Danika woke up the following day disoriented. Her body was heavy, her
surroundings completely unfamiliar. She opened her eyes and didn’t recognize where
she was. This wealthy, luxurious room could only mean one place.
No-no way.
Her eyes widened as she sat up. She was really in the king’s chambers! This is
where she slept!
“Oh heavens, oh heavens, oh heavens, oh heavens! What did I do!?” she whispered
to herself in sheer horror.
She peeked up… up… up… to the top of the bed and let out a deep breath of relief.
He wasn’t there. The king wasn’t there.
As she got off the bed, the events of the previous day came crashing into her head.
Being taken from her room… being flogged… she fainted…
With the return of her memory came the recognition of the dull pain coming from
her back. The pain wasn’t as intense as it was the previous day, nor as much as she
expected it to be.
She tiptoed to the nearest mirror and stared at her back. A map of green leaves and
whitish concoctions crisscrossed her flesh.
She’d been treated. Treated thoroughly.
She felt better. For someone who thought she’d died, she shouldn’t feel this good.
The memory of the rest of the day was a blur. Sally had saved her; Danika was
very sure of that. She knew she was at the brink of death yesterday, and the mistress
was ready to kill her.
She stared at the tent she’d laid in and still couldn’t believe that she’d slept in the
king’s chambers. The king’s chambers!
“You’re awake.”
The deeply familiar baritone had her turning towards the library just in time to see
him walking out.
Her knees lowered on their own accord to the floor, and her head lowered too.
“Master,” she whispered.
King Lucien stood at the door of the library, leaning back against it. “Rise.”
She stood, her head lowered. When she heard footsteps of him walking towards his
writing desk, she allowed herself to stare at him. How did she get here yesterday?
“I’m really sorry about s-sleeping here and—”
“You wouldn’t sleep here if I wasn’t aware of it, Danika,” he interrupted curtly,
without looking at her.
“Oh” She was at a loss for words.
“How are you feeling?”
“I feel… better,” she answered truthfully.
“Good. Because you’re going back to your normal activities today. That includes
working the mines, doing laundry, cutting grass, and all your other responsibilities.”
“Yes, Master,” she whispered without hesitation, pushing the dread and hurt from
her mind.
You’re a slave, Danika. You’re no longer a princess.
He finally looked up, and their eyes met.
Immediately, bits and pieces of the memories of the previous night came rushing
back to Danika. She remembered.
Being in his arms, running her hands on his face and chest, talking openly to him.
She couldn’t remember what they talked about. But he’d allowed her.
He allowed her. He had taken her into his arms, and he allowed her. He even
answered her questions. For the first time, she’d really looked him in the face up
close, and he allowed her.
He allowed it because he thought she wouldn’t remember. After all, she’d been
heavily drugged with pills and potions.
She wiped the expression of knowledge from her eyes. He didn’t need to know that
she had remembered their private moment. She’d try her best to remember their
conversation later.
Their eyes held for a long time before he lowered his to the sealed scroll in front of
him. “Get out. Tell Baski that I summon her presence here.”
“Yes, Master.” She turned and walked out of his chambers.
With each step she took, she couldn’t help but remember the night before. The
memories…
She had always thought that whenever she finally got a close look of his face, she
would see the monster he was. The monster that had tortured her and inflicted pain on
her body.
She didn’t see a monster last night. She saw a heavily scarred and wounded man.
Baski entered the king’s chambers and found his servants dressing him in his royal
court garment.
“My king. You summoned me,” she said immediately, her head lowered.
King Lucien said nothing while two royal seamstresses dressed him. Baski kept
quiet, already used to her king’s nature and silence.
The king was very sensitive about the scars on his body, and because of that, only
the twin seamstresses, Mora and Dora, dressed him.
Not the royal dressers or the maids or the servants. Just them, or Chad or Vetta, or
even herself.
“You can go,” he said.
The seamstresses bowed and scurried out of the room. His royal garments weren’t
on properly. Some buttons hadn’t been closed.
He stared at Baski.
The older woman walked closer and started working the buttons in silence. After
the buttons, Baski set the cape of his garment on his shoulders.
When he spoke, his words were curt and to the point.
“Make sure she doesn’t work for many days to come, Baski. Send out orders to the
maids, slaves, servants, and slave trainers, both in the palace and in the mine sites.
They should all stay out of her way. I find out she worked, and the person responsible
will be punished.”
“Yes, my king.” Baski wasn’t really surprised. It was just like the night he had
visited the girl in her bedroom. He had given orders just like this-only less
magnanimous.
“That girl… Sally…” he paused. “These orders extend to her, too. At least for
today.”
“I understand, my king.”
Just like that day, he pinned her with a glare. “I don’t need feedback, Baski. I don’t
care. Make sure they don’t work.”
“Of course, my lord.”
He nodded once. “You’re dismissed.”