GUT FEELINGA
thief. They called her a thief. They found the diamond necklace in her bag—a necklace she had never seen before. Danika could only watch in a daze. She didn’t know how to fix this; she didn’t know how to vindicate herself because she knew her attempts would be futile.
These were the people her father had enslaved and tortured for ten years. They looked upon her with hate, judgment, and rage. Suddenly, she wished Sally was there with her. Sally. Anybody.
These people would devour her. Her baby. No—there’s no baby, Danika.
The words didn’t convince her like they were meant to. She could only watch the angry mob in front of her. There was no pleading with them. Or begging them. It would change nothing. “I did not steal that. I have never seen that before,” she tried anyway. Her voice was hoarse and calm, while her insides were trembling. Her blood ran cold and her heart thudded in her chest.
One woman’s hand snaked out from the crowd and slapped her cheek. Another grabbed hold of her hair. “You thief! You thief!”
“We will deal with you today!” another person shouted.
As they dragged her away, she thought,
Maybe, just maybe, this is how it was written in the stars.
Maybe, just maybe, this is the way it was meant to be.
Maybe, just maybe, this is the way I’ll reunite with my mother again.
Baski was picking herbs with her daughter. Remeta had been happy all day, and her expression was cheerful and bright. That was how it had been for a few weeks now. It gave Baski a special joy. Today, they were picking newly fallen leaves.
Suddenly, Remeta let go of her bowl, and it fell to the ground. Her eyes went wide, and she began crying—a loud, distressed cry filled with pain.
“Remeta! Remeta!” Baski dropped her own bucket and ran to her.
Remeta’s eyes remained wild, staring at the space in front of her unseeing. “No, no, no!” She was crying. She shook her head.
It filled Baski with pain and panic at the sight. What was wrong with her daughter?
She grabbed hold of Remeta’s arms and shook her roughly. “What is it, Remeta? Talk to me! Please, talk to me!”
“No! Please, let them go! Let them go! They did nothing, nothing! You’re hurting Queen! And you’re hurting, Prince! Prince will leave! Queen will die! Stop, pleeeeeease!!” she screamed loudly.
“Stop! Remeta! What is it!? You’re scaring me!” Baski shouted in panic. She couldn’t understand her daughter. Was the former Remeta back?
The mad Remeta?
Tears filled Baski’s eyes when Remeta continued screaming and crying. “They did nothing! Leave Queen alone! They’re hurting Prince! Prince will leave!”
“It hurts! Mama, it hurts badly!” she screamed at her mother.
Baski tried to hug her, but she twisted out of her mother’s arms. “No! Please! Let her go!” She took off in a dead run out of the woods. Tears streaming down her eyes, she was screaming at the top of her lungs as she ran.
Her hair was like wild fire—her battered heart aching.
King Lucien did not like the feeling in his gut. He did not feel comfortable, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was out on a walk with his future queen. It was courting week, and he was determined to court her well. It was a duty required of him.
Lucien had long resigned himself to it, just like most of the kings out there who wanted the betterment of their kingdoms. His kingdom was most vulnerable because they had just gotten out from ten years of slavery and they were still picking up the pieces of their lives.
Besides, he had no illusions in his life. He also had no intention of seeing his people ever suffer again. They needed a queen. They needed an heir. His chest tightened—a different discomfort from the first. He watched Princess Kamara as she stood in front of the river. He sat on the wooden bench—the same spot he sat the night before with Danika.
The king’s mind was filled with her. He feared that if he breathed too much, he would take in that unique scent of hers. She had messed his head up all day. He came out to a walk with Princess Kamara, and he could only think of his walk with Danika. He did not want to be there with the princess. Instead, he wanted to be with his slave.
Strange. But it was a truth he understood. He scowled at the awareness. His brows knitted in thought.
Before, when he thought of the past, his head focused on his years in Mombana and the death of his family. Now, most of his memories were of the times he spent with Danika. It was weird and disturbing, but it was what it was.
“Your Highness?”
The voice of the princess had him coming out of his own mind. “Mm?”
Princess Kamara couldn’t read it or figure out whatever was going through his mind. He had an unreadable look on his face, but she would have sworn that he wasn’t enjoying her company. She didn’t feel bad about it. Her Callan occupied her mind.
“I said that this place is beautiful. Have you ever been here in the past, Your Highness?”
“Yes. I have been here.” He looked around the place and could only see Danika standing there. The bad feeling in his gut returned tenfold.
Kamara did not know what was on the king’s mind, but she knew that something was bothering him. She couldn’t ask what it was for fear of overstepping her boundaries. Harsh lines marked his face lines, and he was scowling. His blue eyes met hers again, and they took her back to that very day Callan talked to her for the first time. Callan was not a talker, and he had always avoided her because of their difference in status. He was never so close to her, but she never minded.
Staring into the king’s startling blue eyes, she wondered if Callan was thinking of her.
Her heart squeezed in her chest, and tears burned her eyes. Loving one man and getting married to another.
That was pure torture.
Sally did not like the feeling in her gut at all. It wasn’t a good feeling. It wasn’t sitting well with her. She sat uncomfortably in the mistress’s bedroom and waited for her to come back from wherever she went to. The maid had told her that the mistress would be with her shortly.
“Shortly” was turning out to be such a long time. Sally sighed and forced herself to keep waiting. But she was restless. So, so restless.
Sally stood and walked towards the window that overlooked the front lane in search of the mistress. The coast was clear; there was no sight of her. Her shoulders drew in and she waited. She left her princess alone in the market. The people hated her, but they wouldn’t attack her unnecessarily, that much she knew.
The princess has been sick for a few weeks now, her mind whispered in remembrance. What if she faints in the market and there’s no one to help her?
Sally swallowed and tried to dismiss the unfounded fears.
What if she faints and someone who hated her father takes her away and hurt her badly? Sally tried not to think of that, but she couldn’t sit still. Her princess was alone and unprotected in a market filled with people who hated her.
She turned towards the door, then stopped. The Wicked Witch of the West would punish her severely if she returned and didn’t find her. Could she risk her wrath? Sally didn’t even wait for her mind to answer that. To discourage her. Her princess was above any other person.
She ran out of the room and looked around the hallway. It was empty, so she snuck out of the mistress’s dwelling. Then she took off in a dead run.
She ran to their bedroom but didn’t find her princess. It confirmed that her princess wasn’t back from the market.
An uneasy feeling spread through her body. She ran straight out of the palace.