She didn’t know Princess Kamara personally, but she could distinctly remember a tall and beautiful woman who was her age.
Was she a rebel?
Would she make life a worse hell for her than it already was?
Would she hate her more than the mistress did?
Would she hurt her?
The mistress’s mood had become blacker lately; she was always angry and raging—more than usual. Danika didn’t know why, but she did her best to keep out of her way. She didn’t want to be an outlet for the wicked mistress’s discontent.
The tears fell from her eyes and Danika wiped them clean. But wouldn’t it be better to be an outlet for the mistress? At least when the mistress whipped her, Danika was sure it hurt more than the pain she was feeling now. The only pain that competed with what she had been feeling lately
