AWAKEV
etta couldn’t believe the sight in front of her. Her hand on the wall of the side of the window balled into a fist.
The king remained. He hadn’t raised his head. It was as if a bond was holding his head to her belly, and he wasn’t ready to pull away soon.
The sight hurt Vetta’s eyes too much. She reached for the doorknob of the bedroom, but Baski held her hand. It forced her to look at Baski’s face and the older woman was shaking her head. Baski wanted to talk, but she couldn’t do so there or they’d risk being seen by the king. So, she pulled Vetta away from the window and away from Danika’s bedroom until they reached the hallway on the other side of the palace.
“No, you can’t go in there, Vetta. Danika needs rest, and she doesn’t need to be disturbed at the moment,” Baski informed her.
Vetta almost snorted. She had no intention of going in there because she was worried for Danika. She wanted the king to see her and sever all physical contact with Danika.
“I heard all that happened. How is she?” she asked, feigning worry like she gave a damn.
“She is doing well. Hanging in there. She’s heavily sedated; she doesn’t need any disturbances.”
“Oh. She must be in a very bad shape.”
“She is,” Baski admitted. “But at least it’s a good thing that the two perpetrators were caught and they’re in the dungeon.”
Vetta’s heart stopped beating. “What!?”
Baski nodded. “Yes. So we will find some kind of justice for what happened to her.”
“Oh. I-I’m happy about that,” she forced out.
“Yeah, me too. If there’s a mastermind behind what happened, I wish nothing more than to see that person’s head dangling from a pole, separated from his or her body.” Baski’s eyes flashed angrily.
Vetta shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another.
“Anyway, you can’t disturb her tonight, Mistress—even if you’re worried,” Baski informed.
“I understand, Baski. I’ll go back in the morning to check on her. It’s too bad… what happened to her.” Her hands were still curved into fists. She really wanted to go into that bedroom. But Baski had always been too smart for an old slave. No, she had to keep pretending like she was worried out of her mind, like everyone else.
Vetta turned and began walking back to her bedroom. She couldn’t stop thinking about how the king had held Danika a few minutes ago. She couldn’t stop thinking about the crowd she met outside. She couldn’t forget that the two women were in prison and they might just rat on Karandy, and Karandy would rat on her.
Everything was a disaster. Everything.
She stomped angrily into her bedroom and slammed the door closed. She took up the flower vase from her table and threw it against the wall with an angry scream. It shattered. The anger was still boiling in her. And fear.
For a moment, she contemplated going straight to the dungeon tonight, but she couldn’t do that or everyone would get suspicious. No, she’d know how to handle that issue without being seen.
She squeezed her eyes closed and the image of the king holding onto Danika bled into her brain. It was courting week, and he didn’t even care! He wouldn’t come to her but he would leave his chamber to the bedroom of a slave, sit beside her sickbed and hold her hand in the dark of the night!?
He wouldn’t even let Vetta put her hands on him for long, for fuck’s sake!
Her window caught her attention, and she stormed towards it. There, the crowd gathered. They were all still there.
Most of them were praying in silence, while others had fallen asleep right there on the cold, hard ground. Something a once-slave would never want to do again. And they did it for the daughter of Cone!?
Vetta pulled off her clothes and laid down on her bed. Tears of anger, rage, and bitterness filled her eyes.
She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed.
King Lucien had fallen asleep when he felt the body beneath his head stir. He woke and raised his head from Danika’s belly to look at her. His hand still clutched hers. King Lucien knew it was way past midnight, but he did not think on it.
Danika’s swollen eyes slowly slid open, and she looked at him. Her eyes looked so tired.
“My king,” she whispered drowsily.
“I am not here,” he groaned. He never expected to stay until she woke. She was never supposed to know that he was there.
Her eyes blinked slowly. “No. I know you’re here.”
He averted his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. You’re heavily sedated with pills and potions; you won’t remember a thing in the morning.”
“I remembered… the last time.”
“You did?”
“Yes. You said you have forgotten… what it’s like to laugh.”
Silence. His eyes were taking in the bandage on her thigh. “It doesn’t matter. You’re more sedated this time.”
Danika’s eyes found her side where his hand was holding hers. “You’re probably right.” She dragged her eyes back to his face, and even in her drugged mind, she hadn’t wanted to call his attention to her hand he was clutching so he wouldn’t release it.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked. His eyes weren’t as cold. His face wasn’t blank, and he wasn’t scowling. In her drugged mind, Danika knew it was the first time she was seeing him that way.
“You look… so handsome like this.” Her voice was scratchy, she could barely say words.
He wasn’t expecting that. He shook his head. “I am not handsome, Danika. You will not think that if you were in your right mind.”
“But I think… about it all the… time… So handsome… beautiful… even with the scar… especially with the scar.”
He said nothing. But his eyes were observing her.
“How did you… get that scar?” Her eyes on his cheek showed that she meant the scar that ran down his cheek.
“Cone decided that he’d learn to draw a straight line and needed a place to practice. He used a white hot iron rod and carved my face up,” he stated flatly, his eyes darkened in memory.
Danika’s body hurt so much; she was afraid to move for the fear of shards of pain splintering through her body.
“How are you feeling, Danika?” he repeated, watching her carefully.
“My body hurts,” she whimpered, her voice slurred. “My child. What about my child?”
The king didn’t hesitate when he answered, “She’s fine. She’s sleeping with Baski.” He thought she was referring to Remeta.
He had noticed time and again that she spoke of Remeta like her own child, even though there were only a few years between them. Everyone in the palace knew how possessive she was of that girl.
“Oh,” she breathed out in relief, her head rolling to a side. “My body hurts.”
“The medicine man said that you will be fine. You have to be fine.” His voice was a harsh command. His hand tightened on hers.