Breach

"Everyone out!"
I was pushed along by the crowd through the darkness. We were ushered out of the cramped, dank room like a flock of sheep. The little strap of my dress had fallen down my shoulder for the umpteenth time, and without my notice, my hand glided up to the strap, resting it back on my body properly. I'd been sitting in the dark for so long that I'd forgotten what color it was. I'd forgotten the color of my skin, my hair, and my eyes.
I'd forgotten what I looked like.
As I continued to be swept along in the sea of people, I noticed something bright. Then, a wave of blinding light shone down on all of us, and we tried our hardest not to cry out as the light burned our eyes. It'd been so long since I'd seen the light, that my eyes weren't able to adjust right away. I blindly stumbled through with the rest of the crowd until I was helped up by a pair of strong hands onto some kind of machine. I finally began to see in the light. I was outside of the holding room. I was inside some kind of room with little slots to see out of. The ground was covered in hay. I saw people around me smiling and crying, and realization hit me.
We were going to be free.
I saw people of dark skin, light skin, and every shade in between under a film of grime. People had black, brown, gold and white hair, all tangled and coated in dirt. Tears made everyone's eyes shine like gemstones, green, blue and amber eyes all dancing with joy. I began to smile, too, and soon the tears began to pour. After four years living in the holding room, I was no longer going to be a slave. The room began to move as the engine of some kind of vehicle roared. I was going to be freed by the Refragatio, and I was going to be my own person at last.
Four years ago, I was only fourteen. My mother had given birth to my sister and I in Castle Drauvnik, where the vampire lord there would repeatedly beat her and the other slaves. My father had apparently been whipped to death by the vampire himself shortly after I was born. My sister was born a year before me, so she was shipped to the holding room before I. The holding room was where slaves that were too young to truly be of use stayed until they finished growing, and then were auctioned off when they were eighteen. I joined her a year after she left, but she was auctioned off almost right away once she turned of age. I missed her and cried every day for nine months, until I finally had no feeling. I was lucky; the Refragatio came a week before the next auction, the start of the season.
I looked at my dress. It was a deep purple dress that barely covered my bottom and dipped far down my chest. The skirt was tattered and made of some kind of rough, puffy fabirc and the bodice was sequined with little jewels. My skin was covered in dirt, so I didn't know what its true color was. I could feel my bones poking out of my skin from lack of food, and some spots on me ached where a vampire guard had tossed me aside to grab another slave during auction season. I picked up a string of my hair. It was covered in dirt, but I could still make out the blue-black color. The color reminded me of the birds that were often outside of Castle Drauvnik, the blue-black birds that gathered into a crowd and cawed every morning until one of the slaves came with bread crumbs.
One slave saw me standing and came towards me, her tiny olive-skinned frame scuttling over, sending her long, light brown tresses bouncing around her face. Her dress was long and brown, a brown underbust corset showing her figure as it sat against her puffy white blouse. Whoever her last master had been didn't seem to care for the more revealing fashions. She didn't look very old and I didn't think she was any younger than fifteen until she spoke, her voice strong,
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, why?"
"You've just been standing here," she looked at her feet and then back up to me, amber eyes sparkling, "I'm Anastasia. Do you have a name?"
I shook my head, "I haven't been auctioned yet. I just turned eighteen last week." Slaves weren't named until they had their first master. I didn't care for a name, I held no value for myself after four years of sitting in the dark, tossed around and spat on.
"Well, you can have a name now! We're going to be free," Anastasia smiled at me, her eyes twinkling.
"I don't care for a name."
"Oh, don't say that!" she lightly took my hand, "You have to call yourself something!"
"I don't need to do anything," my voice came out a little harsher than I wanted, so I softened my tone, "I'm sorry..."
"No, it's fine" Anastasia waved a dirty hand, "Do you mind if I name you?"
"Go ahead" I shrugged. Whoever named me didn't make a difference.
"Hmm," she cocked her head in thought, "How about we call you Amelie...?"
"Amelie?" the corner of my lips twitched into a smile.
"Do you not like that name?" she frowned.
The name didn't really sound right to me. I shook my head and she thought again,
"How about... Esmerelda?"
