The price of comfort

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 A Delicate Balance

Della was awoken by a sharp knock on the door. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the luxurious room. She blinked, momentarily disoriented by the opulence surrounding her. A guard entered, his expression stern and unreadable. "Get ready," he instructed. "You have a meeting with the King."

Heart pounding, Della nodded and headed to the bathroom. This time, the guard allowed her privacy, a small mercy in the midst of her fear. As she changed into a clean outfit from the closet, her mind raced with questions. What did this meeting mean? Was her fate about to be decided?

The bathroom was a stark contrast to the grimy facilities in the camp. The plush towels and spotless fixtures felt surreal. She dressed quickly in the provided clothes—a simple yet elegant dress that felt out of place in her current reality. She stared at her reflection, trying to compose herself, but the anxiety was evident in her eyes.

The guard escorted her through the building and into a vehicle. They drove to a different section of the property, and Della felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. The lush gardens and manicured lawns outside the window seemed worlds away from the harsh camp conditions. Finally, they arrived at a grand room where King Nikolai awaited her.

"Della, please, sit," he said, gesturing to a chair opposite his.

She sat down, her body tense. "Good morning, Your Majesty," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Good morning," he replied, his gaze intense. The room was richly decorated, with ornate furniture and tapestries adorning the walls. The contrast between this and the barracks was almost overwhelming. "Tell me about yourself, Della."

She took a deep breath. "I'm from a small town in Vasara. I just graduated college a month ago with a Bachelor's degree in Architecture. This trip was supposed to be a celebration before starting my career."

The King nodded thoughtfully. "Architecture, you say? What do you think of the buildings you’ve seen so far in Reblen?"

Della's eyes lit up slightly as she remembered. "There was a beautiful cathedral we drove past on the train. It took my breath away. The design was intricate, and the structure was magnificent. It’s one of the most beautiful buildings I've ever seen."

King Nikolai listened intently, his expression unreadable. Della noticed he was probably close to 40 years old, with salt and pepper hair that gave him an air of distinguished authority. She wondered what he could possibly want with a 22-year-old girl.

He interrupted her thoughts. "I have needs," he said bluntly. "It's been a while since they’ve been taken care of. I am interested in you, Della."

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Your Majesty, I'm flattered, but I don’t feel comfortable sleeping with you. I hardly know you."

The King’s expression darkened slightly. "Then perhaps you would prefer to return to the camps?"

Panic surged through her. "No, please," she stammered. "I... I don't know you well enough to sleep with you yet. I'm scared. I don’t want to be shot or harmed. Please, understand my situation."

King Nikolai studied her for a moment before nodding. "Very well. We will spend more time together. Today, I plan to walk through the camps. You will join me."

Della agreed, her heart still racing. They walked through the camps, the King leading the way with his entourage of guards. The air was heavy with tension, and Della’s senses were on high alert. The juxtaposition of her surroundings—luxurious, manicured gardens outside the camp and the stark, oppressive atmosphere within—was disorienting.

They entered a section that housed only men, and Della felt their eyes on her immediately. It was clear she was the first woman they had seen in months. The men were dirty, their faces etched with despair and longing.

Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of gunshots. A dozen men who had been ogling her lay dead on the ground, the rest quickly averting their eyes. Della gasped, her heart pounding in her chest.

King Nikolai raised his voice. "You are not to look at a woman as if she is just a piece of meat. Have some respect."

Della was terrified, unsure if the King’s actions were out of jealousy or a twisted form of respect for her. She glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but his face was impassive.

As they continued their walk, the tension in the air was palpable. Della stayed close to the King, her mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion. She had to survive, had to protect herself and somehow find a way out of this nightmare. For now, she would play the part, hoping that her compliance would buy her time and perhaps, a chance at freedom.

"How long have you been in Reblen?" King Nikolai asked, breaking the silence.

"Almost two weeks," Della replied, her voice shaky. "It feels like much longer."

"And your impressions of my country so far?"

Della hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "It's beautiful, but I haven’t seen much beyond the camp and the train ride."

The King nodded. "I see. You are still young, Della. There is much you can learn and experience here."

She forced a polite smile. "I appreciate that, Your Majesty."

As they walked, Della’s thoughts drifted to Evie and their other friends. She wondered if they were safe, if they were at the embassy trying to secure their release. The uncertainty gnawed at her, making it hard to focus on the conversation.

King Nikolai led her to a secluded area within the camp, away from prying eyes. "This is where we keep the most dangerous prisoners," he explained. "Men who have committed serious crimes against the state."

Della shuddered, her fear intensifying. "Why are you showing me this?"

"I want you to understand the importance of discipline and respect," he replied. "These men are a reminder of what happens when order is not maintained."

She nodded, feeling a cold sweat on her brow. "I understand, Your Majesty."

They continued their tour, the King pointing out various sections of the camp and explaining their purposes. Della listened, but her mind was elsewhere, filled with thoughts of escape and survival.

As they walked back towards the main building, the King turned to her. "Tell me more about your studies. What inspired you to pursue architecture?"

Della was momentarily taken aback by the sudden shift in topic. "I've always been fascinated by buildings and design," she said. "I love the idea of creating something beautiful and functional, something that can stand the test of time."

The King seemed genuinely interested. "And what do you think of the architecture here in Reblen?"

"It’s impressive," Della admitted. "The cathedral I mentioned earlier was breathtaking. The details, the craftsmanship—it was incredible."

King Nikolai nodded thoughtfully. "I’m glad to hear that. We take great pride in our architecture. Perhaps, if you prove yourself trustworthy, you can contribute to our designs in the future."

Della forced another smile, unsure how to respond. The idea of staying in Reblen and working on their buildings was both intriguing and terrifying.

As they reached the entrance to the main building, the King turned to her again. "You have shown respect today, Della. Continue to do so, and you will find that your time here can be more pleasant."

She nodded, her heart still pounding. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

He gestured for the guards to take her back to her room. "We will talk more later. For now, rest and reflect on what you have seen."

The guards led her back to the vehicle, and they drove to the tall building where she had spent the previous night. Della noticed there were fewer guards than before, a small comfort in her uncertain situation.

As she entered her apartment, the familiar sight of the plush carpet and elegant furniture greeted her. It was a stark reminder of the strange balance she had to maintain—survival in a gilded cage.

She walked to the small kitchen and opened the fridge, feeling a pang of hunger. She made herself another sandwich, the taste a small comfort amidst her turmoil. She thought about the King’s words, about the promise of a more pleasant stay if she complied.

After finishing her meal, Della explored the apartment further. She found a closet full of clothes in her size, each piece more beautiful than the last. She ran her fingers over the fabrics, feeling a mix of gratitude and unease. What did the King truly want from her?

She walked to the bathroom, needing to wash away the day’s fear and confusion. The warm water soothed her, but the memory of the men’s bodies lying lifeless on the ground haunted her. She had come so close to death, and the realization made her shiver.

As she dried off with the plush towels, she wondered when the King had seen her and decided to pick her. Was it during their initial capture? Had he been watching all along?

She dressed in a comfortable outfit from the closet and moved to the bedroom. The king-sized bed with its silk sheets and soft comforter was inviting, but sleep felt elusive. She lay down, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.

The King’s attention, the luxuries, the promise of a better stay—it all felt like a trap. But what choice did she have? She had to play along, to find a way to protect herself and Evie.

As she drifted into a fitful sleep, Della 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.