No man was worth this.

She tightened her grip on the extremely heavy tray of vegetables that the head cow wanted on the cook’s prep table. There was no reason in it being piled so high…

Suddenly, she hit a really slick spot on the floor. Before she could catch her balance, her feet came out from under her.

No!

But the gods weren’t listening to her right now. Apparently they needed entertainment and lucky her, she was their chosen buffoon. The vegetables flew everywhere as she slammed down on the hard floor. Her elbow hit first, then her head bounced off the tile.

For a minute, the unexpected pain stunned her as stars dimmed her vision.

“Get up, you lazy, worthless whore.” The cook viciously kicked her in the ribs. “Clean this mess up. Now!”

Zarya clamped down tight on the desire to physically retaliate for that. The cook was a freewoman. She was a slave.

If Zarya attacked her…

She’s not worth your life.

Tell that to her base anger that didn’t want to listen to her brain. It wanted blood…

Rolling over, Zarya pushed herself up, then hissed as she realized she’d sprained her ankle in the fall. Yeah, that was just what she needed. Let’s make running from here as hard as possible on me, shall we?

“Crap,” she breathed, trying to put weight on it in spite of the pain. By the gods, she wasn’t going to give these cows the satisfaction of knowing she was hurt.

“What now?” The cook slapped her. “I’ve never seen anyone so worthless. No wonder the governor threw you to me.” She grabbed Zarya by the hair and started pulling her across the room.

“Let her go.” Those growled words came out in a deep staccato beat that emphasized the fury and unspoken threat beneath them.

The cook freed her instantly and bowed low. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Everyone in the kitchen immediately stopped what they were doing to follow suit.

Stunned, but refusing to bow down to anyone, Zarya straightened to see Darling just inside the kitchen doorway. From behind his gold mask, those merciless blue eyes cut her to the bone. It was obvious he wanted blood, too.

Her blood.

Without another word, he closed the distance between them with long, furious strides.

Zarya held her breath and tensed her entire body, waiting for him to attack her.

Instead, he swept her up in his arms and carried her from the room as if she weighed nothing at all. She couldn’t have been more shocked had he slapped her. At least that she’d expected.

This…

She couldn’t comprehend his kindness given the way he glared at her. He didn’t speak a single word as he carried her through the palace, back to his study where someone had cleaned up the mess from the night before. His desk looked as if it’d never been upturned.

Still silent, he set her down on his burgundy leather sofa and knelt in front of her.