A Little Slave Girl, Lucky 97 [top romance novels TXT] 📗

asked, my breath suddenly catching in my throat. He nodded slowly, a smile to mirror my own on his handsome features.

These last days had been the best of my life.

Since that morning following Luke's outburst, Luke had stayed in his room all day, I sent to tell everyone he was sick. It was fun, seeing his face every second of the day, and we both enjoyed the chance to be with each other. Talk with each other.

We had talked about our pasts, I spilling the story about my parents in the Hundred Year's War, he talking about his dead mother. We found out even more about each other than before, growing closer in the process.

But this? This was amazing.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, practically jumping on his, my lips racing to meet his. It was a beautiful feeling, kissing Prince Lucas, and I just couldn't get enough of it. His lips were just so incredibly soft, like a dream, his perfect face's closeness sending tingles throughout my entire body.

He laughed, his hands around my waist. "You're very welcome," he replied genially.

We just stood in that position, his hand around my waist, I leaning against him, reveling in his sweet warmth.

"I guess I can't say no to going to the Yen Ball, then," I said quietly, though my heart ached inside. I knew it meant a lot to Luke, me being there, in fact, that was the only reason I was going to go, but I didn't want the nobles gossiping about me. The kings disapproving of me, both of them narrowing their eyes at my tanned skin, my skinny figure, my huge eyes, and my long, straight hair. Not to mention I was a slave.

Luke smiled sweetly. "I'll make sure you have a wonderful time, Evangeline," he said my name as if it was sweet syrup, making me tingle with delight.

I imagined me, entering the room filled with nobles and the royal family, them staring at my disheveled appearance, laughing at me, laughing at Prince Lucas for bringing me. I didn't want that to happen to Luke.

I was going to do all I could to make myself beautiful, and make them sigh with absolute awe.


The days leading until the Yen Ball passed quickly, Prince Lucas having to make up for his "sick time" by arguing with King Henry VI for even longer hours than before, stretching from nine o' clock to nine at night. I missed him, my yearning for his beautiful eyes to meet mine growing ever larger in each passing minute. When he did return, we sat on his bed, talking about miscellaneous things, like our hopes and dreams, our worst fears, and our heartaches.

Luke would always be tired, however, and fall asleep quickly, his snores reverberating around the room, I laughing at the way he slept like a log, not even a kiss from me waking him up. Then, I would go to my room and sleep, dreaming of Luke's sugar coated kisses, his lovely velvety voice echoing in my mind.

Luke was just as anxious as me about the Yen Ball.

"What am I going to say to dad?" he asked me one day, overwrought.

I frowned. He couldn't say he had a slave on his arm, for then he would probably get King John to throw me into the dungeon. He also couldn't pretend I was a noble, for everyone would obviously know that was a lie. Then, I got it.

"Don't tell them," the words flew out of my mouth, words I couldn't take back. He looked at me, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't tell them I am a slave," I said urgently. I needed to get my idea out as quickly as possible, or else I would try to shove it back down my throat. "Don't tell them anything. Let me be a stranger to them."

"That won't work for long," he commented slowly, his eyes alight, thinking hard.

"It will work for long enough," I said softly, "long enough to get us through the day."

He looked at me sadly. "You're right. We'll have to tell them the truth very soon."

"And you have to release me before you tell them," I warned, my voice edgy.

He smiled that beautiful smile of his, "Of course."

I stared at him with suspicion. He told me two days ago that he was going to release me, yet the day hadn't come. Luke told me it was because he didn't want me to lose my room next to him and be thrown out of the castle like a commoner, and that was definitely not a good thing, but I still yearned for freedom, like an ache in my chest.

He kissed my nose softly. "You know I love you," he whispered.

Obviously he had seen my dubious look.

"Yes," I agreed, swept away by the scent of his intoxicating aroma, his feather-light kisses, his energizing touch.


The day had finally come. The Yen Ball had arrived.

The nobles were prancing around, all having arrived from their castles, and even Princess Marilyn was fussing about her looks, wanting to look stunning for their appearances at the ball.

I could hear her, even, from across the hall. "NO!" she would scream, "I WANT TO WEAR THAT DRESS WITH THE SPARKLES! NOT THE FEATHERED-ONE!" I laughed a little. Princess Marilyn would look beautiful no matter what she wore.

When I entered Luke's bedroom that morning, balancing a heavy tray of delicious delicacies, instead of Luke being there, there was that old lady that washed me in the washing room that day. Beside her, there was a small basket she could easily carry around, and several other trinkets.

"You," she said softly, "are Evangeline, correct?" I nodded slowly. "Prince Lucas told me to make you gorgeous."