I shook my head again, and she sighed,
"Violet?"
For the third time I shook my head and she huffed,
"I give up, I don't know!"
"Xyza."
Anastasia and I looked up at a dirty man with matted black hair and black eyes. He was staring at me, deep in thought, smiling to himself.
"What?" Anastasia blinked at him.
"I think the name 'Xyza' would suite her well."
I thought about the name for a moment, rolling it around in my head. I smiled and nodded. The man smiled back,
"Xyza it is."
Anastasia huffed, "I wanted to name her though..."
The man laughed, "Maybe next time. Hello," the man waved to me, "I'm Darel. I see you haven't even been auctioned once yet."
I nodded and he sighed,
"How lucky. Where we're going, you don't ever have to be afraid of someone. You can live and let live; so many would die for a chance like that. Many already have."
Anastasia and I sat by Darel. I listened to them talk about their previous masters, and how Anastasia was beaten when she wasn't fast enough with doing the chores. Darel told us about his mistress, one who would have fun preying on each of her slaves like it was a game. I saw the puncture marks in his neck, and he told us how he'd been his mistress' favorite when she played her game.
We continued to move for some time as we talked until we suddenly jerked to a stop. Everyone sat still, wondering why we stopped. I sat there with Anastasia and Darel, who both began to shrink down like everyone else. They were all afraid. I wasn't. I didn't care. I got up and walked towards the exit of the moving compartment and reached for the door. Anastasia and Darel were hissing for me to get back and stay down, but I reached further until I heard a noise outside. The sounds of liquids splattering on the ground and running steps made me pull my hand back and step away, but it was too late.
The door was thrown open, and there stood a man dressed in all black, with blue-black hair shining in a loose ponytail and red eyes burning into mine. His skin was pale like marble, his jaw strong and set. Within seconds, he'd opened his mouth and bared his fangs. I panicked and threw my hands out at him, and he hissed and fell back as if something had shot out of my hands. He jumped back up and grabbed my neck, throwing me out of the compartment. I landed on the ground and rolled through the dirt, cold liquid covering me. When I looked, I saw a sticky black liquid all over my arms, and noticed the bodies surrounding me.
Bodies of the Refragatio members.
I was grabbed by the hair and pulled up by someone else, and I heard the sounds of screams and splattering from the compartment. I jerked my head and saw only for a second the aftermath of people trying to fight the man that just threw me. They were sliced down or drained instantly. Whatever people were left were ushered out and shackled. I saw Anastasia and Darel being thrown out, each covered in someone else's blood. They looked at me and I saw the fear and panic in their eyes before they were ushered into some kind of moving compartment like the one we'd just been in. I felt empty and cold. Many other groups like us had made to safety, but I'd forgotten of the stories about the groups that had been recaptured by royal guards.
We happened to be one of those unlucky groups.
The vampire gripping my hair jerked my head and forced me to look at him. He was thick with muscle and his skin was slightly darker than the first vampire. His hair was short and golden, waving slightly against his temple. Red eyes stabbed into mine, making me feel weak. A cruel smile crossed his lips and he barked,
"Drake! You forgot this one!"
"I want this one," in a second, "Drake" stood next to the vampire holding me, his eyes burning with anger. A serpent-like tongue slipped out of his mouth and glided across my neck, making me shiver. He hissed,
"How dare you strike me?"
"I didn't hit you," my voice was monotone and cold, as it had always been around people I didn't know. Something hard collided with my jaw, and I felt the waves of pain pulse through my jaw as my head snapped to the side. I felt hot tears begin to fill my eyes as I slowly turned my head back to him. He was grinning, his fangs shining in the light of the afternoon sun. I looked up at the sun and back to him, and as if he read my mind, he held up his hand, where a glistening ring held a big black stone.
“The enchantments of witches are marvelous, aren’t they?”
My eyebrow twitched up in annoyance. The vampire was flaunting his power in my face. The vampire holding my hair dropped it and I stood still. He raised an eyebrow,
“Not going to run?”
“What for?” I crossed my arms, “You’ll catch me.”
