BITTER VETTAV
etta turned away from him. “Danika is overstepping her boundaries in the palace. After everything we suffered from at the hands of her father, we don’t need to suffer more in her filthy hands. The king hates her very much; he wants to keep her as his slave by his side. But I want her beaten and defiled. So many look at her and still see her former status,” she hissed. “I don’t know how that is possible when she’s dressed in rags, but I want to put an end to that, too.”
She allowed him a moment to digest that, then she continued. “The king still sees her that way because he is the only male that has taken sexual pleasures from her body. He deflowered her.”
“But I heard that the kings have introduced her,” he said, still reeling from the knowledge that it was the king that deflowered Danika, and that could have only been months ago when she became a slave.
Virgins in their world were as rare as snow in summer. It was impossible, except for young females under the age of twelve. Even privileged females have ordered their slaves to pleasure them from time to time. And she had been a pure, untouched female a few months ago? Just the thought hardened his dick for her after weeks of trying to put her from his mind.
“Yes, the king introduced her… to kings. Men of privileged status. They are the only ones who have known her body,” she resented. “She is a slave, and a slave should tumble with the lowborn and the lowest of the low. She still carries herself like a princess. But when she truly tumbles with the lowborn, then she will see herself as the trash she is. The king will see her as one because we will make it look like she was the slut that begged for it. He is an unpredictable man; he might even order her execution.”
Karandy nodded his understanding, listening attentively.
Vetta looked away. “When I was a slave, I never forgot the way it felt when an unwashed man forced his body on mine. No matter how you wash, you still feel dirty—even though I was born a slave. I want Danika to know that feeling. She was born a princess, so the feeling will be worse. The king’s aversion for human touch was because of this,” she revealed.
“The king hates human touch?” he asked.
“Everybody’s.” Except for Danika, she fumed in her mind, remembering what she saw the previous night.
Karandy wasn’t offended by her throwing his lowborn status in his face. Instead, he kept himself from feeling too excited about where this was leading. “So, what is the plan?” he asked.
“I will send the messenger bird to you when it’s time. I will bring the slave out of the palace into the woods. You and any number of men you come with can attack us; throw me aside because I’m not the late King Cone’s daughter. After all, you all came specifically for her. You can have your way with her. Whatever you want to do, but don’t kill her.” Vetta looked at her manicured nails with a little smile on her face. “I need to see the results, so don’t kill her. I want to watch the life drain out of her while she’s still alive, and I want the king to watch it, too.”
Karandy always knew that this mistress had a wicked streak in her—he had always suspected it whenever he saw her in town—but now, he knew fully what she was capable of. He almost pitied Cone’s daughter. Almost. He bet she was still traumatized from whatever those kings had done to her in that courtroom. The woman carried her body like it was made of gold. And it was gold.
She was a princess. Not just any princess, but the princess of the Mombana kingdom, the most powerful of the twelve kingdoms. So, yes, her beautiful body was indeed gold, coupled with the fact that she was unsoiled months ago and had only known the beds of kings—men who had been in power so long they didn’t know how to love a woman’s body anymore.
“Your wish is my command, Mistress. I can’t wait to hear from the messenger bird.” He licked his lips; his dick fully lengthened at the plan. What he knew was to come. He couldn’t wait to put his hands on Danika. The things he would do to her.
Revenge and lust clouded his mind.
“Good.” Vetta threw a wrapped sack of coins at him. “That is half of your payment. I will give you the rest when it’s done.”
His eyes widened. It was a considerable amount of money; he thought as he pressed his hand to the coins. “Thank you so much, Mistress.”
She pulled her cloak over her head and walked past him to the door, swinging it open. “Wait for the messenger bird.”
She walked through the door and slammed it shut.