A Little Slave Girl by Lucky 97 (black female authors txt) 📕

reassured me, "I will protect you."

I had faith in him, and I was wanting to believe him. Badly. But, somehow, it was hard.

The doors swung open once more to admit us into the ballroom, underneath the stares of the vulture-like nobles.

Hundreds of eyes were fixed on us as we glided onto the dance floor, Luke's insecurities gone, vanishing under their gazes. He was every bit the perfect prince, taking my arm, twirling me around to the first waltz, talking to me energetically. He was cool, calm, and composed, doing everything a prince would do.

But they weren't staring at him.

They were staring at me.

"Relax," he whispered in my ear, swaying me from side to side, "everything is just perfect." He laughed quietly. "I told father that your name was the Red Maiden."

I smiled in return, enjoyment on my face, "and what did he say?"

"You have to introduce me to her," he said, mimicking the deepness of King Rupert, his voice dropping by several pitches. I laughed.

"Almost perfect," I nodded with approval, then whispered in his ear, "only a few more gray hairs and you'll capture his essence perfectly."

I would've never said that to a noble or anyone of higher rank, and normally they'd be terribly offended if I did so, but he just chuckled. Then, he lowered his lips to my ear as we danced, and said, "You know what they're thinking right now?"

I shook my head, nearly whacking him in the process.

"They're thinking... who is this beautiful Egyptian girl who dances so wonderfully, the one with the perfect figure that even Princess Marilyn lacks?" he mischievously whispered, making me blush.

"She does not! She-"

"Anyone can tell she's wearing one of those ghastly corsets, puffing her chest out as far as she can to impress us all," he shook his head regretfully, "Princess Marilyn starves for attention, and she'll do anything to get it."

I looked at her, dancing with an old man, looking like she'd swallowed a lemon. She obviously would rather be dancing with the stunning Prince Lucas, and I couldn't blame her. He WAS the handsomest bachelor in the room.

"Go dance with Princess Marilyn," I said, feeling pity for her.

"No," he was adamant in his decision.

"Please. You can see how she is miserable!" I argued.

"She's cold, heartless, and doesn't deserve your pity."

"For me?" I asked softly, and he sighed.

"For you," he kissed the top of my forehead, then walked over to Princess Marilyn. I walked off the dance floor, watching them to make sure he wasn't mean to her.

But he wasn't. In fact, he was treating her wonderfully, bowing, kissing her hand, smiling when she spoke. They were perfect dancers too, dancing the waltz perfectly, until I was dizzy from watching their frenzied movements.

A stab of jealousy hit me when I saw his beautiful face alight with happiness. He was enjoying Princess Marilyn's presence. She was obviously enjoying his presence, with the way she batted her impossibly long eyelashes at him, her slightly parted, ruby red lips pouting at him temptingly. They were perfect for each other.

I turned away, suddenly sickened.

I could see King Rupert coming my way, and I quickly patted my dress, making sure everything was in place.

"Hello," he said, "I am King Rupert, Prince Lucas's father."

"Your Majesty," I curtsied in return, trying to make even my words enchanting, melting like delicious syrup through my teeth.

"I heard from Lucas that your name is the Red Maiden," he said rather dubiously, making my heart jump.

"Well," I tried to mask my shock with sugar-coated sweetness, "that is one of my many names, yes."

"Where do you come from? England?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"What part?" he probed.

"Um, around here," I vaguely replied, caught off guard by his questions.

"Hello!" I saw a flash of gold, and Luke was right by me. He turned to me, "Do you want to dance?"

"Yes," anything to get away from the questions. Obviously, we were both through with King Rupert.

"Well, I look forward to finding out more about you," he said, his eyes narrowing, "tonight at dinner." Then, he walked away, off to converse with a noble.

Suddenly, I wasn't hungry at all.

"Don't worry about him," Luke said, "He's just curious. If I tell him the truth about you, he will at least be more accepting than my grandmother." He led me to the dance floor yet again, I growing dizzier with each step.

Suddenly, my arm brushes past anothers and I quickly look back to apologize. The room was heavily packed, but that was no excuse for touching a person without permission.

The person I had touched was Marilyn, looking at me furiously. "I'm sorry," I said coolly, trying not to give off an air that I was affected by her. She said nothing in return, looking elsewhere. But then, she returned her gaze to my faze, and her eyes widened. I knew exactly what that meant.

Marilyn had recognized me.

She disappeared into the heavy crowd just as quickly as she appeared, I shaking with fear. Lucas continued to pull me, his vise-like grip dragging me along with him. It was as if nothing happened, everyone talking amongst themselves, Luke still looking at me with a loving grin.

But the terror quickly consumed me.