“Do you care for your own life?” the blond haired vampire seemed genuinely curious, and a look of surprise crossed his face when I shrugged and shook my head. He chuckled, “Slaves like you die the fastest, you know.”
Again I shrugged, and I didn’t notice Drake slide shackles onto my ankles since he moved so fast. I felt the metal on my skin and shuddered, and Drake began to drag me along as a carriage pulled up along the path. I was roughly tossed into the carriage, slamming into the wall and sliding to the floor. My back ached something awful, but when I tried to get onto the seat, Drake hissed,
“Stay on the floor.”
With a sigh, I stayed down. I typically wasn’t a fighter, I wasn’t rebellious, and I wasn’t a trouble maker, unless I was really angry. Those kinds of things were useless, and I knew from stories of other slaves whispering in the auction house that just doing a poor job at my work would get me beat, never mind acting out. I stared at the cushion of the seat for the whole ride. The sounds of tapping were coming from Drake, but I never bothered to look and satisfy my curiosity. When the carriage jostled to a stop, my hair was yanked and I was pulled to my feet. I grit my teeth at the pain in my scalp and Drake made sure he gripped me harder. I tried my hardest to keep a straight face, but couldn’t help cringing. He seemed to enjoy my pain as he smiled, opened the carriage door and threw me out onto the concrete. I felt my skin scrape and I bit my lip as the scrapes began to burn. A heavy door opened and quick footsteps made their way over to me.
“Clean her up and make her as presentable as you can.”
Drake’s voice was emotionless, and a pair of callused little hands began to grab my arms and lift me up. I stood up and came face to face with a fair skinned, blond haired girl. Her brown eyes stared into mine, and they were glazed with pity. Her pink cheeks and small pink lips made her look like she was younger, just like Anastasia, but she was clearly older than me. Her body was an hourglass, which was fit into a long brown skirt, white apron, black corset and white blouse. The blouse was off her shoulders, and I noticed her hair was tied back in a ragged bandana. Her voice was soft and sweet,
“Come on, I’ll show you to the washrooms.”
I finally looked up at my new “home”. It was a castle much like Castle Drauvnik, only much, much larger. The gargoyles hanging from the building stared at me with open mouths, seemingly laughing at me. The doors were a deep red, laced with gold. We entered and inside was a blue fire roaring in a large fireplace. Deep red chairs were placed by a dark wooden table, where old books were stacked up. The woman led me through a long hallway, passing many doors until we finally came to a double door at the right end of the hall. She opened it and my mouth fell slightly open at the sight.
Black, shining surfaces covered the entire room. The bathtub was gleaming, built into the ground with black stone and a white inside with a small faucet, and a glass shower stood beside it. The floors and walls shined, and a large mirror hung above two sinks built into the same black stone as the tub. Several drawers were carved into the stone below the sinks, a little black chair sitting in front of it, and a black toilet sat all the way in the corner of the room. There was a black wardrobe on the opposite wall from the toilet. I was too busy admiring the room to notice that the woman had begun to take my dress off. I clutched it just before it fell off my chest and growled at her, then felt bad when she held her hands up in fear,
“I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to get you out of those dirty clothes.”
I let the tattered dress drop to the floor and watched the woman run and turn on the water in the bathtub. She smiled at me from over her shoulder,
“Have you had a master before?”
“No,” I kept my answer short to try and kill any conversation, but it didn’t stop her from continuing,
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry,” she turned and looked at me with sadness, “Master Drake isn’t soft on newcomers. He’s never had a fresh slave before, either.”
“Oh,” her sad tone made me think that this was going to be a grueling process.
“He doesn’t sell his slaves back either,” for a moment, I was filled with joy. I’d never see the auction house again if that was true. My joy quickly deflated when she sighed, “He kills them when he gets bored.” I grimaced. That was such a cruel reason to end a life, but if it meant that I’d be able to stop living such a pathetic life, I was fine with it. I just hoped that the time spent in the royal castle wouldn’t be too painful.
When the bath water was ready, the woman helped me into the tub. The water was incredibly hot and I yelped, but I eventually got used to it. The water almost immediately turned brown as layers of filth came off my body. Something about the bath felt comforting, as if I could just dissolve into it and become the water itself.
