In the comfort of his room, King Lucien wrote notes the financial status of the
lower market of Salem and its improvements. Naturally, it should be the royal
accountant writing about it, but he’d instructed the accountant to leave it. Not because
of anything in particular, but it was a good way to exhaust the mind. Who knew-he
might sleep relatively well tonight.
He considered going to Vetta’s room. Then he’d put the thought out of his mind.
The financial books needed updating.
As he wrote, the girl’s screams banged around the back of his head. With each
scribble, her agonizing scream rose in his head. And then he’d remembered Danika.
Today, he saw a different Danika. He saw the princess, and he saw the slave. He
didn’t see Cone’s daughter.
As he wrote, her face stood at the back of his mind. Her pain as her former
personal maid screamed behind the door.
Why did the sight of it affect him so much?
Maybe it was because he looked at her and saw himself. Each pain on her face
mirrored his on that very day Declan died. The helplessness.
He never expected to see her that way. Maybe because he underestimated the love
between those two young women. The girl, Sally, who gave up freedom to come and
stay here as a slave, just to stay close to Danika. The girl, Sally, filled with fear and
terror, but still determinedly took her place in court. He remembered the
determination in her eyes. It mirrored the familiar look on Declan’s face. On Chad’s
face.
But, when her screams came, and Danika’s reactions followed, it had taken
everything in him not to go in there and declare war.
However, even in the face of such painful circumstances, his mind reminded him
about the condition of his people.
The people of Salem were still vulnerable. Five years was a small amount of time
to have freedom after being slaves for ten long years. Everyone was still trying to pick
up the pieces of their battered lives. He’d fail himself, his people, his father, and
everything he fought for in the past fifteen years if he had declared war against five
kingdoms.
Even if Salem was at its strongest, war against five kingdoms was impossible.
Salem would lose, and they would be slaves again. And, if by some miracle there was
no war, there would never be a chance for a better life for the lowborn.
The kingdoms thought he solicited reluctantly and unaffectedly; they needn’t know
that it was personal to him. They needn’t know it was a passion project for him,
because if they did, they’d see it as a weakness, and they’d use it against him.
He withdrew his writing feather and stuck it into the ink bottle, his head pounding.
Even in captivity, he’d had to make a lot of choices for freedom. Those choices were
among the demons that lied on that bed with him when he slept; those demons that
hovered around him every long hour of every long day.
He dropped the feather and stared at the sleeping tea Baski kept on the desk. He
took it and drank it.
When Declan died, the pain almost broke him. Now he wondered how Danika was
coping under such suffocating pain.
Danika woke at the first scream she heard. Sally was twisting and struggling beside
her, screaming her lungs out.
“Sally! Sally, it’s me!” She tried to wake her, but the girl wouldn’t stir. Her eyes
shut tight as she twisted her body on the bed.
Danika remembered that Baski instructed her to make sure Sally’s stitches didn’t
get pulled out. She tried to get Sally to still, but Sally started crying. Tears filled
Danika’s hurting eyes immediately, and she ran out of the room in search of Baski.
The woman had told her she wouldn’t be going home tonight, and Danika hoped to
the heavens that she was still at the palace.
When she checked her bedroom at the maid’s quarters and saw Baski, she started
sobbing with relief.
“It’s Sally! It’s S-Sally! She’s restless! She—” she could barely get the words out.
“It’s okay, Danika, it’s okay.” Baski got up and slipped her feet into her slippers.
As they hurried away, she stuck her head to the bedroom of one maid. “Uyah!” she
called.
The girl woke immediately. “Madam Baski.” She rubbed her eyes to clear the
sleep.
“Run to the medicine man’s house and get him!”
“Yes, Madam Baski.”
Danika and Baski ran to the underground room. They heard Sally’s screams as
they got closer. She still lay on the bed, twisting and struggling. Baski climbed onto
the bed and started talking to her. As she talked, she held Sally’s hands and asked
Danika to hold her legs to still her before she opened her wounds.
But holding her body captive seemed to only make it worse. Sally’s body was so
damaged, she was running a high fever. The captivity made her crazy even while she
still wasn’t conscious.
She cried louder and started pleading as she struggled. “Please stop. Please stop!”
she cried.
The agonizing cry tore Danika’s heart open. “Baski, stop, please let her go!
Holding her captive is making it worse!” she cried.
She let go of her legs and Baski let go of her hands. Sally was still twisting and
crying when Danika slid up her body and laid beside her.
“Sally, it’s Danika. Sally, please listen to my voice and stop!” she cried, but Sally
could not hear. Her sobs grew louder, her cries so painful to hear.
“She doesn’t know Danika. She doesn’t know you as Danika,” Baski said to her.
Danika processed her words in her chaotic mind. Then she leaned closer and
caressed Sally’s cheek. “Sally? It’s your princess. Please, stop. It’s Princess Danika.”
The girl stilled immediately. “M-my princess?” Her voice was tiny and filled with
fear.
“Yes! Yes, Sally, it’s me.” Danika patted her burning cheeks, kissing her forehead.
Sally relaxed on the bed and released a deep breath. “My princess,” she trailed off
as her body went lax and her breathing labored out.
Danika allowed the strength to leave her own body. The strength left, but the tears
remained.