Status: In progress but looking for feedback. The Prologue has been trimmed! More chapters coming soon :)
Always Anyways...
Agony of service
How my days of silent solitude and boredom has turned into days of sheer agony! With each sunrise in Taggart's arms, I dreaded the endless hours of the day. There was a time that I remember being bored in Lady Ruth's service, silly hours of sowing pretty little things or even more hours of listening to endless passages from her Holy Bible. How my mind dreamed of more excitement or feeling the wind tugging at my hair while riding my horse at full speed. