Arabella Toussaint:
No one bothered to tell me what had really happened. I was shoved back into my little room... the one reserved for slaves like me.
My medication was stopped. No fancy meals anymore.
And to top it all off, they placed an electric collar around my neck. Now I was no longer a murderer’s sister.
I was now an accomplice. His helper. An equal participant.
A bitter laugh escaped me as I splashed water on my face.
And to think my life was about to transform ... the king perhaps had seen me more than a slave... he might have fallen for me. I giggled, wiping the water off my face.
The memory of last night flashed through my mind. King Lucien had slammed me against the wall so hard that my vision blurred.
"You disgusting piece of shit. All this time, you were pretending to be innocent. You and your brother are the same."
"A snake hiding in the grass."
Even now, I could almost feel his hand wrapped around my throat.
I didn’t feel like crying. This was my fate now. I was already branded as the murderer of my mother.
And now I had another murder attached to my name. The Royal family’s most beloved daughter.
I climbed onto my small bunk and stared at the ceiling above me. Just a few hours of kindness and I already imagined myself as the king’s beloved.
Ha-ha.
How delusional I was!
A warm bed. A healer. And a few concerned words... and actions. And I had started imagining things.
My body shook with laughter as I covered my mouth.
The way he dragged me through the corridors, holding my hair. The Royals seemed to enjoy it. I didn’t miss the mocking smirk on the queen’s face.
And how Aliya was trying so hard to hide her laughter.
"Is there anything good for me in this world?" I whispered to the Moon Goddess in between my laughter, "If you hated me so much, why did you create me in the first place? Only to be played around?"
The room remained silent. Of course. The Moon Goddess never answered my questions.
"Do you really exist?" I asked her silently, trying to ignore the unexpected pain in my chest.
Then I rolled my eyes and grabbed a thin pillow, dropping it over my face, "Arabella Toussaint," I muttered, "Back to the slave mode. Over and out!"
With that, I squeezed my eyes shut.
I needed my sleep because tomorrow would be a long day. Not only tomorrow but every other day would be a test for me. One little blunder and I’d lose my life.
"Don’t worry," I whispered into the pillow, "Death will be better than this kind of filthy life."
With a faint smile, I closed my eyes, not knowing what the next day would bring.
***
They offered me a warm butter roll, a boiled egg, and a small cup of coffee for breakfast. I finished every last bite while listening to Helena, who was assigning duties to the omegas.
After announcing duties for laundry, kitchen, and the west corridor, her eyes stayed on me. The room went quiet when they realized it was my turn. They still took me for some princess who didn’t know how to do such chores.
"Arabella Toussaint."
Several heads turned towards me as I straightened immediately, "Yes, ma’am."
Helena hesitated for a fraction of a second, and I saw a flash of guilt in her eyes. But then it vanished as soon as it appeared.
"You’re assigned..." she cleared her throat, "... to clean the warriors’ boots."
A collective gasp swept through the room. The omegas exchanged uneasy looks, and a few stared at me with pity.
"Sure, ma’am."
Without complaint, I took the bucket and cloth that were sitting in a corner and headed out on my knees.
I knelt right outside the training yard, waiting for the warriors to arrive.
***
"Is she the one marked by His Highness?" a warrior whispered as I scrubbed a pair of boots. I didn’t speak and kept doing my job with a lowered gaze.
A few of them gathered around me.
Some laughed, some even tried to touch me, but I stayed there silently, scrubbing every boot. Mud stained my fingers, and dirty water soaked my sleeves.
My knees began aching again, but I continued doing my work. Eventually, a spotless pair of black boots appeared before me. I automatically reached for them, but then I decided to look up.
Big mistake!
King Lucien was staring down at me. The hatred in those golden orbs was so obvious that I thought he might kill me right there.
I quickly lowered my gaze, "Your Majesty."
I picked up the wet cloth and reached toward his boot, but he jerked his foot away. I froze. Before I could understand, his boot came down on my fingers.
Pain shot through my hand, but I couldn’t even scream.
"I don’t want those filthy hands touching my boots, slave," his cold voice was enough to freeze my blood. The surrounding warriors fell silent.
His face had darkened, "Consider yourself lucky, I’m allowing you to remain in this place at all," his boot pressed harder into my hand, "You and your brother have already stained my life... don’t you dare breathe in my direction... you bitch!" before I could pull my hand back, his boot struck my cheek, knocking my face to the side.
"Helena!" He roared. A frightened Helena headed to us, "Make sure the bloody murderer never crosses my path!"
"Yes, your Highness," she bowed, but Lucien didn’t stop and stormed past us.
The warriors slowly stepped aside, avoiding my gaze. I remained kneeling on the ground. I could feel my cheek throbbing and my fingers trembling from the pain.
I pressed my hands on the floor to push myself up, but paused when the sound of heels echoed through the training yard.
A beautiful woman came into view, wearing a navy-blue gown that was far too revealing. Yet nobody dared to look at her. Her lips were painted a bold shade of red, making her look both glamorous and dangerous.
The warriors lowered their heads and started walking away, leaving Helena and me with that woman.
Who was she?
A royal?
She ignored everyone and walked straight toward me. Crouching down in front of me, her long fingers reached my chin, tilting me upward, "So this is the slave who is marked by the king..." Her gaze drifted to my neck, where half of my mark was visible above the collar of my uniform.
Her blue eyes turned frighteningly cold as she stared at my face, "Hmm. You aren’t even beautiful."
I stayed quiet because right now it was my best weapon. With a chuckle, she let go of my cheek, "Helena. Tend to her wounds."
Helena offered her a quick curtsy, "Sure, Freya ma’am."
So, her name was Freya. Hmm.
Once she left, Helena helped me up, "Let’s go, Arabella."