Vetta was so restless with worry by the time the king entered his chambers after so
much time had passed.
“My king. I know wh-what it looks like, but I wasn’t going to kill her or anything
of that sort at all. It’s just torture!” she said as he strode past him.
Lucien turned and stared at her with fire in his eyes. “Why?”
She blinked, confused. “Wh-what?”
“Apart from the torture sessions that come from the king to a slave, there should be
reasons for any other torture session, unless allowed by the king. Why did you torture
her?”
“I-I-I,” she swallowed, at a loss for words. “But you gave me permission f-for it,
my king. That night…five noondays after she became a slave, you permitted me.”
Silence. His cold, angry, unreadable eyes held hers.
And then, “What did you promise to me during your request, Vetta?”
Shit, shit, shit! She knew he wasn’t going to forget that; but she had hoped!
“I asked you for permission to hold a torture session for her, and I p-promised no
heavy stuff.”
“What did I say to you, Vetta?”
“You nodded and said to keep th-things at a mi-minimum,” she whispered
shamefully.
“Whipping a slave within an inch of her life while shocking her. Is that what you
call a ‘no heavy stuff’?”
“My king-”
“Is that what is called minimal, Vetta?”
“But I didn’t really do anything so wrong! It’s just some minor whippings! No
heavy strokes or hard strokes and-”
“Shut up.”
The single phrase that clamped her mouth shut.
He didn’t say anything again. The silence was so heavy it made Vetta restless.
He walked closer to her and tilted her cheek to see his hard, scarred face clearly.
“What is going on with you lately?”
She swallowed tightly, trying to hide the anger she was feeling. She hadn’t
expected the question at all!
“These days, I look upon you with fresh eyes,” he grated angrily. “You have no
right to do that to the king’s slave-not unless I authorized it; and I didn’t.”
Vetta could no longer control her anger. “But she’s a slave, Lucien! I have rights
over all of them! She’s a slave, and I’m your mistress! What about what her father did
to us? To you! To me! To Chad! To the others!? What about that!?”
He let seconds of silence descend after that outburst. Then he fixed her with an
intense stare. “She’s the king’s slave. I own her. I decide what happens to her. I
torture her. I hurt her. She’s my slave. She’s my property. My possession. Mine.” His
voice was as hard as granite.
Fury-laced and hate-filled words, but Vetta couldn’t help thinking that there was a
deeper undertone.
“Chad,” the king called.
The door opened and Chad entered. “Yes, my king.”
“Escort the mistress to her quarters. She’s worked up and needs rest for at least
seventy-two hours,” he commanded.
“What!? You’re putting me under house arrest for th-three days!?” She was angry
and astonished.
“Yes, Your Highness!” Chad replied. Then he turned and took hold of Vetta’s arm.
“Don’t touch me! I’ll walk on my own!” Vetta knew better than to struggle against
him. It would be a thing of disgrace for servants to see her being manhandled out of
the king’s chambers.
She bit her lip hard. She wanted to scream at the king. She wanted to say so many
things, but she was wise enough to clamp her mouth shut.
“Your wish is my command, Your Highness,” she mumbled at last and started
marching her way out.
“Vetta?” He called her when she reached the door.
“Yes, my king?”
He didn’t turn around when he spoke. “I freed my people because I want them to
experience being free again. Cone made me a monster, but it is my duty to protect my
people. Let me carry that burden alone. It is my responsibility. My duty as a king. As
my father’s son. There shouldn’t be two monsters together, or everyone around us
will be in danger. Two monsters cannot stay in the same place.”
Finally, he turned and stared at her. There was sadness in his eyes, but there was
conviction, too. “We have been through so much together, Vetta, but the day I look
upon you and see a monster is the day I let you go. Completely.”
Baski finished mixing the concoction and forced Danika to drink it. . She was still
unconscious, and the concoction was to make her sleep well.
Chad was already waiting by the door when she was done. She nodded her head,
signaling that he could take her. He bent down and lifted Danika up the same way he
carried her into her room-her midriff on his shoulder, her back in the air.
When they got to the king’s room, Lucien was sitting down behind his desk,
writing. He didn’t look up when they entered.
“Make a bed for her down there.” He pointed to his own bed.
“Already on it, my king,” Baski replied.
Within minutes, she and Sally had another high enormous mattress on the floor
beside the king’s bed and they spread a fresh new bed sheet on it.
Chad laid Danika face down on the bed and gently turned her head to the side.
They watched her even breathing for a few seconds before they turned away.
Sally was uncomfortable with this development. The king hated the princess and
now he wanted her to sleep in his room? What if he killed her at night?
“You can all leave,” he said.
They bowed to the king and the three of them left.
Sally came out of the door, her heart in her throat. She kept looking back at the
door of his chambers as she walked, filled with uncertainty.
“She’ll be fine. Trust me.” Baski’s voice drew her attention to the older woman’s
face.
Sally nodded. “Thank you so much, Madam Baski.”
Her lips curved into a little smile. “You don’t have to thank me, my dear,” she said
simply before she walked ahead of her. Sally followed her obediently.