“I’m guessing you don’t have a name?” the woman scrubbed my skin with a wet cloth, loosening more dirt from my body. I winced at how hard she scrubbed my scraped skin, but answered,
“I do.”
“But you’ve never had a master!”
“The Refragatio came by today, almost freed us. I chose a name with the help of some other slaves, but the vampires caught us.”
“Oh,” she looked down, “I’m sorry… I wish you could’ve been free…” she looked far away for a moment. In an attempt to return to a lighter subject, she chirped, “What’s your name, then?”
“Xyza.”
“It’s beautiful,” she smiled, “I’m Lydia. My first master was an old vampire, he didn’t care much for punishing his slaves. I was lucky.”
I nodded as she began to scrub my face and neck, then began to wash my hair with a purple shampoo. The knots in my hair made washing it difficult and painful since my head was already sore. After she rinsed out the shampoo, she put more purple stuff into my hair, but it didn’t lather like shampoo. After a few minutes, she rinsed it out and drained the tub. I looked at my skin and sat in awe. I was milky white after being sheltered from the sun for so long. I could see dark purple bruises on parts of my skin and scrapes from being tossed around. Lydia began to dry me off with a towel and gave me a fluffy robe, then directed me to the chair in front of the sinks and mirror. I was able to look at myself for the first time in years, and I almost laughed.
My hair was damp and tangled, and my face was incredibly thin and sharp. I looked like a wet rat. My eyes were ice blue, almost white, and my eyebrows were just thick enough to look natural. My nose was curved up and reminded me of a rabbit like I’d seen children vampires playing with in Castle Drauvnik. My lips were almost red and round, and I couldn’t stop looking at them. Lydia clapped her hands, making me jump a little.
“Let’s get started on you, then! Master Drake isn’t a patient man.”
She picked up a toothbrush and squirted toothpaste on it, rinsing the paste and giving it to me. I began brushing off the layer of filth that had developed over the years in the auction house from the guards’ neglect. When I was done, Lydia gave me a tiny paper cup filled with water to spit out the paste and rinsed the brush. She took a large brush and began yanking it through my hair. I yowled as my scalp was abused more, and she tried brushing lightly, but it took too long. I grit my teeth and gripped the chair as she kept ripping the knots from my hair. Eventually it fell straight down my head and was still wet. She took a pair of scissors and began to cut it until it fell to the middle of my chest, then began to dry it with a blow dryer. Eventually my hair was completely dry and was a lot fluffier than it was when it was wet, but it fell completely straight. Lydia pinned it away and began to take a bunch of different colored powders, a black pencil, a pale liquid and a bunch of brushes out of the drawers under the sinks. She covered my face in the pale liquid and then dusted my face with powder, using a sponge to dab at my face. She then put a drop of some kind of liquid on my eyelids and started using a fluffy brush just above my lids. When I opened my eyes, I saw a soft half-circle of black around my eyes. When I closed my eyes again, she put another brush to my lids and right under my eyebrows, and drew above my eyelashes with the pencil. She made me look up and brushed my eyelashes with a black brush, and used a metal thing to clamp my eyelashes. When I looked back at myself, my eyes seemed to pop off my face and my skin looked like a doll’s. Lydia took a small brush with a nude color and swiped it along my lips, making them look a shade paler. She took a long silver rod from another drawer and plugged it into the wall, then sat waiting for a few seconds. After she was done waiting, she twirled my hair around the rod and pressed it. When she took the hair out, it fell in a loose curl that ended just above my chest. She continued curling my hair until it all fell into place in loose curls, and she then hurried over to the wardrobe and pulled out an outfit that looked just like hers.
“No,” I held up a hand, “I’m not wearing that.” After years in a tattered dress, the last thing I wanted was to wear another. I hated dresses, they made my legs chafe.
“I’m sorry, but you have to, or else Master will be angry…” Lydia stared at her little black flats and sighed.
I rolled my eyes, “Fine. Whatever.”
Lydia went to work dressing me in the long skirt, apron with big pockets, corset and blouse, and finished the outfit with little black flats and a more ruffled bandana. She didn’t wear one like that, so I glared at her and she stuttered,
“It was with the dress, I-I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine.”
