A STOLEN MOMENTW
hen King Lucien pulled Danika into a hug, blanketing her in his muscular arms, everything suddenly felt right in the world when she got over her shock from the gesture. She allowed her wet eyes to slide close, and she wrapped her arms around him.
It had been four weeks since she’d been in his arms. Four excruciating weeks of pain and misery.
Danika closed her eyes and tightened her arms around the king. It didn’t matter if that moment was fleeting. If he regained his senses and pushed her away. What mattered was the moment—this stolen moment between them.
Since her status had been reduced and she became a slave, Danika learned to live in the moment, because good moments were scarce when you’re a slave.
Finally, he pulled back. She looked up at his deep blue eyes, that didn’t look so troubled anymore.
“You weren’t sleeping?” King Lucien’s voice was deep, his eyes searching.
“I slept, my king.” She’d keep calling him that until he demanded otherwise. “I woke up earlier and couldn’t go back to sleep.”
He walked past her then, with slow, steady steps and his hands behind his back.
Danika was torn. She didn’t know if she should follow him or not. She wondered what had made him so stiff and restless that he had to leave his bedroom and walk into the chilly night.
“Are you coming?” He swiveled his head towards her without turning.
She nodded once and began walking towards him. She walked unhurriedly, her steps matching his. She fell only a step behind him.
It was a beautiful moonlit night. She followed his stride. “Couldn’t you sleep, my king?”
He kept silent for a full minute. “I haven’t been able to sleep in a while.” He glared at her like it was her fault.
“I’m sorry, my king.”
His throat worked. He faced forward again. “It’s not your fault,” he sighed at last. “Tonight, I had a nightmare.”
She guessed as much. The king was a man with a horrible past, so it was fitting to think that it was nightmares from the past that kept him awake. Nightmares her father created.
“I’m sorry.” The whispered words came easily again, slipping from her mouth just as water slipped through hands.
“I have a cousin from my mother’s side named Declan. A fire took his parents when he was five and I was twelve. He was living with Queen Meetia, who was my mother’s only surviving sister back then.” As he spoke, he walked. Danika listened attentively, walking a step behind him.
This Declan he dreamed of—the Declan she’d heard him call out in his sleep a time or two. She felt good that he wanted to confide such a delicate subject in her.
“Queen Meetia died a few months before we were enslaved. That was how Declan came to live with us. They enslaved him with us. I did everything I could to keep him from harm’s way. It’s not easy when you’ve got no powers and you’re a target for a powerful man.” He threw her a side glance.
Danika didn’t know what to say to that, so she kept mute, but her chest felt tight.
He turned away again. “Deck should have never known that life. He’d been too sheltered. Queen Meetia made sure of that, especially when his parents died when he was a boy. Then, suddenly, he was exposed to the worst. The harshest part of life. I did all I could. They’d whip him and wouldn’t feed him. I’d given him my food—even when I’d not eaten for several days. I’d either give it to him or Remeta or Vetta. Baski and Chad never took it, no matter how much I commanded them to. The best days were those days we suddenly got a feast to eat. We didn’t know where the feasts were smuggled from, but occasionally, there was so much to eat it made those who had been starved, ill.” He paused, his throat working. “Now, we finally know it came from Sally.”
Danika did her best not to give any reaction at all. She’d fed them too, mostly when Sally could not. However, she couldn’t say that to him. It wouldn’t change anything. It wasn’t enough to change the wrongs her father did.
“Sally is an angel,” he continued. “And I’m glad Chad is marrying to a soul so beautiful. If any man deserves such great happiness that comes from a love match, it is Chad,” he breathed, his eyes flashing a bit.
And what about you? Danika wanted to ask so badly. Don’t you deserve love like he does? She bit the words off, swallowing them down.
“A day came when I was brutally tortured. It was one of those torture sessions that brings a slave to the very brink of death. I was right there at death’s door.” His shoulders had gone tense, his eyes darkened, and coldness was his expression. “The guards came to whip me again, but Declan was there, and he refused to leave. They whipped him badly and raped him brutally. He died right in front of me, and they took his body away,” he said flatly.
Danika closed her eyes against the wave of pain. No one deserved a death like that. Definitely not his cousin.
Silence descended again. This time, it stretched longer. They’d long walked off of the palace premises, and now they walked through the shortcut that led to the river. Danika wanted to apologize again, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Maybe because she knew it would be the last straw for him if she did. It might turn him back to the master she knew her first few weeks in the palace.
“My nightmares are filled with Declan. That was why I couldn’t sleep.”
She said it then. “I’m sorry, my king.”
They reached the bench they’d once sat on four weeks ago. To Danika, it felt like ages since the king brought her there.
When he lowered himself to the wooden bench, she sat beside him, putting some distance between them.
They stared out at the river. In the middle of the night, the water was almost still. There were no waves, no tumbling. Just the beautiful sight of water beneath the dark clouds of the night.
Then he wrapped a powerful arm around her and pulled her closer to him. He lowered his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. “Let us be like this. Just for tonight,” he murmured.
The tension left Danika’s body, and she melted into him. The memories of the past had not made him cold towards her because she was her father’s daughter.
Thank you, Creator, she whispered in her mind. That was truly a stolen moment—a moment where there was no duty. No Cone’s daughter. No master. No slave. Just a woman who loved a man. And a man who was about to be married to another.
Danika closed her eyes against the slash of pain in her heart. “My king?”
“Mm.” His eyes remained closed.
“May I touch your hair?”
“You may.”
She curled her fingers into his jet-black curls and stroked it rhythmically. He seemed to relax against her more, and his breathing came out in a sigh. She was acutely aware of his body beside hers—so acutely aware. The unique scent of his expensive cologne—which she missed these past few weeks—was all she breathed.
King Lucien felt whole again, sitting there with his head on Danika’s small shoulder and his eyes closed. The past few weeks hadn’t been easy. Duty was never easy. He’d done his best not to think of her and to put all memories of her aside to perform his duties as a king. He never expected it to be as hard as it was. But it turned out to be one of the hardest things he’d done, keeping her out of his chambers and out of his bed.
For the first time in so long, he could breathe easily again. The voices in his head had died down; his demons had disappeared; and now only peace and serenity remained.
It was her; he realized it a long time ago.