
    The moment Hesita had bowed herself out of the room, Oma entered followed by the other women bearing a small tub and pitchers of water. While the servants filled the tub and scented the water, Oma helped Azara disrobe. When she’d finished bathing, Oma and the women smoothed scented oils over her body, brushed out her hair and helped her dress in a fine new garment meant for her position in the Peacock Palace. When they were finished, she knew she looked her finest. Her serving women oohed and ahhed over her.
    “The prince will be blinded by your beauty,” Malika, one of the youngest and Azara’s favorite, said, smoothing the silken gown, which was stiff with embedded jewels.
    Azara grinned in good humor again. She noted Hestia was not among the women attending her and wondered if she’d been too harsh. Well, she would allow Hestia to return if she behaved properly in the days ahead.
    “It is time to go, princess,” Oma said. “The prince waits for you.”
    Azara’s heart gave a leap, but she said nothing, simply moved to the door and down the narrow passage to Rajak’s cabin. He was waiting for her, his eyes lighting when he saw her.
    “Welcome, Princess Azara,” he said, bowing slightly from the waist.
    He held an arm out to indicate a table, which was laden with dishes of exotic food. Obviously, his cook had gone to a great deal of trouble to prepare such fine fare. Azara might have been enticed by the aroma and sight, but her stomach was too knotted with anxiety. She had