About five seconds after she finished smoothing out the dress, the door flew open and Lydia snapped upright and bowed her head. I turned to face Drake, who stood staring at me like I was a plate of food and he was a man that hadn’t eaten in weeks. I kept my stare neutral as he came over and slowly walked around me, looking at me from head to toe. I held back a shiver when he moved my hair to one side of my neck and grazed his lips over my neck.
“Your name will be-“
“I already have a name,” I cut him off with a strong voice, hoping to scare him off. It didn’t work. Instead, he just dug his nails into my shoulder and hissed,
“Then what were you named?”
Lydia was about to speak but I shot her a glare that Drake couldn’t see and her words died in her throat. I spun away from Drake’s grip and felt that my skin was dented from his nails, but I growled, “Xyza.”
“Xyza?” Drake studied me, thoughtful, before nodding, “Fair enough. Lydia will take you to your room, your first list of chores will be on the bed. I expect you to be in the dining room when you’re done, I’ll be waiting.” He strode out of the bathroom without another word, and I could practically feel the arrogance radiating off of him. I scowled when the door closed and Lydia touched my arm.
“I’ll show you how to do your chores today. You don’t know how to do any housework, do you?”
I shook my head and Lydia led me out of the bathroom and down a glossy set of stone steps in a door across from us. Down the stairs we went, where the place was lit up with torches. It felt like a dungeon. Before we went to my room, Lydia showed me the other parts of the halls. We went to a room where a big stone table sat, and a large set of shower stalls that were in another room. After she showed me the other areas, we walked back until we came to a door on the right and Lydia pushed it open. A little bed with black covers and pillows sat up against the wall, a note on top of the pillows, a red carpet covering the floor and a bureau and wardrobe sitting on the other side of the room, which wasn’t far. The room wasn’t very big at all. A full length mirror hung from the wall to my left.
“This is the first and last time you’ll get a note of your chores in your room,” Lydia took the little note from the pillow and opened it. The note wasn’t very long at all, but she sighed, “We have to wash the guest bedroom floors and prep them. Seems someone is coming to visit soon.”
“Who?” I was curious to know who I’d be seeing in the guest rooms.
“I haven’t got a clue,” Lydia shrugged, “Maybe a relative.”
We went back up to the very top floor of the castle, a whole three flights of stairs up, and a hallway full of doors like almost every other sat there. Lydia huffed,
“We only have orders to clean four rooms. You’re lucky you’re new, I usually have much more than this, but I was given a break to show you how to do your chores for the next few days. In due time, you’ll feel like you’re practically cleaning the whole castle by yourself.”
“How did you know I was coming?”
“When Master Drake plunders the Refragatio, he always brings a new slave, and I always show them their duties.”
I sighed, the thought of the monster destroying hopes for freedom for so many people in my head, and followed Lydia into the first room. A bucket full of water and two mops were stationed on the ground, along with feather dusters and a vacuum. The beds were an absolute mess and there was dirt and dust everywhere. When we went to the buckets, we found two cloths in the water. Lydia handed me a wet towel and told me to wipe down the furniture. I looked around at the two large bureaus, the writing desk, the coffee table, the wardrobe, and the wooden canopy of the bed. They were all thick with age-old dust. I squeezed the extra water out of the cloth, and that’s when I noticed a tingle in my wrist. I looked down and stared at my wrist, confused.
A scar of some kind in the shape of a perfect upside down triangle took up around half an inch of space on my skin.
I felt my eyebrows pinch together as I wondered how a perfect shape like that became a scar. I couldn’t remember a time where I’d ever been cut there, or had any kind of burn. I shrugged it off and began to work, wiping the furniture with the cloth. Lydia scolded me for pressing the towel and letting the water drip everywhere, and showed me how to do it properly. She vacuumed and made up the beds while I worked on the furniture. We almost finished at the same time, but she was done vacuuming the red carpet in front of the bed and the rest of the deep hardwood floor along with changing the bed sheets before I finished wiping the furniture. My cloth was brown with dirt. We took the mops and cleaned the floors, then dusted around the room where we could reach. With both of us working, we finished quicker than if we would’ve been alone. My hands were pruned from the water, and I enjoyed the feeling.
