"I'm not really your merchandise, you know," Repentance said, selecting another potato from the basket on the floor. "You can't tell me what to think. What's inside is the real me, and that's between me and Providence. You can't own that part."
Jadin burst out laughing. "You are welcome to your insides, Repentance. I cannot package and sell them. No man cares to buy the thoughts of a silly girl."
Repentance felt as though she'd been slapped. Determined not to let Jadin see her cry, she swallowed down the tears, but she vented her anger by stabbing her knife deeply into the potato she held.
Jadin had gasped. "Give me that!" She'd snatched the potato and knife out of Repentance's hand. "I'll tell you what. You and Providence may have full control of your insides. But, know this: If I wanted your thoughts, I'd have them. Because I make the rules, not you. Is that understood, or should I send for Comfort so she can explain it to you?"
Repentance pulled her hand out from under her blanket and studied the white scar on her palm. It barely showed. Jadin had taken her off kitchen duty that day. She'd done no work of any kind after that, in fact.
She swam daily in the cool spring. Jadin encouraged her to exercise as long as she never went outside.
She pulled her robe on and headed down to swim.
Tawnic was in the hall at the foot of the stairs. She bowed. "Oh, pardon me, your highness," she said, "I didn't mean to breathe the same air you were breathing."
Repentance ignored her and headed for the pools.
"Jadin's girl," Tawnic said. "But not for long. The prince rides hard and you're too soft. Once he breaks you, you won't be worth two beads to anyone. See how much Jadin loves you then."
Repentance kept walking. She didn't need to listen to Tawnic. She'd heard it all before. Nineteen pleasure girls in the healing house—all overlords. And she, a slave, had a room on their floor. They all hated her.
She was sure Providence was laughing about that. When she'd left the swamp, she'd consoled herself with the thought that at least she'd be away from the foggy swamp and the villagers who hated her and whispered behind her back, calling her cursed. And there she was back in the heat, back in the fog, and more of an outcast than ever.
She dropped her robe, dove into the spring, and swam.
And she cried, letting the water wash her tears away.
She swam until her tears were spent and all the knots were gone from her muscles and until she was too tired to worry about how awful her night with the prince was going to be. Tawnic was lying about that, anyway. She had to be.
The dining room was empty by the time she got there. She always swam first so she could eat in peace.
Jadin entered, a bounce in her step and a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. "Had your swim? Good, you have to bathe and get dressed for the prince."
Repentance took a bite of scrambled egg cooked with ham and peppers and onions.
"And for the love of Providence, be sure to clean your mouth with mint. He's to arrive this afternoon. Why are you eating onions?" She pulled Repentance's plate away. "You don't need more, anyway. You'll eat dinner with the prince in a few hours. And you won't forget your manners." It was half question, half threat.
Repentance nodded.
"After dinner you'll go with him to the royal suite."
"Not the healing pool? Doesn't he come to soak in the hot springs?"
"The royal suite has a small healing tub. Plenty big for two."
Repentance's stomach clenched at the thought. "But then I'm not in need of healing," she said. "So it only needs to be big enough for one."
"I'm warning you, Repentance. One complaint from the prince, and I'll have Comfort brought over for breakfast tomorrow. And I don't mean she'll be here to dine."
"I can't help it if he complains. I don't know what to do." She looked at Jadin, pleading with her eyes. "I won't know what to do."
Jadin smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "Don't worry about that. The prince likes it that way. He'll teach you." She waggled her eyebrows.
"What if I displease him?"
"I'm telling you, girl, let go of any schemes you have in that foolish head."
"I don't have any schemes. I'm afraid I'll cry. The girls say he's ... he's ... he causes pain."
Jadin visibly relaxed. "Don't worry about that. Crying doesn't displease him at all. I don't think he feels finished until the girls cry."
Repentance trembled. "How long do I have to stay with him?"
"Until he's done with you."
Repentance went to her room and took out her parchment pad. She poured her hatred onto the page.
The warthogs steal and take and take and take.
I hate them when I sleep and I hate them when I wake.
They threaten and snarl and bare their teeth,
but one day, I'll be above, and they'll be beneath.
Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow I might run away.
She read her poem back. Not her best work and she had no time to rework the lines. But it had served its purpose. The hatred kept her from crying. If she cried her nose would swell and turn red, and the prince would think she was ugly. She had to please him, or Comfort would pay the price.
Thinking of Comfort, she tore the parchment out of
