“Has no love-wind ever blown my name to your sky-nest?” she asked. “Has your royal lover never named my name? For I, too, am one of the King’s darlings.”
Perpetua started at the mention of the King’s name, and looked around again at the gorgeous cage.
“The King! the King! Is this the King’s house?” she asked, with wider eyes and clinched fingers.
Lycabetta made her a mocking reverence.
“Every house in Sicily is the King’s house, and my poor roof is as loyal as the best. This is my house and yours, for now you dwell in it at the King’s pleasure.”
“Then I will leave it at my own pleasure, instantly.” She knew that she was snared, but she showed no sign of fear.
Lycabetta shook her head and smiled evilly.
“I think you will stay. Every door is guarded, every bolt driven home. My frightened bird, you cannot escape from this cage.”
She knew that the girl was at her mercy and began to find stealthy delight in the thought. Perpetua faced her boldly, holding her head high. Pagan and Christian faced each other with bright eyes.
“I do not fear you,” Perpetua said, calmly. “You dare not hold me here against my will. The King himself has no power over a free woman. If you restrain me, I will call for help, and every honest hand in Syracuse will be raised to set me free.”