Page 20
Story: Downfall of a Princess
He jerked his head up, sucking in a sharp breath. His nostrils flared; his stare burrowed into me.
I realized how patronizing my words might have sounded. I wasn’t familiar with his entire situation. He wouldn’t tell me. But that didn’t give me the right to pass a judgment. As a slave, I supposed he didn’t have control over many things that happened in his life.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I didn’t mean it like that...” Reluctantly, I reached for the puppy. “I’ll take her.”
“No need to apologize,” he replied softly, gently placing Ria in my hands.
Our fingers touched, with his feeling warm and rough, like the sun-warmed bricks he worked with. I had a sudden feeling that a grip of a hand like that could be trusted to never let go.
“Salas!” a female voice sounded to my right. The older of the two bricklayers rushed to us, pulling on a shirt over her head.
Gem jerked on my arm, her stare narrowing on my hand on top of Salas’s palm. I held Ria in one hand but forgot to retrieve my other hand from him. His touch—the touch of a stranger—caused no discomfort. On the contrary, it put me at ease, as if it were a normal thing for us to hold hands like that.
The bricklayer got closer.
“I’m so sorry, Your Highness.” A ripple ofreflectionflashed across her skin, momentarily coloring her in green and blue—the colors of the sky and hedges surrounding us. It passed as she collected herself. “Is he bothering you? He’s normally quiet and hardworking but, sadly, has a temper as it turns out.”
“Salas was no bother,” I protested, finally reclaiming my hand from him. “He helped me catch my dog.”
“Oh, good, good.” She flicked a thumb over her shoulder and hissed under her breath at my puppy rescuer, “Get back to work, boy.”
With a bow to me, Salas turned to leave, seemingly relieved to be free of my company at last.
I stared at the dark-red spots on the back of his shirt as he walked away probably to fetch another mountain-load of bricks.
“He shouldn’t be working, not until he heals,” I pointed out.
The bricklayer stretched her neck with a grunt. “With all due respect, Your Highness, but what use would punishment be if slaves were allowed to take days off after?”
Ria whined, restless in my hands. I scratched behind her ear to calm her down, just like Salas had done.
“Why is he a slave?” I asked the woman.
Gem moved closer to me. “Your Highness, we really should go. I’m sure the queen—”
I ignored her, asking the bricklayer again, “How long has Salas been a slave?”
The older woman scratched her chest through her shirt. “I really don’t know, Your Highness. He just carries bricks for us and doesn’t talk much. His owner could answer all these questions for you if you wish. She lives in the city somewhere and doesn’t come out here often. But her helper is at the barracks. He’s the one who manages the slaves for her.”
Gem stepped forward, clearly determined to bring me back to the safety of the palace patio.
“Thank you for your answers, good woman.” She reached into the pocket of her dress, then left a silver coin in the bricklayer’s hand for her trouble. “We really should be going now. I believe your dog needs to use a bathroom, Your Highness.”
Ignoring the bricklayer’s bows and thanks, Gem maneuvered me back to the patio, along with our escort of the guards. Here, I kissed Ria on the nose and placed her in a basket for the maid to take her away for now. Satisfied I was no longer in any mortal danger, Gem released the guards too, then she paced the patio, giving me a glance every now and then.
“What?” I asked, sitting down in an armchair in the shade.
She stopped in front of me abruptly. “Why do you have such a sudden interest in that slave, Ari?”
“I don’t have any particular interest in him,” I protested. “I’m... I’m just a little curious.”
“Why?” She squinted at me, propping her hands on her hips. “What about him sparked your curiosity?”
What was so special about Salas?
What exactly did I want to know about him?
Surely, every one of the men in those barracks had a story to tell about how he ended up selling his freedom. Salas couldn’t be unique. Yes, he’d fought alone against six. But it was safe to assume he wasn’t the only one getting into brawls out there, either.
I realized how patronizing my words might have sounded. I wasn’t familiar with his entire situation. He wouldn’t tell me. But that didn’t give me the right to pass a judgment. As a slave, I supposed he didn’t have control over many things that happened in his life.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I didn’t mean it like that...” Reluctantly, I reached for the puppy. “I’ll take her.”
“No need to apologize,” he replied softly, gently placing Ria in my hands.
Our fingers touched, with his feeling warm and rough, like the sun-warmed bricks he worked with. I had a sudden feeling that a grip of a hand like that could be trusted to never let go.
“Salas!” a female voice sounded to my right. The older of the two bricklayers rushed to us, pulling on a shirt over her head.
Gem jerked on my arm, her stare narrowing on my hand on top of Salas’s palm. I held Ria in one hand but forgot to retrieve my other hand from him. His touch—the touch of a stranger—caused no discomfort. On the contrary, it put me at ease, as if it were a normal thing for us to hold hands like that.
The bricklayer got closer.
“I’m so sorry, Your Highness.” A ripple ofreflectionflashed across her skin, momentarily coloring her in green and blue—the colors of the sky and hedges surrounding us. It passed as she collected herself. “Is he bothering you? He’s normally quiet and hardworking but, sadly, has a temper as it turns out.”
“Salas was no bother,” I protested, finally reclaiming my hand from him. “He helped me catch my dog.”
“Oh, good, good.” She flicked a thumb over her shoulder and hissed under her breath at my puppy rescuer, “Get back to work, boy.”
With a bow to me, Salas turned to leave, seemingly relieved to be free of my company at last.
I stared at the dark-red spots on the back of his shirt as he walked away probably to fetch another mountain-load of bricks.
“He shouldn’t be working, not until he heals,” I pointed out.
The bricklayer stretched her neck with a grunt. “With all due respect, Your Highness, but what use would punishment be if slaves were allowed to take days off after?”
Ria whined, restless in my hands. I scratched behind her ear to calm her down, just like Salas had done.
“Why is he a slave?” I asked the woman.
Gem moved closer to me. “Your Highness, we really should go. I’m sure the queen—”
I ignored her, asking the bricklayer again, “How long has Salas been a slave?”
The older woman scratched her chest through her shirt. “I really don’t know, Your Highness. He just carries bricks for us and doesn’t talk much. His owner could answer all these questions for you if you wish. She lives in the city somewhere and doesn’t come out here often. But her helper is at the barracks. He’s the one who manages the slaves for her.”
Gem stepped forward, clearly determined to bring me back to the safety of the palace patio.
“Thank you for your answers, good woman.” She reached into the pocket of her dress, then left a silver coin in the bricklayer’s hand for her trouble. “We really should be going now. I believe your dog needs to use a bathroom, Your Highness.”
Ignoring the bricklayer’s bows and thanks, Gem maneuvered me back to the patio, along with our escort of the guards. Here, I kissed Ria on the nose and placed her in a basket for the maid to take her away for now. Satisfied I was no longer in any mortal danger, Gem released the guards too, then she paced the patio, giving me a glance every now and then.
“What?” I asked, sitting down in an armchair in the shade.
She stopped in front of me abruptly. “Why do you have such a sudden interest in that slave, Ari?”
“I don’t have any particular interest in him,” I protested. “I’m... I’m just a little curious.”
“Why?” She squinted at me, propping her hands on her hips. “What about him sparked your curiosity?”
What was so special about Salas?
What exactly did I want to know about him?
Surely, every one of the men in those barracks had a story to tell about how he ended up selling his freedom. Salas couldn’t be unique. Yes, he’d fought alone against six. But it was safe to assume he wasn’t the only one getting into brawls out there, either.
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