Page 92 of Downfall of a Princess

Salas couldn’t remain at the mercy of the slave owner who might eventually take him to the parts of the country where he risked being recognized. His situation was much worse than I ever knew. He’d been in mortal risk for years.

Many things made more sense now. How he avoided me at the beginning, trying to remain invisible despite being intrigued by my attention. How adamantly he refused all my offers of help.

Meeting new people while looking for a job as a free man carried a risk of exposure. As a slave, few paid attention to him, making his current occupation a better hiding place. But it was not good enough. If anyone recognized him, he’d be executed. On his own, he stood no chance to defend himself from the law. To protect him, I had to keep him close.

“The queen will never agree to freeing him again,” Gem pointed out.

“She won’t. But we don’t really need her permission. We’ll find the money.”

I had a generous allowance from the crown, and every piece of jewelry I owned could feed a man for months. But my expenses were carefully monitored. Selling royal jewelry wouldnot go unnoticed. A large withdrawal of funds would raise questions and might bring unwanted attention to Salas.

“Where will we find the money?” Gem demanded.

“I’ll give you as much as I can without attracting scrutiny or speculations. You will come up with the rest.”

“Me?” She almost choked on the word.

“Yes, Gem. You have an annual allowance from your family. In addition, the crown pays you handsomely for all the work you do for us. I’m sure you can work out an arrangement to free a slave, and I will repay you in time. Unlike me, you can do all this far more discreetly.”

“Why the fuck would I free him?” she yelled.

“To keep him quiet about where your people brought him for three nights. To keep me quiet about it too.”

Her eyes opened wide with shock. “You wouldn’t dare, Ari. This is blackmail. One that won’t work. You can’t speak about it without exposing yourself along with me.”

“But was any of it my fault?” I said in an exaggeratedly sweet voice and batted my eyelashes at her. “I am just an innocent princess who did what her mother told her to do. The queen trusted you to make the arrangements. And you failed us both, putting my life in danger.”

Gem glared at me, her stare burrowing through me like a spear.

“Sometimes, I really wish you stopped being a princess just long enough for me to slap you,” she gritted through her teeth. “What do you want me to do with him after I free him? Hide him somewhere? You know he won’t be able to support himself. The moment we free him, he’ll sign another contract and end up where he started.” She moaned as if being tortured. “He really should just go back to a fun house where he belongs. With any luck, he’d get killed in a brawl or something.”

Salas had made it clear he preferred the back-breaking labor of a slave to the work in a fun house. He’d been risking his life daily to stay away from his former occupation. Forcing him back would be a huge betrayal of his trust.

But I needed to keep him in Egami. I had to watch over him from now on.

“I want him to stay in the city.”

Gem blew out a laugh. “Are you going to rent him a place? Because sooner or later, someone will discover who pays for his accommodation. And no,” she stomped her foot, “I’m not financing that shit for you indefinitely.”

“No. Salas will never agree to being a kept man.”

As kind and agreeable as Salas was with me, he had a stubborn streak. Unshakable pride was at his core, the inner dignity that no punches of fate had managed to crack or weaken. He wouldn’t accept handouts. I’d learned that already.

“Well, then he has more sense than you do.” Gem walked away from me and propped her butt on the desk behind her.

“He needs a chance to make his own living,” I said.

“And how do you propose he’d do it, other than taking his pants off for everyone who pays?”

I let that insult slide, holding on to the idea that churned and evolved inside my brain.

“Here is what I want you to do, Gem.” I headed toward her. “I want you to talk to the games master. You’ll tell her that you want to put a word in for a new gladiator you’ve found.”

“I... what?” she squeaked, making a move to jump up from the desk, but I pressed down on her shoulders, keeping her butt on the edge.

In my desperation to save Salas, my thoughts on this might be flawed. But Mother’s gladiators were well taken care of. They got paid well, ate good food, had free access to the queendom’s best healing witches if needed. They lived in theirown apartments in the gladiators’ quarters, away from the city crowds. At Salas’s age, he wouldn’t perform in the arena for long. In a few years, he’d have a full pension from the crown that would allow him to live the rest of his life in dignity and peace.

Also, he’d be right here, in Egami, a short carriage ride away from the palace.

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