HER PLEAS AND THE KNOWLEDGE NO ONE KNOWSW
hen Sally ran out of the dungeon, Vetta could only laugh as she watched Danika shake on her knees.
The slave couldn’t do a thing. The king permitted her to torture Danika, and nobody could do anything about it.
Vetta gave the guards a sign, an order for them to stop whipping her. They bowed their heads. She stared at Danika. “See? Even the slave you charmed has left you,” she drawled as she walked close to the slave in front of her.
Danika could barely hear the woman. Everything hurt. Her back was on fire. Her body no longer felt like her own. Tears fell from her eyes in waves, her frame trembling while the mistress laughed and ranted in front of her.
“I will enjoy doing this to you daily. Torturing you is a special fun on its own. The king has been way too kind to you. I’d have said you charmed him, but I know the king is not some weakling of a man your witchery will work on,” Vetta said.
The coppery taste of blood inside Danika’s mouth overwhelmed her senses. She’d bitten the insides of her cheeks to keep from crying out.
She felt relief when she started drifting in and out of consciousness. Who knew—it just might be death finally knocking.
Sally ran from the dungeon, hoping to find help for her princess. Even if she had to ask the king himself. Just the thought of it had her throat tightening. The king was not the kind of person just anybody met… let alone giving unsolicited complaints or random requests for help.
As she ran around another corner, Sally saw Baski. “Madam, Baski! Madam Baski!” she cried with tears in her eyes.
Baski took one look at her and was concerned. “What’s the problem, dear? You’ll lose your breath. Heavens, you’re running so fast!”
Sally’s knees hit the ground, and she desperately grabbed Baski’s garment. “Please! Please, y-you’ve got to help m-m-me, please!” She was sobbing so hard it was difficult to make out her words.
“Help you with what, dear? And calm down so you don’t faint.”
“My princess. M-my princess! The mistress wants to kill her! They’re in the dungeon and sh-she… oh, Madam Baski, she’s in so much pain!” She sobbed uncontrollably, tears swimming down her eyes.
Mistress Vetta was torturing the king’s slave? “Oh, dear. I’m sure she has the king’s permission if she is doing that. There’s nothing I can do to help you.”
Sally only sobbed more, and she grabbed hold of the end of Baski’s robe. “P-please! Oh, pleeease! She’s w-whipping her, and her back… her back is all bloody! Please!”
Baski was torn. She didn’t have the power to intervene in the businesses of the king’s mistress. But the girl was crying so hard. She didn’t know what to do.
“The king is the only one that can intervene, my dear. I don’t have such powers. And you know… how the king feels about Danika,” Baski pointed out falteringly. “He would never intervene—especially if he’s the one that gave permission for it.”
“I know! I know, Madam Baski! I just wanna try! I have to try! Please, help me!”
“And the worst part is that the king said he didn’t want to be disturbed now. He didn’t sleep well last night, so I made him some herbs to help him sleep this morning.”
Sally shook her head tearfully. “She’ll die, she’ll die! The princess will die! They are whipping her so badly, and the mistress is p-playing with her collar!”
“Oh, dear,” Baski breathed helplessly.
“You just have to help me, Madam Baski, please! I know you’re a good woman. Please, h-help me!”
In the end, Baski agreed, even though she knew it wasan enormous risk. Not only was it the king’s mistress, but the slave involved was one the king had no liking for—not to mention that the king said he shouldn’t be disturbed.
Baski could smell the problems from a mile away. But she still took Sally because, just like every once-enslaved person of the Salem kingdom, she knew the good things this girl did to help them when they were still in captivity. “Make sure not to refer to the slave as a princess in front of the king,” she cautioned Sally on the way.
Sally nodded vigorously as they walked from the slave quarters to the royal quarters and into the hallway that led to the king’s chambers.
Baski walked past the guards. “May I come in, Your Highness?” she raised her voice and called out.
Silence. The silence stretched for many seconds, which stretched into minutes.
Baski held her breath and waited. Sally held her own breath and prayed all kinds of prayers in her mind.
They were giving up when they heard the gruff voice. “Enter.”
They released their breath, and Baski pushed the big door open. They entered the room.
The king still wore his royal garment, which he wore to court, and he was coming out of the library. “I gave orders not to be disturbed, Baski.”
Baski lowered her head. “I’m so sorry, my king.”
King Lucien’s eyes left Baski and drew on the familiar face of the girl beside her. Sally’s knees hit the ground, and she started crying earnestly.
“Oh, please, my king! I seek your help! I know I’m just a slave, but p-please, you have to h-help me to h-help her. Please, my king!” she cried, her head bowed.
King Lucien’s brow furrowed as he watched how hard the girl was crying, how violently her small body was trembling. “What is the matter?”
“It’s about my—your slave, Your Highness.” Sally swiped the tears from her eyes, staring at the king.
“What about her?” he asked in that flat tone of his.
Sally swallowed tightly, not knowing how to say this to him. “The mistress is t-torturing her in the dungeon!”
“I gave her permission to do so.” He turned away from Sally, effectively dismissing her.
“Oh, please, Your Highness, please! The mistress is going to kill her! She’s whipping her b-badly, and her back is a-all bloodied up! Please, Your Highness. She’s going to die!” She wept bitterly.
The king turned to face her. Saying nothing, he just stared at her.
Sally straightened her legs and lay down on the floor. She stretched her arms out, rubbing them together in a plea. She cried uncontrollably as she repeatedly cried, “Please, please, please.”
The sight was heartbreaking for Baski, and tears filled her eyes. She lowered her knees to the ground beside Sally, her head bowed. “Please, my king,” she whispered.