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crept slowly and hesitantly, as though
I was walking on eggshells. I didn't know the proper way to behave. How were
house slaves in Cimbra supposed to act? No one had told me the rules.
    I hesitated for a long
moment before knocking on the door to his bed chamber, worried I would
antagonize him by disturbing him.
    "Eai?" Came the
reply.
    "Your bath is ready,
my Lord." I said.
    The door was wrenched open
abruptly before I had finished, and I gasped and took a step back. He only
glanced at me for a moment before stalking past, into the bathing room. I
stayed where I was, unsure what was expected of me.
    I thought of my bath with
Atshye: the way she had washed me and oiled me with her hands. I bit my lip as
I waited, certain he would tell me to follow him into the bathing room.
    After a few steps, he
turned back, and it looked like he was considering something for a long few
seconds. “You should rest.” He finally said, looking away.
    Relief flooded me. I was so
overwrought from the stress of the day and so exhausted from running on very
little good sleep. It must have been
obvious how tired I was. I was grateful for his kindness, in this at least.
    I curtseyed. “Thank you, my
Lord,” I said honestly, as he closed the door behind him.

Chapter
4
    I didn't expect to sleep easily,
but somehow I did. When I woke, it was in confusion. For a moment I couldn't
remember where I was.
    I had laid down on the divan in
front of the fire, which was now nothing more than cold ash. There was a light
woven blanket covering me. He must have put it there. I let it fall to
the floor as I sat up. I looked around, and everything came flooding back. My
preparation, the venomous queen, meeting my new master. His questions; our
conversation.
    Now that I wasn't so exhausted,
my thoughts were clearer.
    I hadn't lied to him about my
fears. But there was another thing I had been reluctant to admit even to
myself. This morning it was harder to deny.
    This Prince, Issander, intrigued
me in a way no other ever had.
    I had never had much time for
boys at home, working from dawn to dusk every day. Most girls were promised at
an early age, but for me there had never even been thought of marriage. My
father couldn't do without me on the farm, so I had put it out of my head,
assuming there would be time for it one day in the future.
    Sure, I had dreamed of what it
would be like to be married, with children and a house of my own. Perhaps even
being comfortable enough that I wouldn't have to fill every hour of every day
with back-breaking labor. But there had never been a specific target of my
fantasies.
    I'd barely had any contact with
men, save those I traded with in the village, and had no interest in the crude
farm-hands that drifted through. Not that they had spared much of a glance for
me – a small girl, perpetually dirty and tired, with her head either in her
work or in a book.
    This man, Prince Issander
was unlike any I'd ever seen - dark and handsome and so very masculine, with
his unreadable eyes and hot temper. His presence alone froze me and made me
tremble. He was so intimidating, and yet somehow enticing. I didn't understand
it.
    And the way he looked at me so
hungrily... like he wanted to devour me. I was some prey animal, a frightened
rabbit to his lion. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, either. All I knew is
that I was drawn to him.
    Yes, I was afraid of him. I was
scared of this place - of whatever was in store for me here. I was frightened
of being cast out for all the reasons I'd mentioned. But a small part of me was
also worried because if that happened, I would never see the prince again.
    I was still in the fog of many
hours of deep dreamless sleep. But I felt so much better. Rubbing my eyes, I
stood, smoothing my crumpled gown and trying to make it cover me sufficiently.
The sun was shining through the windows where the curtains were open, filling
the room with yellow morning light.
    I jumped in surprise when he came into the