The Princess Slave

Violette POV

“How does it feel?” Beatrice asked. I scrunched my face up as I wrote on the paper.

-it hurts constantly.- I wrote.

“I’m sorry, dear.. I’ll mix something up. What about your pains? How have they been?” She asked.

-nothing. They haven’t happened since that last time.- I wrote. She nodded her head. She mixed some herbs into a cup of hot water, then poured some honey into it. She put a straw into the cup and handed it to me.

“I’m.. glad you’re not throwing things anymore.” She said softly. I only nodded in response. I began drinking her mixture, the warmth of it felt good in my throat.

Master spent yesterday with me after the bath. He fed me soft foods.. things that didn’t require big swallows. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I’d finished the entirety of it.. then asked for more. He also read to me.. which was oddly comforting. And I ended up falling asleep. When I woke this morning, there was only a faint scent of him left behind.

-I’m sorry.- I wrote as I cried. Tears poured down my face but I quickly wiped them away. I hated crying. Crying is not my thing.. it never really has been. But lately I seemed to be doing much more of it than ever.

“Don’t be sorry, dear. None of us could imagine what you’re dealing with. We only see the outside. Not what’s on the inside. It was a traumatic thing for you to experience.. you’ll likely have bouts of depression and anxiety because of it.” She said softly. I finished her mixture and handed her the cup.

-may I work, today?- I asked. She looked at me with worry in her eyes.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

“No. You will not be working for quite some time. We need your Father to believe you’re.. dead.. so that he may not try again.” She said.

-then what will I do?- I asked. I didn’t want to do nothing.. I’m a busy body, and I need the distraction of having something.. anything to do.

“Read. Write. Spend time with the girls.. maybe practice on trying to speak?” She asked that last part with care.. she knows speaking is a tough subject for me right now.

-I’ve tried. Nothing comes out. It’s just silence, Beatrice. What if I never speak again?- I asked. She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh.

“I believe you will with time and patience. And lots of effort. You had quite a lot of damage. I hate to say it.. I’m not trying to make light of it, but you got very lucky.” She said. I let out a breath.

-I will practice. May I have some alone time?- I asked. She put her hand on my shoulder and smiled softly.

“Of course. Just have one of the guards mind-link me if you need anything.” She said softly. She stepped out of the room and shut the door. I lay in bed and covered myself up, curling into a ball.

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth and tried to speak.. but all that came out was the sound of my breath. I hate this.. I hate it more than anything.

I wrapped my fingers in my hair and pulled. I will never be able to speak. Tears soaked my sheets as I cried. I can’t do anything. I’m useless. I can’t help around the castle, I can’t speak, I can’t be happy..

After a moment of crying, I pushed the covers off and stood up. I will write.. I will write it all out.. I need to get it out before it eats me alive.

I walked over to my desk and took a seat. I pulled out a fresh quill and paper, then dipped the quill in my ink. For the first few minutes.. my hand hovered over the paper dripping ink onto it. I didn’t even know where to start..

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. You can do this.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

I was picking up picnic blankets.. it was dark out, the moon high in the sky. My stomach was still fuzzy feeling from the wine, and my head was all swimmy. I watched Beatrice and the others across the yard laughing and cleaning up.. and a bright smile came to my face to see my friends so happy.

I heard the snap of a twig and I turned around, only to be blindsided by a man who had no scent. He smacked me over the head and for a moment everything went dark..

My eyes fluttered open as my feet were being dragged on the ground. Where am I? I looked for my friends but they were no longer there. I began kicking my legs.. I tried to scream but a hand covered my mouth, muffling any sound I tried to make.

I tried to shift.. but I felt weak and not even my claws would come. I knew I’d been poisoned with wolfsbane.. and it was enough to make me feel tired.. I was afraid it was far too much. I threw my hands back and grabbed his face, jamming my thumbs into his eyes and he let me go.

“Vik-“ he cut me off as jammed the end of a knife into my chest hard. I sucked in a deep breath of air and he grabbed me by my hair. That’s when I smelled Viktor. When I saw him searching around the area frantically. His eyes shot in our direction, and that’s when the man spoke.

“King Arthur sends his regards.” The man said.. and then he slid the knife across my throat. I wanted to scream in pain.. it was the worst thing I’d ever felt in my life, but not a sound would come out. I grabbed my throat and felt the warmth of my b***d spilling out of me. It was slippery, and I could hardly hold my hands on the wound.

I heard growling and a ripping sound.. then lastly a thud as my world began to go dark.

This is it.. I’m dying. Maybe now I may rest with my mother and the Moon Goddess. Maybe now I won’t have to suffer the pains of my mate being unfaithful..

I was choking on my own b***d.. trying to catch my breath, to scream for Viktor.. but I couldn’t do anything. I could only lie there as my b***d filled my lungs.

“Shh.. shh. I got you.” I swore it was Viktor.. his scent filled my nose, and I began to feel like I was floating. I wondered if I was just imagining things from my loss of b***d, or if he was actually saving me.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next thing I remember I waking up in my room. I was told I’d woken up a few times before that, but Beatrice said I probably wouldn’t remember because of the herbs she’d given me. Or maybe it was PTSD.. just the trauma could be enough to make me forget.

All I know is I was scared for my life.. I was dying.. and the man who swore to punish me.. to kill me.. saved me. Yes, I’d hated him at first. But not anymore. He’d saved his slave. His enemy’s daughter. Me. And I owed him my life and so much more.