Arabella Toussaint:
His liquid gold eyes popped into my head as soon as I woke up. Thank Goddess he wasn’t there. Expecting myself in the hospital, I looked around and was surprised when I found myself in my own room of the Omega quarters.
They moved me here in my sleep?
The way I cried and pleaded to the king. He seemed to be in so much pain. Or was it again fake sympathy?
I shuddered when I remembered how he dragged me in the hallways when he found out I might have helped Victor.
For me, it didn’t matter if there was only one murderer or multiple people were involved. I would stay here like a slave throughout my life, on my knees. Nothing was going to change that.
The good thing was that now I was getting used to kneeling for long hours. The exhaustion never attacked in the same way as it used to when I first arrived.
"You’re awake?" A girl who must be my age peeked inside the room and then stepped inside holding a steaming bowl, "Helena sent you some bone broth."
I wanted to make a face. I never liked bone broth, maybe because I always got the leftover one. In the end.
But this one smelled amazing. I was expecting her to leave my room after handing me the bowl, but no. She sat on the edge of the bed and nodded at me, "Drink while it’s still warm."
I took the first sip and looked at her with wide eyes, "It tastes good," She didn’t smile back, but I held the bowl and finished it within seconds.
However, I didn’t expect this loud burp to escape my mouth the moment I placed the bowl back. This time, a subtle smile appeared on her lips.
"I’m sorry," I rolled my lips between my teeth. The food in this palace was much, much better than my pack.
I didn’t know why all these shitty rules were for me just because I was a slave. Lower than the Omegas.
"Doing good?"
I looked up and found Helena standing in the doorway. The girl beside me immediately got to her feet, "Yes, ma’am," she said respectfully before leaving the room with an empty bowl. Helena watched her go and then turned her attention to me.
"How are you feeling?"
"I’m feeling much better."
"Good."
She walked to my bedside and checked my forehead with the back of her hand, "You need more rest."
I almost wanted to groan. More rest?
"I’m not sleepy, ma’am," I protested.
Helena grabbed my shoulders and gently pushed me back against the mattress, pulling the blanket over me.
"Go to sleep!" she ordered sternly, and today she sounded more like a mother hen. Seemed like someone switched her switches and changed her overnight.
"Ok," I exhaled, "I’ll try."
"You need to try harder, child."
Just as I was about to say something, the door suddenly burst open with a loud bang. Both of us jumped, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw who this was.
Queen Theodora.
She stormed inside, and my eyes didn’t miss the dark fury on her face. For one terrifying second, I genuinely thought that I had already died.
Her gaze swept across the room, "What is going on here?" she hissed. And then her eyes landed on me. She slowly strode towards me and stopped, "Who do you think you are, slave?" A sharp laugh left her lips that sent dread crawling through my chest, "A royal guest?"
My heart was hammering wildly inside my chest. Why was she here? All the treatments I received and all the care... I thought she knew.
Or was she also suffering multiple personality disorder, like her son?
I immediately lowered my gaze, but maybe that didn’t satisfy her. She turned to Helena, "And you..." Her voice grew frostier, "Does the royal family pay you to serve this trash?"
Poor Helena.
She straightened her shoulders, "Your Highness, she was unwell, and I was told to..."
Slap!
The sharp slap from the queen didn’t let her continue and made me flinch. Helena’s head snapped to one side from the force, yet she remained standing, looking down.
"Did I ask you to speak?" The queen spat, "Have you forgotten your place?"
Helena didn’t speak again. Her cheek had turned pink, and the mark of fingers was quite evident now.
"Listen very carefully, Helena!" The queen held her earlobe and gave it a subtle shove, "You. Are. Paid. To. Serve. Us! The royals. Do you hear me?"
Poor Helena hissed when the queen moved her face by holding her ear, "Stop treating a slave like she matters."
A cold knot formed in my stomach. Helena was a senior employee, yet the queen didn’t spare her.
Helena was standing there with a red face, avoiding eye contact.
"Do you hear me?" The queen roared, and I saw Helena closing her eyes.
"Y...yes... Your Highness," she tried to bow, but the sick lady was still holding her ear tightly.
That was getting too much.
I crawled down my bunk and held the queen’s leg, "Forgive me, Your Highness. Please spare her."
The queen seemed surprised to find me on the floor, pleading at her feet, "Let go of me, slave," she snapped, jerking her leg. I scrambled back and pressed my forehead on the floor in submission, "I’m sorry, my queen. It won’t happen again. I promise," I whispered while crying.
The queen stared down at me for a few seconds before turning toward Helena, "We’re expecting guests," she said coldly, "Take her to the kitchen. They need extra hands."
Then her cold gaze turned to me, "If I ever hear that you’re being served by royal servants, Arabella, I’ll have your meals thrown to the floor and ask you to eat them like a dog."
I lowered my head further.
Apparently satisfied, she turned to head for the door. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my hand, making me gasp. The queen’s heel had come down directly on my fingers and stayed there for a few moments.
A painful whimper was about to leave my lips, but I quickly gulped it down. Once she left, the door closed behind her.
The room was now silent, and my fingers throbbed painfully. I struggled to force my tears back and tried to get up. This time, Helena didn’t try to help me.
"G...go to the kitchen," she said shakily, "We don’t have much time."
I wiped my face with my good hand and nodded, "Yes."
Getting to my knees, I followed her out of the room.