She stood at the front of his chambers, staring at the door, then hesitantly knocked.

“Come in,” came the curt reply. His deep voice reverberated through her.

She opened the door and walked in. The light illuminated the room. The chambers were bathed in gold. It was the most beautiful sight she had seen, but the situation wasn't exactly favoring Danika's sense of exploration and appreciation. She could only stare at the big man who occupied one side of the room. At thirty-five years old, she has never seen a man who looks more larger than life than King Lucien.

Watching him as he stuck a feather into the ink on the table, withdrew it, and continued scribbling down on the scroll before him, it was hard to believe that this man had ever been a slave.

But he was. For ten whole years he endured unspeakable tortures in the hands of her father. Now, he was paying it back.

The king raised his head finally and stared at Danika, holding the feather and watching her blatantly. All over her, his