Chapter 118

The king’s brows knitted together, and he scowled. “The princess?”

“Yes. Princess Kamara—your future bride!” she said through gritted teeth. It would be over her dead body the king would get married to that witch!

Silence met her outburst.

The muscle in his jaw ticked. He reached for a new feather and inked it in the bottle of ink in front of him. The silence only lengthened as he withdrew the inked feather and began drawing his letters again.

“My king!” she said impatiently.

“You know, Vetta, a king who wants to live long, does not get involved with the problems, commotions, and malice between his women: the queen, his mistresses and his slaves,” he lectured in a calm voice.

“But you got involved for the slave. And you warned me off her,” she reasoned, trying to keep her anger in check.

“The slaves are the lowest in the rank and the most mistreated. You were once a slave; you know this.”

Vetta did not like the reminder at all. “Yes, m