Anwyl bit the inside of her cheek as the cold stone pressed unyieldingly against her bare shins. She kept her head down and stayed silent. The man who had brought her here had disappeared the moment he'd dropped her off in this room of obsidian and marble.

"You're Anwyl?" The voice of the man on the teak wood throne boomed around the stone throne room.

Her gaze shot up to meet his.

He stood, his black cloak rippling in his wake as he descended the stairs.

When he arched a bushy brow, Anwyl realized he was waiting for an answer. "Yes, my Lord."

"Hmm... Did Tyl inform you why I brought you here?"

Anwyl shook her head, wrapping her arms around her torso. The man's black eyes stayed fixed on her, and she shivered. It felt like his eyes pierced through her flesh straight to her soul. Darkness oozed in the corners of the throne room and filtered toward them, making the eerie sensation stronger.

"I see. Well, if he hasn't, I suppose I shall have to. I need your help." He strode forward and knelt in front of her.

She flinched when his fingers brushed her bangs away from her face.

"Your town is special to me, Anwyl. So far, I've been unable to make any headway with the people there. I want you to help me with my mission."

"Your mission?" Anywl swallowed hard, closing her eyes when his cold fingers trailed over her cheek.

"Do you know who I am?" His breath fanned over her face, and she fought the urge to shrink away.

"No, my Lord."

"Then I suppose introductions are in order." He rose from his crouch and tugged her to her feet. "I am Prince Aamon of Lyshadia."

Anwyl's eyes widened, and she ducked her head. His fingers tightened on her upper arm when she tried to bow.

"None of that, now. You can't keep acting like the slave you are while you're working on this job."

So, when I'm finished with the job I'll be expected to go back to acting like a slave? She gulped. "Yes, master."

"How would you like to have your freedom, Anwyl?" He relinquished his hold on her arm.

"My freedom?" Anwyl's head jerked up, and her lips parted.

He smirked. "Yes, your freedom. Would you like to have that?"

Her gaze fixated on him, and she couldn't seem to move. After a long moment, she managed to squeak out a response. "Yes, master."

He tilted her chin up. "If you work hard, I can give you everything you want."

Everything I want? Anwyl's breath caught in her throat.

"Can I take it that's a yes?" Prince Aamon's dark gaze searched hers for a moment.

"Y-yes..." Her fingers trembled, and she finally tore her gaze away from him. "What would I be required to do for my freedom, master?"

He leaned closer to her, his words hissing in her ear. "Anything I tell you."

A shiver skittered down her spine.

"Would you be willing to sell yourself for your freedom?"

Anwyl hesitated. Sell myself for my freedom? How does that make sense? Wouldn't that just put me into more bondage?

"Well? It's simple, Anwyl. Do whatever you're told, and when you've done enough, you can have your freedom. I'll even help you with that dream to be a healer." He toyed with a strand of her hair. "It's not much to ask of you for something most slaves couldn't ever dream of gaining."

Her pulse sped up. Just do whatever he says, and I'll get what I've always wanted. But... She bit her lip. How does he know that's what I want? "How did—" Anwyl stopped, a wave of cold washing over her.

"How did I know?" Aamon chuckled. "I do my research, love."

Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I see. So, if I just do everything you ask for a time, I'll be free?"

He nodded. "Five years, Anwyl. Five years, and you'll win your freedom."

Five years was nothing compared to a lifetime of slavery. "Fine. I'll do it. What do you want of me?"

Aamon's lips curved into a wicked smile, and his eyes glinted. "Nothing much."

***

Seanan's hands stilled on the bandages he was wrapping around a child's broken ankle. She chose. He sighed and continued splinting the child's ankle. The little girl stifled a whimper, and he glanced up, casting her a reassuring smile.

"Healer?" The girl's voice was heavy with tears.

"Yes, Aelia?"

"Why do you look sad?"

Seanan finished binding up her ankle. "Someone I love very much just made a very poor choice." He patted her shoulder. "Don't worry yourself about it. Focus on staying off that ankle until it heals, alright?"

"Okay." Aelia fiddled with the edge of her tunic.

Seanan smiled down at her, setting his bag of gauze to the side. "And what did you learn from this experience, Aelia?"

Aelia bit her lip. "That doing foolish things hurts people who love you."

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Well, yes, but what else?"

Her blue eyes met his steady gaze and welled with tears. "Not to climb in dead trees," she mumbled.

"Exactly." He picked the six-year-old up and carried her to her waiting mother on the other side of the hall. One of his healers was explaining to the distraught mother how to use the ointment and the procedures to follow until Aelia's ankle healed.

"Mistress Kidar?" Seanan set Aelia down, letting the child support herself against his side so she wouldn't put her weight on her foot. "She's all set. It should heal well if you keep her off it."

Aelia's mother turned to them and scooped Aelia up in her arms. "Thank you, Healer Tapani. I'll make sure she stays off it and out of trouble."

Seanan's lips quirked upward in a smile. "I'm sure you will, and I doubt she'll do anything like this again."

Aelia buried her face in her mother's shoulder. Her mother cast him a weary glance as she turned to go. "I hope not. Kadek knows I can't afford it."

Seanan didn't reply, and the worn-out mother exited with her daughter. When they'd left, Seanan's shoulders slumped. He sunk into a nearby chair and massaged his temple.

"Is something wrong, Seanan?" The young man who had been explaining the correct procedures to Aelia's mother settled a hand on Seanan's shoulder.

He closed his eyes. "Nothing I wasn't expecting, Eikal."

Eikal withdrew his hand. "Nothing unexpected? Then..." He trailed off.

Seanan opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. With a heavy exhale, he forced himself back to his feet. "Just because I knew it would happen doesn't mean it doesn't sadden me, Eikal."

"Oh. I see." Eikal cleared his throat. "Can I help?"

Shaking his head, Seanan headed toward the next patient. "Unfortunately, there's nothing anyone else can do to help right now. But thank you for offering."

Eikal followed him toward the coughing man lying on the third bed against the Hall's broad windows. "Of course. Just let me know if you need anything." He continued past the coughing man to the burn victim in the next bed over.

"I will," Seanan promised his friend.