A Player for A Princess

Going to the back of the house, I find a little garden. It’s four rows wide, and I see tomato plants, okra, what looks like cabbage growing in it. Green sprouts over what must be carrots are beside the longer tops of onions. I’m impressed and a little discouraged. She’s growing her own food?

Between the outhouse, the lack of electricity, no glass for windows or even wood for doors, I’m concerned we really are cut off from everything. My only hope is Selena goes to school somewhere, which means she has a teacher, and a teacher will have contact with the outside world.

Walking through the brush, I look down at my hand, and I see Cal’s ring. My chest squeezes as I remember the twinkle in his eyes as I begged to keep it. He was right. A purplish-green line is on my finger just beneath the tin band. I hold it against my chest and wonder what he’s doing. Is he worried? Is he searching for me?

I try to imagine what he thought when I never returned to meet him. Wade took my picture holding that newspaper as some sort of “proof of life” image, but what kind of demands is he making?

No one knows about our engagement—I’m not even sure it’s official. Even if it were, Cal isn’t Rowan. I remember Reggie said if something happened to the crown prince, Cal would take his place. Does that make me valuable? I don’t know enough about the politics of their countries to answer this question. Although, if I’m not valuable…

The thought churns my stomach. It’s only a matter of time before they get rid of me. Looking around, I know I’ve got to find a way off this island.

The dirt path continues to the edge of the forest. A strange succulent that looks like a giant aloe vera plant is at the tree line. It’s as tall as I am, and makes me think of something out of the dinosaur era.

I’m away from the little camp, but I’m not any closer to signs of a town or civilization. The trees are thinner. I keep going a few more steps, and they part. I’ve found a deserted beach, but it isn’t sandy. It’s covered in stones the size of my palms.

Picking one of them up, I study the smooth surface. It’s large and gray, but others are red. Some are blue. Some are yellow and green. It’s actually a vivid assortment of colors. Massive rocks are up ahead, and I climb over one to find several smooth, gray boulders surround a clear pool of turquoise water. It’s like a hidden bath. This place is so beautiful—pristine and undisturbed. How is it possible no one’s found it?

It’s completely deserted as far as I can see in all directions, so I carefully untie the halter-top of my dress and slide the zipper down my side. I ditched my panties after the first night, so I’m totally nude when I lower my aching body into the cool water. One enormous boulder is in the center, and a little ring of soft white sand surrounds it. I sit on its flat surface and reach down for the sand to rub over my skin.

I don’t have soap, but the salt water is cleansing, and the sand scrubs away the feeling of dirt. Lifting handfuls of water, I clean the blood off my mouth and cheeks, and I lean back to clean my hair. For several long moments, I float on my back with my eyes closed. I feel like a castaway lost on a deserted island, and except for the small band of women back at the camp, it’s possible I am.

When I finally decide it’s time to head back, I sit on the rock a while, letting the sea breeze dry my skin. I feel refreshed and encouraged, and I wonder if Selena will be home when I get back. I’m finally dry, and I climb over the rocks and put on my dress.

It takes me a few minutes to find the path I followed to get here, but I’m headed back, noticing familiar landmarks as I make my way. The dinosaur plant is at the edge of the path. As I walk, I notice another large palm with brilliant pink flowers up ahead. I didn’t notice it before, and I consider picking some of the blooms for my friend back at the house.

I’m about to step into the forest to do it when the man from last night charges out of the brush screaming.

“ABO! ABO!” He grabs my forearm in a vise grip, and the bruises and blood on my friend’s face send me into a panic. I’m not sure I can take another beating just yet.

“ABO NO TA SALI ESAKI KAS!” He yells, black eyes flashing with rage.

Still holding my arm, he drags me behind him a few paces in the direction of the houses. He’s not very tall, but he’s strong, and he’s talking so fast… Well, I wouldn’t be able to understand him anyway. Still, the way he’s shouting in a foreign language makes my heart race.

“I don’t

understand!” I scream, and he gives my arm a violent, forward jerk that sends me scrambling to the path in front of him.

“ABO NO TA SALI ESAKI KAS!” He yells, storming toward me, black eyes blazing.

“Saying it louder doesn’t help me understand!” I scream back.

I’m on the ground, and my relaxing bath is ruined. I’m panicked and dirty, and I don’t know what he’s saying. Reaching down, he catches me under the arms and hauls me to my feet. Then he pushes me forward in the direction of the houses.

I stumble catching my balance, relieved when I see the small garden I explored on my way out. Once I know where I am, I pick up the pace and start to run to where I hope Selena is waiting.

Rounding the corner of the house, I charge through the curtain that serves as a door, and relief hits me so hard. My little friend is sitting at the table with a book in front of her. When she sees me, her green eyes go round.

“You’re alive!” she whispers, and my stomach drops.

The door behind me opens in a swirl, and the small dictator is in the house again, causing my friend and her daughter to fly screaming to the back corner, crouching on the floor between their cots.

“ABO NO TA SALI ESAKI KAS!” He says, looking at them but pointing at me. “Bisa su! BISA!”

Their panic causes me to panic, and now I’m standing with the small table between him and me. I look from him to my friends and back again quickly.

“INGLES!” he says, and finally Selena speaks.

“He says you’re not to leave the house.” Her voice is so small, I want to run and stand in front of her and her poor battered mother.