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this
slave does fear being sold. She has no one left at home - raiders killed
her family. A horrible man bought her before Ellys took her away. Another owner
might be crueler than you... Master."
    I feared I would be passed from
hand to hand until I was all used up. I was alone and vulnerable, and anxious
to cling to whoever would protect me. The small morsels of kindness I’d
received from Ellys and Atshye, as well as the Prince, were enough.
    "And it helps that I have a
palace and a throne, yes?" He asked, tipping back his tankard to drink
deeply of the bitter liquid.
    I gritted my teeth, blinking
several times as I fought to hold his gaze. This man was infuriating.
    "This slave has been
treated well here." I said.
    It wasn't a lie. Compared to my
treatment at the hands of the raiders, and some of the things I had seen happen
to other slaves, I had been treated well here.
    I was somewhat ashamed of myself
for the thought, but the fact remained: this was a palace, where even the
slaves ate better than I had eaten at home on the farm. I was scared of losing
that for the unknown, which was almost sure to be worse.
    "Stop."
    "Master?"
    "Stop talking like
that." He said, scowling. "You may be my property, but you are not a
dog. You are allowed to say 'me, I.'"
    I sighed in relief and inclined
my head. "Thank you, Master. I have been treated well here, and
Atshye-"
    "Ah." He rolled his
eyes, smirking. "Indari's pet. Yes."
    "...She has been
kind." I finished.
    "She gets away with too
much." The Prince retorted. "Don't expect me to be so lenient."
    I fell silent, but couldn't help
the flicker of hope I felt at his words. "Does that mean you will keep
me?" I asked quietly.
    He cursed again, throwing his
head back to stare at the ceiling, then regarded me for a long moment. "I
don't need you." He said.
    My shoulders slumped and I
hastily wiped the back of my hand to across my face to catch a tear as it ran
down my cheek.
    “I could set you free.” He said
quietly. I wondered if it was pity I heard.
    I said nothing. I knew that
would be as good as a death sentence. I would be a young woman on my own in a
foreign land, and someone was bound to take advantage of that in one way or
another. From all I had heard from Ellys and the sailors on journey, Cimbra was
not always easy for women, and worse for foreigners. I would end up enslaved
again, or worse.
    He spoke quietly in Cimbrai as
though holding a debate with himself. I looked up at him, but I couldn't
understand his words.
    “My father would be angry.” He
said.
    I just looked at him, defeated.
My lower lip quivered and my eyes threatened to spill more tears. The prince
looked frustrated, like he wanted to grab and shake me.
    “Stop crying.” He said, as
though I could turn it off at will. I blinked hard, and tried nonetheless.
After a while I picked at the food again, still hungry but somehow lacking
enthusiasm for the meal. The tension was thick between us, the atmosphere
uncomfortable.
    The prince drained another
tankard and rose. “Call for water.” He said. “I will bathe now.”
    I was glad to have instructions. It gave
me something to do. Besides – in my mind, every order he gave me made it more
likely that he would keep me. I pulled the chain that rang the servants' bell
and when a girl came and meekly knocked, I opened the door a crack and asked
her to bring bathwater.
    The girl soon returned with
four others. They brought steaming water in huge jugs and pails. I tried to
help them, but they pushed past and ignored me. I was only a slave like them,
but they seemed to want nothing to do with me. So I stood uselessly,
supervising as they trailed in and out of the bathing room and filled the large
iron tub.
    After their final trip in
and out, the five girls bowed their heads to me one by one as they left with
their empty jugs. I mimicked their actions, bowing in turn and closing the door
after them.
    I didn't know where the
prince was, so I went to look for him. I