The price of comfort

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A New Threat

The sun beat down mercilessly on Della and Evie as they toiled in the fields, their hands raw and blistered from harvesting corn. The endless rows seemed to stretch on forever, the monotonous work offering little distraction from their dire situation. The camp guards patrolled the perimeter, their cold eyes ever watchful.

Della wiped sweat from her brow and glanced over at Evie. "How are you holding up?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing her down.

Evie managed a weak smile, her face pale and drawn. "As well as can be expected," she replied, though her eyes betrayed her exhaustion and fear. "I just want to go home, Della. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Before Della could respond, the calm of the field was shattered. Two guards, rugged and stoic, approached with grim determination, their expressions void of any emotion. Della felt a chill run down her spine as they drew nearer, their intent clear and terrifying.

"You," one of the guards barked, pointing at Della. "Come with us."

Panic surged through her. "Why? What did I do?" she stammered, taking a step back in fear.

Without warning, the guards grabbed her arms, their grips like iron. Della screamed, struggling against them. "No! Let me go!" she cried, her voice echoing across the field.

Evie dropped her basket of corn and rushed to Della's side. "Please, don't take her!" she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "She hasn't done anything wrong! We just want to go home!"

One of the guards turned and aimed his gun at Evie, the barrel steady and menacing. "Step back, or I'll shoot," he warned, his voice cold and final.

"Please, don't shoot!" Della begged, her heart racing with terror. "I'll go with you, just don't hurt her!"

The guard hesitated for a moment, then lowered his weapon. Della's heart pounded as they dragged her away, her mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. Evie's sobs faded into the distance, leaving Della with nothing but the harsh grip of the guards and the uncertainty of what awaited her.

They brought her to a building she hadn't seen before. Inside, it was surprisingly clean and well-maintained compared to the barracks. The guard in a more decorated uniform stood waiting, his presence commanding respect and fear.

"Strip," he ordered, his voice devoid of warmth. "Shower and put on the dress."

Della looked at him, her eyes wide with terror. "Why? Who wants to see me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Do as you're told," the guard snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

With shaking hands, Della stripped off her dirty clothes and stepped into the shower. The warm water cascaded over her, washing away the grime but doing little to soothe her frayed nerves. She cried quietly, the sound of her sobs mingling with the water, each drop feeling like a tear of despair.

One of the guards stood watching her, his eyes never leaving her body. His gaze made her skin crawl, a reminder that even in this brief moment of cleanliness, she was not safe. The sense of violation was overwhelming, and she felt more exposed and vulnerable than ever before.

"Is this really necessary?" she pleaded, her voice shaking. "Please, just let me go home."

The guard's expression didn't change. "Hurry up," he said coldly. "You don't want to keep him waiting."

Finally, she finished washing and put on the clean dress that had been provided. The fabric was soft against her skin, a stark contrast to the rough clothes she had been wearing. But even the comfort of the dress couldn't ease her fear.

The decorated guard nodded in approval. "Follow me," he instructed, leading her down a corridor to another room.

The room she entered was lavishly furnished compared to the rest of the camp. A plush carpet covered the floor, and elegant furniture filled the space. It was a stark reminder of the world she had been torn from, a world of comfort and security that now seemed a distant memory.

"Wait here," the guard commanded before exiting, leaving Della alone with her thoughts.

She sank into a chair, her body trembling. She had no idea who wanted to see her or what their intentions were. The uncertainty gnawed at her, each minute stretching into an eternity. She clung to the hope that she would see Evie again, that they would somehow survive this ordeal together. Her thoughts drifted to the friends she had come with, wondering if they were at the embassy, desperately trying to secure their freedom.

As the door opened once more, a man of high importance entered. His presence commanded the room, and Della's heart skipped a beat as he introduced himself.

"I am King Nikolai," he said, his voice smooth and authoritative. "I often come to check on the prisoners in my camps."

Della's eyes widened in shock. "Why did you pick me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her body tense with fear.

King Nikolai studied her for a moment, his gaze piercing. "Something about you caught my eye," he replied. "There is a strength in you that intrigued me."

Della swallowed hard, trying to muster the courage to speak. "Your Majesty, I am here legally. My passport is at the hotel. If you check with the authorities, you'll see that I'm telling the truth. Please, I just want to go home."

The king's expression remained unreadable. "I will have my men look into it," he said, but his tone lacked sincerity, and Della sensed it was best not to question him further.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said, bowing her head respectfully, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

King Nikolai nodded, then continued. "Even though you are my prisoner, I wish to favor you. I can arrange for you to stay in a nicer barrack, where you will have more freedom during your stay."