Several hours had passed. I was worn out, tired from the endless sways, the turns, the twists, and the terrible twirls. Luke was talking to another man, seemingly engrossed in their political conversation. I, however, was standing by the punch bowl, filling my cup for the first time of this forbidden drink that I was never allowed to sip before. It was really delicious looking, red as a cherry, people gulping it down heartily.

I raised the cup, half full, to my lips, my parched throat yearning for a drop of that sweet, yummy goodness.

But then, it was snatched away.

"What?!" I asked furiously, as two men surrounded me, one of them gently placing my cup back on the counter. They chuckled as I looked at them in anger.

"Look at her," the man on my left mocked, "she's angry."

"Ooh," the other man grinned, "I'm so terrified!"

They both grabbed my arms, squeezing tightly, taking my breath away with their force. I closed my eyes with pain as they kept close to me so no one would notice, leading me to the door. "What are you doing?" I choked, then felt a rough, callused hand press against my mouth.

"No talking," one of the men ordered me.

I was endlessly dragged through hallways, tunnels, stairs, and rooms, I growing fainter and fainter as they dragged me along. I stumbled as they pulled me, and one of the men angrily swore.

"Keep up!" he demanded.

"Please..." I whispered, tears running down my cheeks. I didn't understand anything. Why they were taking me, why they were handling me so roughly. My makeup was smearing, my dress dirty from the dirt.

What did I do to be treated this way?

Finally, we reached our destination. The courtyard, a beautiful outdoor area that I had always longed to see. But not like this. Not now.

Princess Marilyn stood waiting, a firmness to her features that even I could not mimic for it's seriousness.

"You," she bitterly spat as I was brought before her, struggling. The man lifted his hand away from my lips, letting me speak.

"What are you doing?" I asked softly, frightened.

"Punishing a slave who doesn't know what she's doing," she smiled frightfully, her perfect teeth gleaming. I winced at the word slave, for the way she said it made it feel like a poisoned barb.

King Henry VI appeared, a man trailing behind him, wielding an axe. "What did you call me out here for?" he called irately.

"This girl," she gestured to me, "the one who's ruining our plan, is one of our SLAVES."

King Henry VI looked at me, expressionless. "You sure?"

"Yes," she nodded confidently, "she has been in forbidden rooms, done forbidden things, AND talked with a royal guest! She should be punished."

I begged King Henry VI with my eyes to stop the crazed Princess Marilyn, but he paid me no attention. "So you think killing this girl will solve our problems?"

My blood ran cold, my face turning chalk white.

"Exactly," she confirmed, "because then, Prince Lucas will fall for ME, we will marry, and then we could more easily work out a treaty with France. Then, they would leave their capital with less defenses around it, going to repair and help the people of France to recover from the war, and then we could attack, finally winning once and for all!" Then, she smiled frighteningly, her mesmerizing blue eyes fixed on me. "The attack starting by me murdering Prince Lucas,"

"No!" I screamed, yanking at my bondage, shooting furious glares at Princess Marilyn. I couldn't let this happen. I had to save the man I loved.

She just laughed cruelly. I looked to the king for support. "Please..." I begged him, "don't kill Prince Lucas! Killing me is fine, but don't hurt him!"

But he was smiling too. "Perfect plan, Marilyn. You're starting to sound like a good future queen," he nodded approvingly.

I was doomed.

Prince Henry VI nodded, and the man behind him stepped forwards. "Lay her on the block," he demanded, and the men obeyed. I screamed and struggled, but it was no use. They were too strong for me.

I started to see dots in front of my eyes, redness taking over, adrenaline pumping through my body. Then, as they held me on the block, I slumped over, my struggling over. I gave up.

It was all over.


I hoped that I would meet Luke in heaven.


There was a flash of silver, and the last thing I saw was the form of a man, his hair golden, his actions unknown to me.

A blinding pain, then nothing.


♪ Coda ♪

A bright light filled my vision as my eyes fluttered open.

Was this heaven?

The objects in my view were blurry, unable to distinguish. A golden blob floated above me, with no shape or form.

"She's awake!" I heard a mesmerizing, musical voice, and then the pounding of feet. Another blob stood before me, his bulk filling my sight. I felt a warm hand on my forehead, the big blob still too close for comfort.

"Yes," the blob agreed, "and her fever is gone."

Everything suddenly shifted into focus, and I recognized Luke in front of me, the other man obviously a doctor. I looked at them both, puzzled. "Why am I not dead?" I asked.

For clearly I wasn't. I could move my hands, my toes wiggling at my command.

I was laying on a comfy bed, in a large, airy room that comforted me. I wore a long, loose dress that came to my feet, an ugly one that nearly made me gag.

"I pushed you out of the way," Lucas said plainly.

"What?" I was still confused.

"I pushed you off the block before they could kill you," he stared