The Tattooed Princess

Benefits to Healing Hands

        When Zaria rushed into Branka's room that morning, hearing of Svetlana's attack, she was already in tears. Her beautiful childhood friend lay on the bed pale and motionless. Branka was still at Svetlana's side since the late night, keeping the tourniquet which Murka had given her firmly in place over her knife wound to stave off any further bleeding.

            "She is in a deep sleep, Zaria," Branka told her, obviously still shaken herself from the night's violent ordeal. "But she breathes steady . . . and is not as cold to the touch now. I see improvement."

            Zaria placed her hand affectionately on Svetlana's unresponsive head. "I will make sure she never goes back to Murka's home. Sharvur grants me what I desire these days and I will see to this. I will not let this happen to any of us again."

            At that moment, Sharvur strolled into the room closely attended by Krido, his aged counselor. Both men were dressed regally, Sharvur in a dark green silken suit and Krido in his customary black and dark blue garb. Zaria herself was even more exquisite, looking the role of princess. This garment was finely knit, the color of the spring grasses, and with scores of tiny bronze crafted deer in repose fastened to it. For she had, of late, been drawing upon the craftsmen of the palace for her clothing and jewelry.

           Sharvur spoke loudly and insensitively to Svetlana's condition. "Murka tells me, it was his mate, Dressa. She could not tolerate his satisfaction with Svetlana. He asks now for her condition and assurance that she will recover."

            Zaria looked at him and Krido spitefully.

            "She will remain here, with Branka and myself," Zaria responded,  casting her gaze now upon the ailing and still unconscious fellow slave. "Svetlana is not to return to that house!. Not ever! Even when she recovers!"

            Krido stepped up close to her. "You make many demands now, Zaria," he interjected softly. He too showed no particular interest in Svetlana's condition.

            "Yes. And I could say I have many demands put upon me," she answered back insolently.       

            Sharvur simply raised his hand to stop the potentially ugly discourse.

            "Very well," the king said. "Svetlana is to remain in Branka's care . . . here until she either lives or dies." Both Branka and Zaria looked up at him in immediate disgust at his cavalier comment.

           "Branka will be relieved of her nightly duties to me during this time. I understand that my cousin Moshtok is now almost entirely recovered of his battle injury under the care of  her healing hands."

            Branka did not look up at this grateful comment.

            "It seems this young slave is good for something else besides what she was intended for and has been providing to me." The king smiled and nodded to Krido, who still appeared angry at Zaria's earlier impertinent response to him.

            "If there is anything you need Branka to bring Svetlana back to her lovely condition, let Zaria know. I trust she will be checking in on you both. Correct, Zaria?"           

            The princess slave did not look up from the gentle sponging of Svetlana's cheeks and forehead, still being performed lovingly by Branka.

            Krido, in his typical style left the room early in disgust, leaving Sharvur, his guard and the two girls standing over Svetlana in the dim light of the small chamber. With Krido now gone the king motioned to Zaria to come with him outside the room for some reason.