Little Red's Riding

My Queen?

"Well, you certainly seemed to make a friend tonight." Dahlia's hand rested lightly on her brother's arm as he guided her up stairs towards their room. She glanced at him quickly and pretended not to know what he was talking about.

"Herr Garin Isenburg. You don't aim low, do you sister? He was sent here by the Kaiser to negotiate an alliance with the King."

"I'm not aiming at all brother." She murmured, refusing to meet his eyes as she concentrated on the steps before her.

"Of course not. You're still grieving." But a smile graced his lips for the first time since he'd traveled north and taken her hostage.

After their last waltz, Dahlia had made a point of dancing with another four men before retreating back to her seat at the table, and gazing around the room, watching the steady swirl of colorful skirts as the music rose and swelled and her brother twirled partner after partner around the floor. She refused several offers to return to the dance floor, claiming that her shoes, which were not her own, rather pinched and that she needed to save her feet in case that she had any need to walk at all on the long journey they were going to embark on the next day. It was not true, but it was an excuse that every man she spoke with readily believed, and she said it with such anguish that not one of them walked away with their pride injured from her refusal.

"I did dance with other men." She pointed out as they arrived at the door to their own room.

"That's true. But out of a total of eight songs you spent at least four with him before retreating back to the safety of your seat. That's practically spending half the night by his side. I'm surprised the two of you aren't engaged yet." Dahlia bit her tongue so hard she was surprised she didn't taste blood to keep from saying exactly what was on her mind.

Instead she forced a laugh that was without mirth and headed towards her own room.

"He approached me after I danced with Lisette." Dahlia froze with her hand on the doorknob to her bedroom. When she didn't turn or move forward, he continued talking.

"He's going to purchase those two little slaves. For twice what my men would have gotten for them at the slave market in the Capital. It's foolish really. I assume they're a gift." She turned her face to the side and her lips parted for a moment and then closed. She was at a loss for words. She'd expected him to steal them away in the dead of night. Not buy the girls.

But it didn't matter. As long as they were returned home to their parents and pack. That was what mattered. And perhaps doing it this way would raise less suspicions with Deckard. If the girls went missing after she danced four dances with the same man maybe he would have questions. She had hoped he would assume it was someone on the outside, but this way she would be above reproach.

"Is he?" Dahlia turned towards him with a frown, lifting the edges of her skirt. "I don't like it. You know what I think of this entire thing. They're children. They should be home with their parents."

"If you decide to marry this particularly wealthy foreign diplomat, who happens to be a very wealthy Lord from what I've heard, they'll be your slaves and you can do whatever you want with them."

Taking a slow, calming breath, Dahlia nodded her head, forcing herself to stay calm. "Thank you for that, brother. I just hope that someday, sooner rather that later, you can understand that people can't own other people." She gritted her teeth together so hard that she was sure she'd have a headache in the morning.

"If only they were people. Now. Why don't you get some rest, Dahly. We have a very long day fast approaching and morning will be here before we know it. There should be night clothes folded on the bed. Get a good night's sleep and I will see you soon."