Fatima: The Slave Princess

From today onward, I will be on my own. Having adopted the role of a secretary, I find myself without a retainer; however, this is not concerning, as I am accustomed to self-reliance. Still…I would've liked to spend more time chatting the days away with Celia. Being around her was always a treat; her vibrant energy and incredible, captivating tales made her company truly delightful.

"Your highness can-"

"Shh! Celia, you must refer to me as Miss from now on. Remember?"

"Goodness! Where is my head? I completely forgot. This will take a while to get used to." She whined with a loud sigh.

"What I meant to say, Miss Lottie, is that…"

"Celia!" called a maid, who suddenly popped out of a nearby bush.

"Good heavens, Keleen! I nearly jumped out of my skin! You startled me."

"Hello Miss! Are you new? I have not seen you around before." She greeted me with a quick glance.

We've crossed paths many times around the palace before. She must not recognize me because of the wig. Good! This means my disguise is effective.

"Have you heard? Apparently, Madam Marietta is out of commission, and she's currently undergoing treatment at the imperial clinic. They said she lost so much blood that she nearly died of her injuries."

"Oh dear! What happened to her?"

"Sir Leonardo carried her there but offered no explanation for her stab wounds."

I need to change the subject quickly before she blurts out something inappropriate to the princess.

"Keleen, could you go fetch the garden gloves for the young miss here-"

"Who are you referring to?" she interrupted with a blank stare.

I turned around, and her highness was nowhere to be found.

"She went that way." Pointed Keleen.

That's the direction of…

+++++

"Please sir, I promise I won't take long."

"How many times have I told you to leave, miss? If you continue to raise a commotion here, I'll have no choice but to have you escorted out by force."

"But…"

It's my fault she's in there. If I had kept my mouth shut, maybe…

"What is with all this noise and shouting? I could hear your voices from all the way down the hall."

I know that voice.

"Greetings, captain! Greetings, commander!" shouted the guards.

With a confident stride, Sir Gabril approached alongside his companion, a man I assumed to be the captain, judging by the guards' respectful greeting. He was tall, his physique burly, his face chiseled, and his beard meticulously trimmed, creating a striking and intimidating presence. The feel of his gaze was heavy, and his silver eyes gleamed as he fixed me with a hostile stare, causing me to freeze.

"Young miss, I suggest you leave now before I lose my patience."

His deep voice, like distant thunder, rumbled and echoed menacingly through the vast halls as he loomed over me. My legs shook so violently that I could barely stand, and my heart hammered in my chest, making me want to flee. However, I do not plan on giving up. I absolutely must meet with Madam Marietta before the day is through.

"M-my sincere apologies for causing a disturbance. I am-"

"Miss Lottie?" interrupted sir Gabril as he covertly winked at me.

Thank goodness he seems to have recognized my voice. This wig is proving to be more cumbersome than I imagined it would be. Not only is it a lot shorter than my actual hair, it's also annoyingly silky and light. It is highly sensitive to movement and frequently comes into contact with my eyes.

"What brings you all the way here?"

"I…"

"Do you know this woman, commander Gabril?" the captain queried, his menacing glare instantly fading away.

"Yes, sir."

"Apologies for the late introduction. This is Miss Lottie, the crown prince's newly appointed secretary. Miss Lottie, meet Lord Beckford Wrotingthon, captain of the order of imperial guards."

Wrotingthon? Isn't that…

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Beckford. I sincerely apologize for the confusion."

"Likewise, Miss Lottie."

His secretary, eh?

"What brings you here, Miss Lottie?"

At first glance, her demure posture and soft voice suggested meekness. Yet when our eyes met, a sudden, icy chill shot down my spine, making my heart pound with a cautious apprehension. There was a subtle hum of power emanating from this woman, a tangible energy that convinced me she was no ordinary human.

~Moments later

In the most desolate corner of the room, far from any source of light or comfort, sat the bed of Madam Marietta. Her body, swathed in white bandages stained with her blood, lay still, punctuated only by the occasional groan of pain. It seems she is in a state of slumber. Could Nathan have positioned her there as a disciplinary measure?

"What happened to her after I left the room? Why is she in such a state?" I asked as I shifted my gaze towards Sir Gabril.

His eyes darted away, avoiding mine, as he hesitantly suggested I bring the situation to his highness's attention. It's akin to advising against curiosity or meddling in affairs that are better left unknown. Since that day in the garden, Nathan has been on the prickly side, his words sharp as thorns and his demeanor distant. He avoids me at every turn, barely making eye contact, and our conversations are terse, laced with an undercurrent of tension.

+++++

"I suppose there is nothing more to do if she keeps refusing to talk."

Valodum. A well-known prison, erected by the founding fathers for the pre-execution torture of vile criminals. In the furthest, most secluded corner of the structure, one finds a chamber devoid of windows, furnished only with a chair lacking a seat, and adorned with an array of peculiar contraptions hanging from its stone walls. The stench of death filled the air above the muddied, pebbled floor, stained with a mix of blood, sweat, and human secretions. Of all those brought to this place over the years, survival was a rare feat.

"Have her tongue and fingers severed and throw her in the slums by nightfall. Ensure that no one sees you." He instructed the scourger before proceeding to exit the room.

"As your highness commands."

Her face, a landscape of gashes and contusions, was so battered she was nearly unrecognizable. Despite that, she stubbornly refused to confess, her silence fueling the crown prince's already simmering rage.

"Leo…" he called, his voice rumbled in an echo.

"Yes, your highness."

"Find out where her family lives and bring them to me dead or alive."

"Y-your highness! Please have mercy! Please, I beg of you! I will tell you everything, so please don't hurt my family! Please!" she implored, her body writhing within the torturer's unrelenting grip.

I have previously interpreted his conduct as a cathartic response to the anger and frustration stemming from the situation involving Princess Charlotte. However, it seems he knew exactly what he was doing from the start. He's hunting for something considerably more substantial than the mere perpetrator of that distasteful prank.

"It was lady Florette! Florette Kartier was the one who ordered me to threaten the woman!"

He ceased his forward momentum, his countenance shifting instantly into a furious frown that served as an unmistakable warning to us all.