Lydia and I continued through the next three rooms in the same way. While we were working on the last room, I asked her,
“Does Drake ever-“
“Call him Master.”
“…Does Master Drake ever abuse you?”
There was a pause. Lydia licked her lips, “Not as much as some of the slightly more unruly slaves. I sometimes don’t finish my work and he bruises my back.”
“I see no bruises on you, though,” I stared at her completely smooth back.
“The slaves all help each other hide our bruises to look as presentable as possible for Master Drake. It’s a rule here.”
I bristled, “A rule to cover up your pain?”
“Bruises are unsightly.”
“Then he shouldn’t be causing them!” I gripped the cloth in my hand so tight that a small stream of water trickled from it. “Vampires should actually care about their slaves instead of acting like such high and mighty, untouchable beings!”
“Shhh!” Lydia hissed, “Watch what you say!”
“No!” I threw the cloth in the bucket of water, making the water splash into the air a bit. My teeth hurt from grinding them together so hard, “Don’t hide your bruises anymore! Not for some beast like Drake!”
I was about to continue, my rage a force I never felt before, but Lydia threw her hand over my mouth. Her eyes were open wide, wild, and she whispered,
“Stop.”
“Why?” I pulled her hand off my mouth, my eyes going hard.
“He’ll hear you. He can hear us all.”
“Pft. How?”
“Vampires have extraordinary hearing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear me whisper right now,” Lydia looked around the room nervously, as if she expected Drake to walk into the room right that second.
“You give those beasts too much credit. He can’t hear anything. Let’s finish with these chores before the sun goes down.”
She just stared at me with her mouth open before nodding and continuing to make the bed. I felt a little guilty when she didn’t look up at me again, but I didn’t know why. All I’d done was speak the truth. When we finished cleaning, Lydia took be back downstairs to the dining room. Drake was supposed to appear and give us permission to go to bed, and tell me a few other rules of the house. I wasn’t entirely thrilled. As we entered the dining room, I was surprised to see a woman, toddler and a young man there, all with black hair and red eyes like Drake. The woman was dressed in a long, tight, deep blue dress that had a high collar and long sleeves, her waist cinched by a black corset like mine, and her hair was up in a bun. Sparkling diamond earrings dangled from her ears, and her skin was whiter than mine, her lips pale pink. The toddler, a little girl, had long, swirling waves of black hair that reached her back, her little sleeved red dress the same color as her eyes, her white tights a little lighter than her skin, and little black shoes with kitten faces painted on the top guarding her feet. She played with the silverware until the woman gave her a stern look, in which the girl shrank and put the silverware down. The man had a mop of black hair in his eyes which only reached his shoulders compared to Drake’s length, his face already sharply angled like a mature man’s, even though he only looked to be eighteen. He wore a crisp white shirt and black pants, and his skin was just as white as the woman’s. They must’ve been relatives of Drake. They sat at a long, dark brown table decorated with black flowers and candles, empty maroon placemats in front of them. The dark walls were lined with paintings of other vampires and a large crystal chandelier hung from the top of the ceiling. The floors were carpeted with red, soft looking fabric. Everything screamed royalty like I’d never seen in Castle Drauvnik, and it overwhelmed me until a voice rang out in the otherwise silent room.
“Is this the newcomer, dear?” The woman’s voice was smooth and cold as stone.
“Y-Yes, Madame.”
“Bring her here. Let me see her better.”
I walked forward without Lydia, never once breaking eye contact with the woman. She gave me a chilling grin, her fangs glinting in the light of the dining room’s chandelier. That cold voice sent shivers down my spine,
“What’s your name?”
“Xyza.”
She stared at me thoughtfully, “Aren’t you a beautiful one. I do hope my son won’t scar that face too much.”
“She’ll be dead in a week, with the way she approached you,” the boy spoke, his voice lighter than Drake’s and monotone as he played with one of the flowers at the table.
“Leo… Dear…” I watched the boy lower his head, the woman hissing, “Go take Anna to her room and play your violin. If you see Drake, tell him his slave is here.”
