In the comfort of his room, King Lucien wrote notes the financial status of the lower market of Salem and its improvements. Naturally, it should be the royal accountant writing about it, but he’d instructed the accountant to leave it. Not because of anything in particular, but it was a good way to exhaust the mind. Who knew—he might sleep relatively well tonight.
He considered going to Vetta’s room. Then he’d put the thought out of his mind. The financial books needed updating.
As he wrote, the girl’s screams banged around the back of his head. With each scribble, her agonizing scream rose in his head. And then he’d remembered Danika.
Today, he saw a different Danika. He saw the princess, and he saw the slave. He didn’t see Cone’s daughter.
As he wrote, her face stood at the back of hi
