Page 13 of Downfall of a Princess

She glanced at me over the rim of her coffee cup before setting it down. “Technically, we don’t hire them, dearest. Their work is contracted through their owner. We deal with her.”

“What difference does it make? Either way, the crown is using slave labor—the work of men and women who are owned by another person.”

She folded her hands on the table in front of her.

“Well, first of all, slaves are usually almost exclusively men. There are no women in the group we hired. Women tend to manage their finances in ways that don’t involve signing off their freedom in exchange for money. If they do end up in debt, they usually work out a repayment arrangement other than slavery. Sadly, men are far more reckless and more emotional by nature, which often lands them in debt beyond their control.” She took the cup again but didn’t raise it to drink, holding it over the table. “Second, slaves are owned by another person only because they carelessly allowed for it to happen. You know that no one is born into slavery in Rorrim, and everyone can work their way out of it if they apply themselves. You see, Ari,” she took a deep breath, “sometimes people fall on hard times. By providing them with employment, we actually help them repay their debt to the owner, regain their freedom, and return to society debt-free.”

“They get flogged while they’re at it,” I muttered under my breath, staring at the muffin that I no longer had any appetite to eat.

“Oh, I see.” Mother nodded. “That’s what it’s all about? I heard a punishment was delivered yesterday. I’m sorry you got to witness it.”

“I’m sorry it happened at all.”

“Ari, darling, some things are necessary to happen. You’ve been learning what it means to run a country, and punishment is a sad but necessary part of it.” She glanced down the table at Father, who quietly ate his breakfast. “Trebor dear, I don’t want to bore you with state matters. Why don’t you go see to the horses? Didn’t you say a mare needed attention for her hoof or something? Surely, you need to discuss it with her groomers.”

“Yes, of course.” Father dabbed his mouth with a napkin before getting up. “I’ll see you at lunch, Your Majesty.” He gave Mother a quick kiss, then winked at me with a smile. “Enjoy your morning, sweetie.”

Mother followed him with her gaze, speaking only after the door had closed behind him.

“You shouldn’t bring up these topics in the king’s presence, Ari,” she reprimanded gently. “Men find conversations about state affairs either boring or unsettling, neither is good for their volatile disposition.”

Father was the sweetest and the least “volatile” person I knew, but I didn’t argue with her on that.

“The punishment was brutal...” my voice broke, and I swallowed hard. The images of the man’s mangled back and the blood soaking into the coarse fabric of his pants rose in my mind as vividly as when I first saw them.

“Oh, honey.” Mother reached along the table to cover my hand with hers. “I’m sorry it upset you. Being a just ruler is a constant strife for balance between kindness and ruthlessness. One can’t work without the other. Punishment is often necessary for justice to be served.”

I didn’t move my hand away. Like always, the warmth of her touch felt comforting, and I could never deny that comfort to myself.

“What did that man do to earn the punishment?” she asked. “I’m not familiar with the details of his case.”

“He started a fight.”

“Ah.” She sounded as if she’d expected it. “The flogging seems an appropriate verdict to correct his behavior. Sometimes violence is the most effective response to aggression. Sadly, that’s the only language some men understand. Men are violent by nature. Their physical strength can get out of their control, and it’s our job to help them correct that. They need to be reminded that no matter how physically strong they are, there is a power that will hold them accountable for their irresponsible actions.” She squeezed my hand gently. “Let’s just hope that the man learned his lesson and will control his temper better from now on.”

Usually, her logic, presented in a calm, even voice, made sense. However, not everything in this case fit neatly together.

The queen peered at me. “I got a report that you intervened in his punishment, Ari.”

News traveled fast in Egami. The punishment of a slave might not warrant the attention of the queen, but her daughter stopping it certainly did.

“I did, Mother. I’ve reviewed his case, and I’d like to appeal it in front of the Royal Council.”

Mother’s brow furrowed in a concerned expression.

“Do you believe an injustice has been done in his case?”

This wasn’t exactly a case of injustice. According to the court papers, the man’s name was Salas. He did start a fight with other slaves while working on repairing a road to the palace. The fight resulted in a broken arm of one of his opponents. By law, flogging was the appropriate punishment for his crime. But one thing bothered me.

Several passersby witnessed the other men taunting Salas relentlessly. He was clearly provoked into the attack. However, when standing in front of the judge, Salas never mentioned that fact. He’d made no attempt to argue his case or to defendhimself. He simply accepted the blame and the verdict as it was presented to him.

Was it enough to reopen his case and to put it on the council's already very busy agenda? At best, it would reduce the sentence by two lashes. I feared it’d sound too trivial to Mother. To the man being flogged, however, I believed that every lash was of importance.

“Some circumstances of this case caught my attention,” I said. “I believe they warrant a reduced sentence for this man.”

The queen patted my hand before letting go of it and leaning back in her chair. “Very well, I will support your request for an appeal.”

“You will?” I exhaled with relief. Her support meant a world to me both in the council room and beyond.

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