All I Need ✔️

Chapter 11

Third Person POV

"Yes sir," Emalina said, popping out of the bathroom.

"I thought I said to stay in the room?" Prince Cassius stated angrily.

"Yes sir, but . . . ."

"It's my fault," Safania said in Eirlin, emerging from the bathroom in her wheelchair. "I wanted to be fixed up by the time you came back."

Prince Cassius looked at the woman in a pale green gown. It was clearly Emalina's - it fell loosely around Safania's thin frame - but she still managed to look stunning. Her long hair was neatly pulled into a single, thick braid that had been tied into a bun.

"You look very nice," the prince said simply. "but those clothes are not fit for a royal guest. Emalina?" he asked, switching to Ledish. "Can you please ask the tailors about getting some clothes for Safania?"

"Of course your highness," she said politely. "I also made you this." Emalina passed him a page with scribbled notes. "I thought if you wanted some ideas on things to do, it might help."

"Thank you Emalina," the prince replied.

"Am I still in trouble?" she asked.

"No," he answered simply. "You are excused."

Emalina curtsied, gave a quick glance to Safania, and walked out of the room.

"We're finally alone," the prince said, taking a seat near Safania. Safania did not respond other than a small nod. "Do I make you nervous?" Prince Cassius asked her.

Safania looked into his eyes. He terrified her. But she didn't plan on telling him that. "No, your highness" she answered.

The prince surveyed her intently with his piercing blue eyes, and Safania felt a chill run through her body. "There's no need to be nervous," he responded, picking up on her obvious lie. "I'm not going to hurt you. You remember what I said before the procedure?"

She nodded. "Now I have to answer all your questions."

Cassius leaned back in his chair. "Who are you?"

"I'm a runaway slave from Irado," Safania said, bowing her head. Being a slave was about as low as you could get in the social hierarchy, and being a runaway slave was even worse. Maybe this would make him lose interest.

"Where in Irado?" he asked, seemingly unfazed by her response.

"Tonijia," she replied, with her head still down.

The Prince whistled. "Tonijia? That's about as far away from here as you can get. How long have you been running?"

"Five years," she replied.

Five years? Now that was unusual, Cassius thought. Slaves were usually recaptured within 24 hours of their escape. Any that made it longer than that were usually recaptured by other traders within a week. Five years was unheard of.

"Your master never came looking for you?"

"My master . . . " Safania began, and then apparently changed her mind. "I don't think he came looking for me your highness."

"Why not?"

Safania paused, then said, "I just never heard he was looking for me." It technically wasn't a lie. Prince Cassius could tell there was more to the story, but decided to let it go for now.

"How did you survive on your own for five years?"

"I just did what I had to do," Safania answered. "I was able to snatch books on survival, language, history and geography of the kingdoms. I read everything I could, and that helped a lot. I was also able to convince merchants to show me local herbs and plants that I could eat, and I made my own fishing poles, traps, and some tools."

"Where did you stay?" the prince asked, leaning forward, clearly intrigued.

"Here and there," Safania replied. "I stayed in abandoned buildings, cellars. A lot of times I would travel at night and women at the brothels along the way would let me use their beds during the mornings. In exchange I would help them with chores and such."

"And you were safe? No one bothered you?"

Safania smiled. "Of course people bothered me. That was usually my cue to leave."

Prince Cassius frowned slightly. "What I mean is . . . I just can't imagine a woman looking like you walking around with no men accosting you."

Safania's smile faded slightly. "That didn't bother me."

"They never came after you?"

Safania paused, still not looking at the prince, then shook her head.

The prince looked at her doubtfully but decided to move on. "So you made it five years and then somehow ended up near death by a riverbank?" he asked.

"I was captured by some slave traders. I managed to escape but they had taken all my tools, my supplies, really everything I had except the clothes on my back. I was already exhausted from the escape, and then I found myself in the middle of nowhere with nothing to help me. I wasn't familiar with the plant life here so I didn't know what was safe to eat. I had very limited ways to build shelter without my knife or rope. I had no idea how far I was away from civilization, so I just started walking. I made it two days before exposure got me."

"You could have died," the prince said, still not revealing any emotion.

"I probably should have died," Safania admitted. "Something must be keeping me alive. Fate, God, I don't know. But when I closed my eyes by the river, I thought it was over."

The two sat in silence for a moment. Then the prince finally spoke.

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

"Regret what?"

"Fleeing the slave traders. Obviously you don't get to pick your master, but you would have at least had a house. And food."

"I don't regret fleeing. Not for a second."

"Is it so much better to be free than to be taken care of?" the Prince said, no longer talking about Safania's decision to flee the traders but rather trying to assess whether he could trust her to not run off again.

"Of course it is," Safania replied instantly, not realizing the Prince's intention in asking the question. "When something is not free, the bill always comes due. And you don't have a say in how your debt is paid."

"But what if you trusted the person providing for you?" the Prince asked.

Safania began to say that she could never trust someone with that power over her, but stopped, finally realizing the implications of what she was saying. If she answered truthfully, the Prince would never be able to trust her alone. And if that were true, she would never be able to escape.

"Then it would be different. But these traders were not the type of people you could trust."

"You could have trusted them to keep you alive though. A dead slave is worth nothing," Cassius replied.

"You don't understand," Safania said, trying to calm the anger rising inside her.

"I understand that you almost died. Twice. You care so much about the manner in which you live your life, but not about living?" the prince asked emphatically.

"I'm not suicidal," Safania replied through gritted teeth.

The Prince raised his eyebrows. "Your callous disregard for your own life would suggest otherwise."

"You have no idea what it is like to be a slave," Safania said angrily, turning to face him. "There are some things worse than death your highness. Things people like you don't have to think about," she spat.

Cassius looked at her, seemingly perplexed. "Your eyes . . . " he said, trailing off confused.