"Where is he?" I asked, amazed that he would do such a thing for me.

"Negotiating," she said nonchalantly, "he said he would meet you at seven o' clock."

Seven o' clock was the time of the Yen Ball.

She quickly examined me, from my straight hair to her feet. "We can't make you look like the others," she commented, "So, we are just going to build on that. Evangeline, we are going to make you stand out, like a little exotic wildflower."

Luke called me a little exotic wildflower too. I felt a tingle in my heart that was strangely delightful.

"First," she said, "Pick from these dresses." She gestured to a long line of beautiful dresses that laid on his bed. I walked over to them, my eyes nearly popping out at the sight of such lovely silk, rubies, diamonds, and lace. They were all stunning, truly magnificent attire, that delighted me very much. I had always wanted to wear a beautiful dress. It was my dream from the very beginning.

One dress stood out to me. Long, slender, and simple, it was blood red, with a big skirt like the others, but a little bit skinnier. The neckline was not really low, but it was in a v shape, the arms of it ending at the end of the shoulders. With rubies adorning the bodice, and the simple skirt decorated with fine lace, I knew it was the one I wanted.

The woman helped me get it on, a scratchy and arduous task, but when it was, and the final sash was tightened, I was very delighted with the way it looked on me. It was different, sure, but it was enchantingly simple, temptingly sweet.

Without a word, the woman brought me to a mirror, sitting me down in front of it. "Dearie, close your eyes," she said, "I'm going to put something called makeup, a newly discovered product, on your face. Prince Lucas commanded it."

I obliged her, waiting as she applied these newfangled products I had never heard of before. I could feel a sticky brush stroke my eyelashes, powder puffing on my cheeks, some sort of weird material put on my lips. It took a while, the lady's concentration clearly evident, but as she finally drew away, her lip was pursed with satisfaction.

I was too. I couldn't believe how this... makeup made my eyelashes so long, my cheeks so rosy red, my lips so soft and delicious looking. I wondered if this was how Princess Marilyn made her face look so incredibly beautiful... it probably was. Some of my jealousy melted away at that comforting thought.

The old woman turned her attention to my hair. Picking up one strand, she let it fall back to it's straight position. "Dear," she said, "there is nothing I can do about your hair. You are just going to have to show them you have unbelievably straight hair, and be proud of it."

She took several ribbons and threaded it through my thick, voluminous hair, putting sparkles in it that made my hair shine. I started to really look like an exotic wildflower, my eyes huge, covered in that "kohl" makeup I now realized the Egyptians wore, my mouth plump and desirable, my dress slimming and beautiful.

I realized we had three minutes until seven o' clock, and I urged the lady to hurry. She wiped away carefully at a smear on my cheek, then stepped back, running her eyes over my face, my body. "You look very lovely, Evangeline," she said softly. Then, she looked away, and when she finally returned my gaze, I could see a tear on her cheek. "Maybe slaves are not so disgusting after all," she admitted.

"Thank you," I said softly, hugging her. For some reason, although slaves weren't allowed to touch people, I felt this would be okay.

Maybe this was the first step to freedom for slaves everywhere. Maybe... if the world saw how beautiful we could be, they wouldn't want to hurt us.

The door creaked open, and Lucas walked in, a handsome smile on his face. "You look gorgeous," he whispered as I grinned in return.

"I know," I laughed, "like a little exotic wildflower."

"Exactly," he confirmed. Then, he paused, and whispered, "My beautiful little slave girl."

His words didn't bite at me, only elating me even more. I had finally learned to accept who I was. And, somehow, when Luke said it, it didn't seem so bad.


The door creaked open, the crowd whispering among themselves. They were all wondering about Prince Lucas, I'm sure.

Princess Marilyn had just arrived at the ball, her beautiful, tightly winded hair bouncing down her back, her eyes huge and stunningly mesmerizing. She was wearing a sparkly dress with a huge skirt and tight bodice, heavy amounts of cleavage showing, and a figure heavily enhanced by a tight corset, I'm sure.

And she had come alone.

Obviously everyone had expected Lucas to come with Marilyn. After all, they were the perfect match. The ideal pair. The dream couple.

But instead of the pretty Marilyn, Lucas had me on his arm. Standing before the entrance to the ballroom, waiting our turn, we anxiously hugged each other. We didn't know what the nobles would think or do. The kings were in the crowd also, and if King Henry VI recognized me...

then it would all be over.

We were the last couple to enter, and my heart was shaking furiously in my chest. What if they don't like me? What if...?

I didn't know, really.

Luke nuzzled my chin quietly. "Everything will be alright," he