It hurt her severely, and even after three weeks, it hadn’t hurt less. But if Princess Kamara would make the king happy, it would be bearable for Danika. She would just have to bear it; she had no choice. She wished the king all the happiness life had to offer. Maybe then, the guilt of what her father did to him would finally leave her.
She paused and leaned her head on the cold rail. If the guilt might leave her, would her love for him ever leave her?
When Baski gave her the news one week after the night she’d spent with the king, it made her wonder if that was the reason the king had stopped summoning her to his bed, stopped summoning her to write. Why he just stopped… everything.
She opened her eyes, shutting the pain out, and continued the work she was doing. Exhaustion racked her body, turning her form to liquid, but she ignored that too.
She had been sick lately. She was always tired; nausea had become her companion. The cravings too. It felt like her body was no longer hers, and it started feeling that way lately.
Danika ignored it. She was sick, and she knew it was because of everything that had happened lately, the emotional blows to her heart and the king’s renewed aloofness. The king’s impending marriage.
Princess Kamara. Danika knew her. The few gatherings of princesses her father had allowed her to attend made it possible for Danika to know most of the princesses in the twelve kingdoms. She had been their leader, too, because she was the princess of Mombana, the strongest kingdom.
Danika walked to the pavement afterwards and lowered herself on it to rest her tired bones, leaning against the courtyard wall. Tears prickled her eyes.
That saying about how the mighty have fallen.
That saying about going from grace to grass.
All because of her father’s greed and evil heart.
He destroyed everything her grandfather and ancestors had worked for and ruined Mombana in just fifteen years of being king.
“I hate you, Father,” she whispered tearfully. She hated him for putting her through everything. For ruining the lives of so many.
Princess Kamara and the other princesses always respected her in their gatherings, while only a few rebelled behind her back because they didn’t have the guts it takes to speak about it to her face. Others solidly respected her. They bowed to her. They didn’t speak when she was speaking. It was in the rule of things—in the teachings of old, which princesses spent most of their lives learning. And today, Danika would stand and wait on Princess Kamara. Today, she would bow to her and work for her.
She didn’t know Princess Kamara personally, but she could distinctly remember a tall and beautiful woman who was her age.
Was she a rebel?
Would she make life a worse hell for her than it already was?
Would she hate her more than the mistress did?
Would she hurt her?
The mistress’s mood had become blacker lately; she was always angry and raging—more than usual. Danika didn’t know why, but she did her best to keep out of her way. She didn’t want to be an outlet for the wicked mistress’s discontent.
The tears fell from her eyes and Danika wiped them clean. But wouldn’t it be better to be an outlet for the mistress? At least when the mistress whipped her, Danika was sure it hurt more than the pain she was feeling now. The only pain that competed with what she had been feeling lately was the pain of what the kings did to Sally.
She wiped her tears again. She needed to be strong. She had to.
“No matter what happens. Do not forget that you’re royalty.”
The king’s words whispered in her mind. Those words had become been her strength in weakness. Her comfort in sorrow.
More tears fell.
Creator, she felt so sick and very dizzy.
“You can’t fall asleep, Danika. You must be awake and get ready to welcome the princess’s chariot,” she whispered to herself.
Sally went in search of her princess after her dress fitting. She came out of the backyard and stopped short when she saw Danika sitting on the pavement, her head leaning on the wall.
She was sleeping.
It hadn’t been the first time Sally had found Danika sleeping in a corner lately, but she knew her princess had a lot going for her, too. Tears prickled Sally’s eyes. She wished the melancholy would go away and her princess would be happy again. Now wasn’t the time for her princess to sleep because they had a duty to see about the coming princess. But Sally didn’t want to wake her princess. In fact, she didn’t want her princess to join the crew that would welcome Princess Kamara, even though that was how it should be.
She resolved her heart to that. She would do everything possible to spare her princess that special degradation and humiliation.
Sally saw a guard passing and rushed to him. “Please, can you help me, sire?”
The guard stopped and bowed to her in respect. “What can I do for you, my lady?”
Sally flushed. The palace workers had been more respectful to her since they learned about her upcoming marriage to their leader. They were always eager to do things for her, to help her. They even addressed her like she was a lady of privilege.
She hadn’t been able to get used to it, but they wouldn’t stop.
“It’s my prin---” she paused, reminding herself that she couldn’t address her as her princess in public.
Remeta could get away with openly calling her “my queen,” but another person would have her head separated from her body and nailed on a spike for such insolence.
“Please, can you help me bring her?” She pointed at her princess, not having whatever it took to call her by her name yet. “To our bedroom? I don’t want her to wake, or I would have woken her up,” she requested softly.
“I will do that, my lady.” The guard bowed again and walked past her towards Danika. He lifted her as gently as possible and began carrying her inside the palace. Sally followed closely behind them. She really wished this illness would go away and her princess would be happy again.
.