MY DANIKAIt took a lot of convincing from Baski and Chad before Sally would believe that her princess wasn’t getting punished by anybody, and was instead taking care of the king. At first, Sally thought Baski was deceiving her to keep her away from the dungeon or anywhere her princess was getting punished. She had run to the dungeons in search of her princess, but she’d been unable to see her. She’d searched and searched.
Finally, Sally gave in to the urge to confront Sire Chad about it. Since the previous night, he had been avoiding her.
When she woke up in the morning with the memories of the things he did to her the night before, Sally felt betrayed and hurt that he would do something like that to her. But it was also Madam Baski that sat her down and told her bits and pieces of the things Sire Chad had been through—things that made tears roll down her eyes.
How could the former Mombana king be such a wicked man? How could he be the opposite of his father?
Madam Baski had told her that Chad had been disgusted with himself about what he did to her and that was why he was keeping his distance. After she heard that, Sally wanted to seek him out to tell him she forgave him for the things he did, but she had always been shy and uncertain about talking to him.
What if he pushed her away?
But now, she didn’t waste time giving it a second thought. Instead, she went in search of him and found him on the training grounds with some new guards.
“Can I t-talk to you for a minute, Sire Chad?” she whispered in a small voice.
He wanted to refuse. It was at the tip of his tongue to do so.
“Please,” she added.
He nodded in agreement and took her to a more private place. She’d told him the reason she was looking for him.
“I swear to you, Sally. Your princess isn’t getting tortured by anybody at this minute. She’s caring for the king in the king’s chambers.”
Convinced, Sally let out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sire Chad.”
Silence descended upon them—a very uncomfortable silence.
Sally bit her lips. “Sire Chad, about last night?”
His jaw locked, disgust flashed in his eyes. “I really apologize for that, Miss Sally. You can report me to the king for molestation, and I will get punished for it if it will make you accept my sincere apology—”
“Never! No, I’d never do something like that! I accept your apology; you weren’t in your right mind.”Her cheeks flushed. “The sire I know would never try to hurt me that way deliberately.”
He swallowed tightly. She was so pure; she radiated it even from a distance. So innocent, she shouldn’t be seen with a man like him—especially after what he did to her. The reminder made his heart burn. He bowed his head to her before he turned and started away, ignoring her voice as she called to him.
A man like him didn’t deserve such beautiful porcelain, so he didn’t ruin it.
One thing about porcelain was that they could get ruined and damaged in the wrong hands. That pure and innocent beauty deserved better.
After they left Danika alone with the king, her hand faltered. She stared at him—really allowed herself to stare at him.His eyes were closed; his face unconsciously relaxed. She noticed his scars. She looked at the long line that ran down his cheek, giving him a savage look.
Why did her father’s sins have to haunt her? Even after he was dead. Why did this have to happen?
The water was no longer as cold, Danika observed. Getting up from the bed, she took the water to the bathroom, where she poured it out and got some fresh, cold water. She resumed her seat by him and dipped the wet rag in the bowl to continue bathing his face and neck.
Although his temperature was coming down, he was still burning hot.
She bit her lip in indecision. For this to work, she’d have to bathe all parts of him with cold water. That was impossible. Unthinkable. The king would have her head for that.
I’ll bathe his chest and belly first, she thought. It was better than undressing him completely. He’d still have her head if he wanted to, but then again, maybe it was time.
Her wrongs against him only kept compounding. What was one more wrong compared to the others?
She put the rag in the dish and raised trembling hands to his shirt fastening. She picked and pulled at each one until they were undone. He had three more layers of clothing underneath, and she took her time undressing him until her hands finally touched the rough patches of his skin.
Slowly, she pulled all the shirts apart until she was staring at his naked chest and belly.
“Oh, Creator!” The horrified gasped escaped her throat before she could stop it.
Scars after scars crisscrossed his body. She recognized the lashes from a whip, and the knife marks.
Oh, heavens, this was too much! Too much! She lowered her head and wept silently, tears escaping her eyes. No wonder he was so sensitive about it.
“Why did you have to be a monster, Father? I looked up to you while I was growing up. Why did you have to be this way? What did he and his people ever do to you that you had to treat him like an animal!?”Danika sobbed softly into her hands, doing her best to control it so she wouldn’t wake the king.
She didn’t know how long she cried there, but when she raised her eyes towards the window, the blackness of the night showed that it had been a long time. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and resumed bathing him. A fierce feeling to protect him filled her.
Danika ran the wet rag from his neck down to his chest, massaging the scars carefully. How could he have ever thought that people would find him repulsive because of his scars?
She paused and looked up at his face. “Your scars are not something to be ashamed of, my king. They are battle scars. They are not repulsive; instead, they show just how brave you were. They show the lion in you more than the crown on your head ever will,” she whispered to him as she resumed bathing his body.
After his chest, she started towards his abdomen when he startled her.
“No, let him go! Declan did nothing to you! Let him go. P-please! Just…stop!” He jerked; his voice filled with so much pain it had Danika frozen for a second.
Something twisted in her chest at the look of sheer terror on his face, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. His hands balled into fists.
She dropped the rag and wrapped her arms around his body. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! These w-words will never be enough; it will erase nothing, but I’m so sorry!” she sobbed. She whispered the words to him, rubbing her hand up and down his chest. Her own chest tightened in pain. He started calming slowly, and she continued rubbing his body and whispering the words until he calm