"Stand still, will you?" the seamstress asked Zena, taking out the measuring tape from the voluminous folds of her dress.
Her assistant stood carrying rolls of materials in her hand, ready for selection.
Zena stared at the ceiling in exasperation. She had been rudely woken up by the duo at the crack of dawn. She was sleepy after spending most of the night in Luke's chamber. He had taken her again and again, hardly letting her sleep. She was dead tired from the ordeal, her body craving the warmth of her own bed.
The seamstress put the measuring tape around her tiny waist and studied it critically.
"You're not increasing by any chance, are you?"
Confused, Zena looked at her questioningly.
"I mean, you're not with child, I hope?" the woman made it clear.
"Of course not," Zena exclaimed, shaken and agitated.
"Are you sure?" the woman persisted. "I don't want the line of the dress to spoil, you see."
Zena nodded, her heart pounding. Within a short time, they left, having taken her measurements and having selected a fabric, embroidered silk, brought straight from the Orient by a merchant.
As soon as they were out of her tiny room, she sank down on the narrow bed. What a devastating thought it was! The probability had never even entered her head. What if it came true one fine day? The likelihood did not bear thinking about.
Zena wiped the beads of sweat from her brow, then poured out some water and gulped it down. She noticed the fine tremor of her hand, as she placed the tumbler back on the board. Why had the thought never entered her head? She was an idiot, she decided. The way Luke expended his passion on her body every night, he could get her with child any day. What would she do then?
Zena wiped an angry tear from her eye. Whenever in the past she had thought of having children, she had always imagined herself as a loving wife. Not even in her wildest dream had she thought that she would be a mistress and any probable child a bastard, cursed to live a life of ignominy.
She was sure that Luke would hate any child born of her body, just as he hated her. When she clamped her lips at the height of bliss to stop herself from crying out, he screamed his hatred of her as waves of pleasure washed over him. There was no way he would accept her baby. It was imperative that she do something to prevent that eventuality.
Who would help her here in this palace? Nan? Yes, she would talk to the motherly woman and ask her advice. She was sure that Nan would show her the way.
Nan knocked on the door of the study. It was mid-morning and she was told that she would find Luke here, going through the preparations of the ball which were underway.
Luke's voice asked her to enter, and she did so with some trepidation. Though she had brought him up almost as her own son, and they had grown closer since Queen Sophia's death, she was wary of this new Luke. He was a bitter and ruthless man, who wasn't above taking out his cruelty on an innocent woman. He might well punish her for her temerity, but talk to him she would. Within this short time, she had grown quite fond of Zena. The girl had an innocence which was endearing. She was kind and well mannered, never saying anything mean against anyone in the palace, though the maids gossiped about her relentlessly.
Luke looked up from the sketches lying on his desk, depicting the seating and flower arrangements for the ball.
"What are you doing here, Nan?" he asked, his tone full of impatience.
"I brought you this excellent mulled wine which I prepared, son. Tell me how do you like it for the ball?"
Luke accepted the mug from Nan, then took a sip of the beverage.
"Um....that's quite good, Nan. I think we should serve it to our guests."
"Oh, thank you, dear. I'll tell the maids to help me make a jar full of it," Nan said, still lingering back when she should have left the study.
"Is there anything else?" Luke asked her, frowning.
"I...I....Zena came to see me yesterday."
Luke raised an eyebrow in question, his lips tightening in displeasure.
"Come to the point, Nan. I don't have all day."
Nan squared her shoulders, a look of determination on her wrinkled face.
"I saw the bruises on her body, Luke." There, she had said it.
"So?" Luke asked insolently.
"I never raised you to behave in such a manner with a woman," Nan complained.
"What is wrong in my behavior, Nan? I think I'm quite generous to the traitor's daughter. See, she is out of the dungeon and removed from the death row."
Nan snorted in contempt.
"You know very well what I'm talking about, son. She's dying a little everyday from what you're doing to her. I'm afraid, one day soon, she'll breakdown."
"I'm waiting for that day, Nan. Believe me, I'm waiting for it eagerly. I'll break her spirit, if it's the last thing I do."
"What did she ever do to you? I never imagined that I'll hear something like this from you."
"She's her father's daughter, isn't she and everyone knows that Martin is a traitor."
"No. we don't know for sure what really happened. It is the word of Wilfred and his ilk against Martin, who hasn't even got a chance to explain himself."
"Why did he run away if he wasn't a traitor?"
"Did he run, Luke, or was he forced to go into hiding to save his life? The Martin I knew was a man of principles and morals. Who knew that better than your own mother?"
"Nan!" Luke's fist banged on the desk, scattering the papers every which way. He shook with rage as he faced the old woman.
"How dare you bring my mother into it?" he asked in a tight voice, his fists clenched and his eyes sparking ire.
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The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)
ऐतिहासिक साहित्यZena's father is accused of betraying his country, Zorbia. Their estates are confiscated and he is on the run. Zena, too, is forced into hiding to save herself from the soldiers who are hunting for her. She decides to embark on a journey to clear he...
