When Vetta heard the screams in her quarters, which were secluded from the
palace, she couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face.
For the first time! Now that’s more like it.
Every night in the Mombana kingdom was like a zoo-so many screams and cries
and shouts and more screams.
Men cried with whatever was being done to them and women screamed from the
animalistic way the guards took their body. Sons of bitches, who had no reason to be
animalistic… unlike Lucien.
When she stopped hearing Danika’s voice, Vetta got up from the bed in her
nightclothes and made her way out of her room. The king would need her.
She turned the corner that led to the king’s chambers in time to see him at his door.
“My king.” She whispered seductively.
He didn’t spare her a glance. “Get out, Vetta. I don’t need you.”
He entered his chambers, and she heard the lock turn. Vetta was so shocked she
didn’t know what to say. She stood speechless, trying to assimilate his words.
When she did, she didn’t know what she felt more. Anger that he went all the way
with that slave and even found satisfaction in her body. Or fear that somehow-
somehow-she felt some things would change and they wouldn’t be in her favor.
Danika fell sick. It took three days before she started feeling better.
Baski was the first person to come to her room the next morning. She found
Danika in the exact position she lay in after the king left. The woman helped her out
of bed and helped her bathe. She was running a high fever.
Afterwards, she helped Danika use herbal potions, explaining each one to her.
The one that soothes the body, the one that heals wounds. The one that calms the
body, the one that drives pain away, the one that takes away fevers, and so many
others.
Danika could barely ask the unnerving question. “Wh-what about… herbal
potions… that prevent a baby?” Her voice was hoarse from overuse.
Baski turned pale, like a ghost. But only for a second. “I’ll get them.” Then she
hurried outside and came back with unidentified leaves. She ground them and
squeezed out the water. Baski placed the cup on the fireplace until the content became
hot. Then she helped Danika drink it. It was very bitter, but she finished it.
In the following days, Danika didn’t know what happened. Why no one disturbed
her.
There was no order to go to the mines. No order to wash clothes. No order to fetch
buckets of water. No order at all.
“Is it the king?” she’d asked Baski on the third day.
“That did what?” the older woman asked as she made another potion.
“That gave orders for them to leave me alone.”
When Baski stared at the incredibly beautiful but tired woman on the bed, she
shrugged.
“This is the first time I’m having such a long rest since he made me a slave,”
Danika said as a way of explanation.
Baski turned back to her potions. “I kept them away. They should do their duties
and leave you alone for now.”
Danika didn’t say anything. Then she whispered, “Thank you so much, Baski. For
everything.”
The woman just nodded and continued making the potions.
“I made several potions for her. Helped her with a soothing balm. She needs her
strength, so I made the horsebalm for her, and-”
Lucien stopped writing and gave her a knowing look.
Baski stopped speaking. He never asked for details-he didn’t need them-but
Baski never failed to give them, anyway.
He started writing again. His face devoid of emotions, he stared down at the scroll
in front of him.
“She asked whose order it was that she should be left alone,” Baski spoke again.
Lucien’s bulky shoulders stiffened, and he paused writing. He raised his head to
stare at Baski without saying a word.
“I told her it was my order. I didn’t tell her it was yours, as you instructed,” she
provided quickly.
His muscles relaxed, and he lowered his head to continue writing again. He
demarcated the scroll and drew a new line on it.
“She requested potions that p-prevents a baby,” she rushed out.
His head shot up and he stiffened. His face, that was devoid of emotions before,
became filled with anger and loathing.
“What did you do?” When he spoke, his words came out low but deadly.
Baski wiped her hands a little nervously on her apron. “I made her the potions.”
Lucien didn’t say a word. Time dragged by, but he didn’t say anything. Finally, his
words came, cold and revealing no emotion. “You should have told her not to worry
about that because her father made sure that that would never happen.”
Baski lowered her head. “I knew it was not my place to say things like that about
the king.”
His lips twitched a bit, his eyes as cold as ever. “A king who’s potent but sterile? A
king who can’t father a child?”
“A fierce king who led his people out of slavery,” she told him without missing a
beat.
She, Lucien, Chad, and their kingdom’s medicine men were the only people aware
of his condition. Not even Vetta knew about it.
Lucien said nothing. Instead, he went back to writing.
“The slave girl… Sally,” Baski began.
“What about her?” He inked his feather.
“She still comes here every morning, crying to be let in.”
Lucien didn’t look at her. He rolled the well-written scroll and set it aside, then he
withdrew a new scroll and unrolled it.
“She wants to be a palace slave. She wouldn’t give up. She wants to be with the
former princess, Danika,” Baski pushed on.
He changed the inkwell and put a new one on the table. He didn’t say anything for
a long time.
“When she comes again, take the girl to the clothes room and change her into the
uniform.”
Baski smiled for the first time and bowed her head. “Yes, my king,” she said
before she turned and left.