“Yes, mother…” Leo got up from his seat and left through the door on the right of the room, Anna following with stumbling steps. I watched after him until Drake’s mother gripped my chin with her icy fingers and stared me in the eyes,
“You hear me, rat. I am Elloria, the queen of this earth, and I will not have some kind of little vermin approach me the way you did. Next time, you come with your eyes down, and you approach me like the queen I am,” when I was silent, she shook me, “Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” her grip on my face became tighter, but I did my best not to wince. She seemed dissatisfied.
“Yes, Madame.”
She let go of me and I tried my hardest not to reach up and rub my jaw. I figured she’d be angry and do something more. My small spurt of rebellious anger while washing the rooms with Lydia had already died, and it was a good thing. This family, this royalty, it was all so problematic and I’d have to lay low if I didn’t want any grief.
Although, the worst thing that could happen was death.
It truly didn’t sound so bad. I figured it would even be a good thing.
But after seeing Lydia, her face when the family came by, when Drake talked to her, seeing the fear in every bit of her, lit something in me. I’d feel so guilty if I left Lydia behind to face Drake alone, even though she and the other slaves had many times before already. It was cruel that such kind people should be broken like that. I understood the Refragatio’s cause even more after watching Lydia and experiencing the royal family.
Within a few moments, Drake walked in through the door on the right. Elloria smiled,
“Darling, you’ve made such an interesting choice this time.”
“I know, mother,” he smiled, eyes shining with pride, “I’ve never seen someone with eyes like hers.”
“They’re somewhat intimidating, aren’t they? The way her pupils are so small. She looks like some kind of feral beast,” Elloria chuckled, studying my eyes.
“She’s more feral than the others, she had the gall to strike me today-“
“I did not strike you,” I hissed. Again, I was hit across the face, but not hard enough to send me to the ground. Elloria growled,
“How dare you say my son is a liar? How dare you hit him?”
Another hand to my face, this time really toppling me over. Both of my cheeks stung and I just sat on the ground, glaring up at the crazy woman.
Drake grabbed me by the hair and made me stand, sneering, “I opened that carriage and you struck me back out.”
“All I did was put my hands out-”
“Speak again and I’ll kill you right now.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say another word.
“I don’t know why you’re even giving her that chance. To strike royalty is a crime punishable by death,” Elloria held her head up and crossed her arms.
Drake only glanced at her before letting go of my hair and commanding, “For tomorrow, you’re expected to report here with the other slaves for your list of chores. If any are left undone, aren’t done to our satisfaction, or you complain or speak out in any way, you’ll be beaten. Should you refuse, you’ll be killed. Every day, you’ll go down to the slave halls for a bath, your breakfast and lunch. Now go to bed. Lydia will bring you back to your room. You’re not allowed to leave your room after seven. Your dirty clothes are to be left for another maid to wash. Understood?”
“Yes, Master,” I had to practically spit the word out.
“Not even a thank you for sparing your pathetic life?” Elloria narrowed her eyes. Drake stared at me expectantly, and I mumbled,
“Thank you, Master.”
Lydia grabbed my arm and took me through the door Leo and Drake had gone through. We entered the long hallways lit by candles, more paintings of sceneries and battles lining the walls, statues sitting with flowers on small tables. As we walked through the hallway, I heard a beautiful sound, a sweet ring in the air. Sometimes the sound would go deep and low, and other times it would be high and pure. A sad melody flowed around, and I couldn’t help but to pull my arm from Lydia’s hands and go towards it. I heard her hiss,
“No, stop, that’s the royal quarters!”
I didn’t care.
When I found the source of the sound, I stood in the doorway of a room much like the ones I’d cleaned, only colored in black and blue instead of black and red, and a beautiful piano like the one my parents’ master had sat in the corner of the room. Leo stood there with a wooden thing in his hand, which I guessed was his violin, dragging a long stick with hair across the strings. He seemed to be reading the sounds off the pages on the metal stand in front of him. I was able to see his fingers slide all across the long black part of the violin, the stick and his fingers moving together perfectly.
All of a sudden he stopped playing and sighed, “Get out.”
