As she struggled and cried and struggled the more, Sally started screaming again,
and this time it sounded… more agonizing.
With each scream, Danika cried louder and struggled against Baski until the
woman finally freed her or risked getting seriously hurt.
“Danika! No!” she cried.
Danika was beyond hearing; her heart was breaking in her chest. With each scream
coming from the royal court, a little piece of her heart died a little more inside.
She pulled the doorknob and swung the door as open as she could get it, which
wasn’t much, but it’d do because she could pass through the narrow way.
She took a first step in, only to collide into a hard wall.
No. Not a wall. A man. A man who suddenly filled the doorway.
Danika raised her red teary eyes to stare into the hard face of King Lucien. His
eyes weren’t so cold. They were filled with rage-and underlying pain and sadness.
It was that same look on his face when he remembered his dead family-or his
time in slavery.
Baski’s eyes widened in shock, and she lowered her head to the ground. There’s
trouble, she thought deep within herself.
Danika didn’t care that the king just found her-discovered the atrocity she had
committed, swapping roles with Sally. That wasn’t what she was thinking about.
Instead, her face crumbled and sob after sob racked her body. “He’s g-going to… kill
her. I need to g-get to her!”
Lucien didn’t leave the doorway. Instead, he stared down at her red, wet face and
swollen eyes. When he spoke, his voice was hard. “You can’t go in there, Danika. All
her sacrifices will be in vain. She will be executed, and you will go through the very
thing she tried to prevent.”
Tears spewed down Danika’s eyes in waves, and she lowered her head in defeat
and bone-deep fear. Sally screamed in such a loud excruciating voice; Danika jerked
like she’d been slapped.
Her body trembled visibly; she shook her head miserably.
Music, talking, laughing and cheering. Screams. More screams. Danika cried
freely.
When the next scream came, it rose to a pitch, and then stopped.
Danika’s heart somersaulted in her chest, and her head snapped up. Wide, red teary
eyes filled with horror met the king’s own.
“What happened!? What h-happened!?” she cried.
The only answer she got was an answer she’d never have expected to get from
him. Even Baski never expected it, because even though his eyes were raging, his face
was the same unreadable mask.
He used one hand to coax her into his body, and he wrapped both arms around her.
His long kingly cloak-like garment wrapped around her smaller form, shielding her
completely from human eyes-from the evil that was happening behind him.
Shock quickly worked its way past fear and horror at his gesture, and Danika’s
head cushioned on his chest, the scent of his garment surrounding her. She stood
stunned. Only for a second. The shock started wearing off, replaced by panic and
mind-numbing pain. They’ve killed her.
For the king to react this way-for her scream to cut off like that. They’ve killed
her.
“Sally! Sally! Don’t leave m-me, please! Sally, you can’t l-leave me!” she cried
and screamed, but her words were muffled against his chest.
Hard calloused hands rhythmically patted her head as her body was racked with
sobs.
Danika had always wondered what it would feel like to be in the king’s arms like
this. Him, holding her tenderly against his colossal body. She never expected it to be
this way. She never wanted it to be this way. And yet she clutched his garment tight in
her hands as she cried miserably. She never stopped holding him tight. Never raised
her head from the cushion of his body.
Baski’s head was lowered; her shoulders shook as she wept bitterly.
King Lucien was the only one who wasn’t visibly reacting. Instead, he patted
Danika’s head rhythmically while she cried and shook against him.
Only music, cheers, laughter, and clattering remained. There were no more
screams. No matter how Danika listened, she couldn’t hear more.
What seems like an eternity later, King Noir’s voice pierced the din. “Blazes! I
knew I should have gone before Pesih. Now I get a corpse? No thanks. I ain’t
interested.”
More laughter.
“Do you think that mastiff, Cone, rolled over in his grave?” King Philip’s voice.
Another round of laughter and cheers. “He must have, I’ll bet. He really favored
that girl of his, and then he treats other people’s girls to hell on goddamn earth.”
“I bet he thought he’d live forever.”
“Yeah. Didn’t know that Conald’s son was one bad son-of-an-elf who’d have his
head someday.”
More laughter. More cheers.
“Lucien really dealt him a big number. And now we get to deal with him in a much
better way.”
“His daughter. Damn, the girl was fun. Too bad she’s so weak.”
“Nah, I’d say she’s strong. But Pesih is one angry son-of-an-elf. He carved her up
like a chicken.”
More laughter. More music. More cheers.
“Where’s King Lucien? His messenger said something about a petition. Now that
one order of business is done, let’s go over to another,” King Zeba said.
King Lucien finally pulled a crying, shocked Danika away from his body. “Baski,
take her away. Call Chad to go in there.” He left it unsaid, but he didn’t have to say it.
They all knew what he was going to say. Call Chad to take her corpse away.
Even as tears ran freely down Danika’s cheeks, she’d gone into shock. As Baski
held her, Danika walked mindlessly away with her.
King Lucien returned to the courtroom and shut the door. It was supposed to be an
introduction, not a slaughter. But then again, they were kings. There had been no rules
in court. It was just like every other day in any royal court. A slave was dead, and it
was as normal as a change in weather.
The slave being Cone’s daughter made it all seem like the best change in weather.