Lucius brushed his blonde hair back from his face and pondered for a minute. A thought suddenly came to his mind, the idea that something suspicious should be closely observed. He looked at Freya and said, “I will bestow upon you the honour of being my servant.” He silently congratulated himself, as he had been thinking about how to replace his previous servant who had recently disappeared from his service.
Freya wasn’t sure that she had heard him correctly, and after a pause, she simply said, “Pardon?” Even though she was lacking in formal education, she was aware enough to know what a servant was.
“If I understand correctly,” she began, “His Majesty would have me do the same job for him that I am currently doing for Archer?” A million thoughts seemed to flash through her mind. They had met with an unfortunate headbutt, she had washed his back and essentially saved him. All she wanted was to be rewarded fairly for her deeds, and yet here he was, suggesting that she serve him and be put through all manner of horrible things as a way of showing his gratitude? The thought of it made her feel sick to her stomach.
She shivered as she considered his suggestion. Of course, she wanted to be rewarded with gold, but she also knew that something awful may happen if she remained and accepted his offer of serving him.
“Your Majesty, there really is nothing that I need. I acted as anyone would have done in that situation. You don’t need to make me your servant as a reward,” she told him.
Lucius quickly responded, “What on earth do you mean? You know that I am the Crown Prince of the Morciani Empire. Of course, I must do something for you to repay my debt.”
Freya stood frozen. She wondered why he was so insistent on making her his servant. Surely he could see that she didn’t want this. As a response, she quietly murmured, “Anyone would have acted as I did. Besides, I am already a servant to Archer.”
Her words made Lucius angry, yet he tried to conceal the rage stirring in his stomach. Why was this simple lady refusing the chance of a lifetime, to serve someone as noble as him? He wondered if she was attempting to trick him, to appear as if she were not interested in the wealth and power that such a position could give her. With a smile on his face, he threw down the dagger that he was holding onto the table and said, “Fine. You need more time to think about my offer. I am in no great rush for your answer.”
Freya’s heart sank as she realised that the reward that she wanted was becoming less likely. For her, it was out of the question that she could ever become his servant. She began to think of a way to extract herself from this situation, wanting only to return to Archer.
Stammering with embarrassment, she mumbled, “Th -Then, Your Majesty, I will take my leave. She took a step back and began to turn to face the door.
Lucius replied firmly, calling her by name, “Freya.” She turned back to face him and saw that his gaze was fixed firmly on her bare shoulder. Unsure of what to say, Freya simply replied, “Yes?”
He had noticed that his chemise, which Freya was still wearing, was too big for her and that it had completely exposed her shoulder. Feeling discomfort at the thought that people might see this, Lucius handed her his black cape while saying, “Put this on before you go.”
Freya stepped back, insisting, “No. I’m not cold, Your Majesty.” She looked at the garment and noticed a golden ornament attached to it. With a little more force, she repeated, “No. I’m really okay.”
Lucius seemed not to hear her protest though, and he approached her and put the cape over her shoulders before she could say anything else. He was so close to her now that she could notice, strangely, that his eyelashes were particularly long. Lucius’ tone became more forceful as he said, “Wear it like this today.”
Freya felt helpless as if she had no choice but to do as he asked. His eyes gave her the impression that he would punish her otherwise. With resignation, she said, “Yes,” as she considered how it was possible to torture someone in so many different ways, including by words alone. Her beautiful face had not been enough to protect her from an uncomfortable heart.
Once she was out, Freya felt as if something were possessing her. Her heart seemed ready to burst, so she pressed down on her chest and inhaled deeply. The fresh air was helping, and she soon began to regain some composure. She turned and saw the tent’s flag billowing, encouraged by the gentle wind, and yet the symbol of the eagle on the flag made her feel nauseous. Her hair felt strange after Lucius had brushed it, and she wondered why he had done that. The clothes that he had given her were so ill-fitting that she felt slightly ridiculous wearing them, especially with the golden string knotted around her neck that made her look like a gift bag.
Freya muttered to herself, “What a tedious waste of time that was, and no real reward either!”
She began collecting the laundry, aware that these clothes were not best suited to such a task, but she didn’t have time to get changed into something more appropriate. She entered the workplace, still muttering and complaining to herself. It was then that she saw Archer, just back from his training for the day. He looked at her quizzically and asked, “Freya, what are you wearing?”
Freya knew why he was asking her this, but she was so tired and drained that she lacked the energy to explain in detail. Instead, she sighed, “Please don’t Archer. It’s been a tough enough day already.
Archer moved closer and inspected her face. “No, I just didn’t recognize you because you are so clean.” Freya sat down on the floor, feeling even more tired because of the clothes she was in. Archer continued, “So tell me who owns these clothes? Actually, first, tell me about meeting His Majesty.”