DAZEDB
aski finished mixing the concoction and forced Danika to drink it. . She was still unconscious, and the concoction was to make her sleep well.
Chad was already waiting by the door when she was done. She nodded her head, signaling that he could take her. He bent down and lifted Danika up the same way he carried her into her room—her midriff on his shoulder, her back in the air.
When they got to the king’s room, Lucien was sitting down behind his desk, writing. He didn’t look up when they entered.
“Make a bed for her down there.” He pointed to his own bed.
“Already on it, my king,” Baski replied.
Within minutes, she and Sally had another high enormous mattress on the floor beside the king’s bed and they spread a fresh new bed sheet on it.
Chad laid Danika face down on the bed and gently turned her head to the side. They watched her even breathing for a few seconds before they turned away.
Sally was uncomfortable with this development. The king hated the princess and now he wanted her to sleep in his room? What if he killed her at night?
“You can all leave,” he said.
They bowed to the king and the three of them left.
Sally came out of the door, her heart in her throat. She kept looking back at the door of his chambers as she walked, filled with uncertainty.
“She’ll be fine. Trust me.” Baski’s voice drew her attention to the older woman’s face.
Sally nodded. “Thank you so much, Madam Baski.”
Her lips curved into a little smile. “You don’t have to thank me, my dear,” she said simply before she walked ahead of her. Sally followed her obediently.
King Lucien raised his head from his scroll and allowed himself to stare at the woman who was asleep in his room.
The bed she laid in belonged to Melia. Ugly memories of the day of Melia’s death rose in his mind, and he closed his eyes tight to stem those thoughts. But they wouldn’t go.
Eighteen-year-old Melia, who had just married and was heavy with her first child, happy that her husband allowed her to see her family for the first time since she got married.
King Lucien could still remember the look of horror on her face when Cone’s men stormed into the library where both were. He could remember the terror on her face when they cut her open with a sword, and they took him away as he watched his sister bleed to death.
King Lucien stopped writing and closed his eyes tightly to shut the memories away. The beginning of hell.
Vetta sat in the wooden chair in her room, restless. The king gave her house arrest. The more she thought about it, the harder it was for her to believe.
Freedom was the most important thing to a slave. The king knew that. Giving her house arrest for three whole days showed how angry he was at her.
Vetta stood. She didn’t want things to be like this. She thought about going to the king’s room. Who knew? A good blowjob might work well in her favor.
But the king was too angry, and it was too early. She had stayed just five hours in her room, and already, she needed freedom. How would she survive a 72-hour house arrest!?
A knock came on the door. “Mistress, your food has arrived.”
“Come in,” she ordered, going towards her bed, and lowering herself onto it.
The maid silently entered and served her food on the table. Vetta was curious to know what was happening outside her room.
“The king’s slave… what’s going on with her?” she asked.
“Oh, I heard that Madam Baski and Sally just finished applying herbs on her. They went into the woods hours ago to get the Albolko and other rare herbs, too.”
“And what about her? Is she conscious yet?”
“I don’t think so, Mistress.”
Pleasure washed over Vetta. She hoped the woman would die. No, on second thought, she shouldn’t die now because the king would only hate Vetta for killing his slave. No, there would be other opportunities for death. Now was just a time to make her suffer.
The maid finished, came closer, and lowered her voice. “There’s a rumor going around among the maids, servants and slaves, Mistress.”
That piqued Vetta’s interest. “What is that?”
The maid looked around carefully and whispered, “There’s a rumor that they took the slave princess to the king’s room. That’s where she is.”
“What!?” Fiery anger washed through Vetta. “What did you just say!?”
The intensity of her anger surprised the maid and scared her. She drew back and began backpedaling. “Well, I… it’s just a rumor, Mistress.”
“But is the slave still in her room?”
“The slave princess?”
Vetta hated that name. She didn’t enjoy hearing the word ‘princess’ attached to Danika; it made her furious. She was a slave now, and a slave would always remain a slave.
“Yes, Danika.” She spat the name with venom.
The maid shook her head. “No, she’s not in her room, Mistress.”
Could it be that the rumors were true? She couldn’t imagine the king giving such a decree, but could it be true!?
Vetta dismissed the maid, still seething in rage. She would punish Danika because she had the arrogance of sleeping in the king’s bed.
Could it truly be that her punishment had put the bitch even closer to the king’s bed?
Vetta hoped this wasn’t true. She just hoped it wasn’t!
Hours later, King Lucien was sleeping when he heard whimpering and cries. He took sleeping pills, but sleep was always far to come. And when it came, it didn’t stay.
He knew it was the middle of the night when he woke. He stared down at his bed to see where the cries were coming from. It was Danika.
Her eyes were still closed, but it was obvious she was having a terrible nightmare.
Not being a stranger to nightmares, King Lucien knew it must be because of the events of the day knocking around her subconscious.
When Baski and the slave, Sally, came back from herb-hunting, they’d taken Danika back to her room and applied the herbs. She was supposed to stay in her room, but there was too much noise on the other side of the palace. Baski had implored him to let Danika sleep in his chambers, and she’d promised to stay a room away so that she’d be available if they needed her in the middle of the night.
King Lucien didn’t call her, though. Instead, he got out of bed and took a cup of drinking water from his table. He climbed into Danika’s bed and raised her head up. He pushed the cup to her mouth, but she whimpered, clamping her mouth shut.
“Open up, Danika,” he ordered roughly.
Her eyes slowly opened, and she gazed at him through dazed eyes. “My king.”
He stiffened. He was her master, not her king. Since the first day he corrected her in the dungeon, she hadn’t called him the name again.
“My king,” she whispered again, her dazed eyes staring at his features.
“Drink up,” he said, pushing the cup towards her mouth.
“It’s not… poisoned?” she whispered, sweat forming on her forehead.
His brows furrowed. “Why would it be?”
“Because… you… h-hate… me… so much.”
“I’d never try to kill you through poisoning.”
Her head rolled to one side, and suddenly, she was lying in his arms. “I’ll take it… because your… word… is… gold.”
Her mouth found the water, and she drank in large gulps, her hand tightening on his robe. King Lucien didn’t like physical contact, but he allowed it.
He knew she wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.
When she was done, he withdrew the cup and tried to get up, but she clung to him, her dazed eyes staring at his. “What is wrong with me?”
“You’re heavily sedated on pills and potions.”
“So cold.”
“You’re cold?” he asked with a furrowed brow, knowing that the room was not cold at all.
“Your… eyes… they’re so cold,” she whispered drowsily.