My voice was caught in my throat, and I stood there frozen. Now he turned to face me and commanded louder,
“I said, get out.”
“Is that a violin?”
“Go. Now.”
“Xyza, really, please just come with me…” Lydia gulped and tugged on my arm.
“But I want to hear it more-”
“Listen, girl,” Leo’s voice was low, “You can’t be here. Not for a moment longer.”
“Why?”
“Slaves aren’t supposed to be in the royal quarters. You’ll be beaten if someone else finds you here.”
I raised an eyebrow, “You’re not going to tell someone?”
He shook his head, “It’s hard to believe, but I don’t like the enslavement of humans. My father isn’t much of a fan of it either. My mother and Drake are the ones who want it to stay.”
I cringed in disgust. Drake and his mother were exactly the same. Leo looked at me, eyes soft, and he swallowed before whispering,
“Just go before we all get in trouble.”
“…Can I ever listen to your violin again?”
He stared at me for another moment before rushing to the door and looking both ways, then pulling Lydia and I inside and shutting the door. He motioned us to sit on the edge of his bed. Lydia kept her eyes down and chewed at her lips nervously. Leo took the papers off the stand and put up a different set. I couldn’t read the words.
“This one is a sonata, by a man named Béla Bartók.”
The song started off beautiful, but sinister, almost insane. It would get louder, then quieter, and louder again. Eventually Lydia stopped staring at the floor and looked up with interest. The song was so pretty. He stopped after a few moments and gave us a small smile,
“It’s longer, but you need to go back to your rooms. It’ll be seven soon.”
“Why aren’t we allowed out after seven?” I huffed.
“Your dinner comes to your room then, and if you aren’t there, you get whipped.”
Lydia stood from the bed and bowed, “Thank you so much, Master Leo-”
“Don’t call me master,” Leo’s face scrunched in disgust.
Her words died in her mouth and she nodded, then grabbed my arm and pulled me up. I stared at Leo as she dragged me out, and waved goodbye. He gave a small wave and smile in return. I couldn’t help but grin, Lydia and I rushing back through the hall until we were back at the bathroom and the stairs that led us down to our dungeons of rooms. Lydia quickly brought me to mine and clasped my hands in hers,
“I wish you the best of luck, Xyza.”
“You sound like I won’t ever see you again.”
“Outside of our morning routines and getting your list of chores, I don’t know if we’ll see each other much. I need to go. Goodnight, dear.”
She scurried off down the hall and I flicked on the light switch before closing the door. A tiny bulb hanging from the ceiling gave a dingy light that made the little room that much more of a prison for me. I managed to undo my corset myself, ripping all my clothes off and letting them fall to the floor. As I made my way to the wardrobe, I was hoping Drake wouldn’t expect me to sleep in my work clothes.
I smiled when I opened the wardrobe and saw sleek black pajamas. Somewhere, a big clock chimed seven times. I quickly threw the clothes on, a pair of small black shorts and a long black shirt with short sleeves hanging off of me. They were surprisingly soft. A few more maid outfits sat in the wardrobe, and black pajamas. I sighed.
My life as a slave had finally begun.
In a few moments, someone banged on the door. When I opened it, a tired older woman sat there with a cart full of small trays and large glasses of water. She handed me a tray and glass, then left without a word. I closed the door with my foot and sat down on the bed. The tray was incredibly small, so I wasn’t expecting much. When I took the lid off, there was a chunk of bread, apple and small piece of meat. I guessed it was chicken. Even though it was only a small amount of food, I was happy at the idea of getting to eat that much on a daily basis. The chicken was tender, the apple was sweet and the bread was fresh, even hot, like it was just out of the oven. I gulped everything down and finished with the water, and by then I realized how tired I was. I’d only cleaned for rooms, and I even had help. It made me uneasy, thinking about how tired I’d be when I started doing real chores. For the moment, I decided to just turn off the little light bulb, climb under the covers and go to sleep. Surprisingly, the bed and pillows were soft, too. The blanket was perfectly warm. My eyes stung with tears of joy at having food and someplace warm and clean to sleep for the first time in ages. I fell asleep soundly that night, completely forgetting the reality of my situation, and happy about it.