Della's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What is expected of me in return?" she asked, her voice barely steady.

The king's smile was enigmatic. "I simply want your time," he said, though Della sensed there was more to his request. "You will have more freedom and comfort. It's a fair trade, wouldn't you agree?"

Della hesitated, her mind racing. She didn't trust him, but what choice did she have? "What about Evie? Can she come with me?" she asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

King Nikolai's expression hardened slightly. "We can discuss that later," he said dismissively. "For now, the guards will take you to your new quarters."

With a nod from the king, the decorated guard motioned for Della to follow him. They led her out of the building and into a vehicle. As they drove, Della noticed the scenery changing. They approached a tall building still within the camp's perimeter but with noticeably fewer guards.

As they entered, Della realized it felt more like an apartment building. The air was cleaner, the atmosphere less oppressive. The guards escorted her to a door and opened it, revealing a room that looked like a hotel room. It was clean and comfortable, a stark contrast to the squalor she had endured for the past week.

"You will be staying here," the guard said, his tone indifferent.

Della stepped inside, her body trembling with relief and fear. The room was a small slice of normalcy in an otherwise nightmarish reality, but the uncertainty of what was expected of her weighed heavily on her mind. She sank onto the bed, feeling the softness beneath her, and let out a shaky breath. For now, she was safe, but the future was still shrouded in dread.

Della stood in the middle of the luxurious apartment, her mind swirling with confusion and fear. The stark contrast between this comfortable space and the harsh conditions of the camp left her feeling disoriented. She couldn't stop thinking about Evie, about the friends she had come with, and whether they were safe. Her worry gnawed at her, but she didn't know if she could leave the apartment to find out.

As she walked through the apartment, she marveled at the unexpected opulence. In the small kitchen, she opened the refrigerator and was stunned to find it fully stocked with food—more than she had seen in the past week. Her stomach growled, reminding her of her hunger. She quickly made herself a sandwich, savoring the taste that felt like a feast after the meager rations in the camp. Each bite was a small comfort, grounding her in the present.

Continuing her exploration, she found a small bathroom that was immaculately clean. Plush towels hung neatly, and the sight of a proper shower brought tears to her eyes. She longed to wash away the grime and fear of the past days, to feel clean and whole again.

In the bedroom, she discovered a king-sized bed with silk sheets and a soft comforter that beckoned her. She ran her fingers over the luxurious fabric, feeling a sense of normalcy that had been absent for too long. A closet in the room revealed a variety of clothes, all in her size. The sight of clean, fitting clothes was almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the rough camp uniform she had been wearing.

The living room was equally impressive, with a cozy couch and a television. It was more than she had dared to hope for, far nicer than the apartment she had shared with her friends back home.

As she sank onto the couch, Della's mind raced with questions and fears. What did it mean to be the king's favored prisoner? Did he want her opinions on his country or the horrible conditions of the camp? Was there a chance he would help her get home?

Her thoughts drifted to her friends, especially Eden. Before the trip, Eden had panicked about all the possible things that could go wrong. She was always prepared for everything, from minor inconveniences to major crises. But nothing could have prepared them for this.

The image of the man who had been shot for trying to escape haunted her. Both she and Evie had come terrifyingly close to death. The brutality of the camp was a constant shadow, and Della couldn't shake the fear that something worse was yet to come.

"When did the king see me and decide to pick me?" she wondered aloud, her voice trembling in the empty room. The uncertainty gnawed at her, each minute stretching into an eternity. She clung to the hope that she would see Evie again, that they would somehow survive this ordeal together.

Determined to stay strong for herself and for Evie, Della decided to make the most of the moment. She headed to the bathroom, eager to wash away the dirt and fear. As the warm water cascaded over her, she felt a small measure of peace, a reminder that she was still human, still capable of feeling clean and whole.

After her shower, she dressed in the clothes provided, which were soft and comfortable. She returned to the kitchen and made another small meal, savoring the abundance of food. For now, she was safe, but the questions and fears lingered, whispering at the edges of her mind.

As night fell, Della crawled into the king-sized bed, pulling the comforter around her. The softness was almost overwhelming after the hard bunks of the camp. She closed her eyes, willing herself to find some rest, some reprieve from the nightmare that her life had become.

In the darkness, she clung to the hope that her friends were out there, fighting for her and Evie's freedom. She had to believe that somehow, they would find a way back to each other. For now, she would survive, one day at a time, navigating the strange new world of being the king's favored prisoner.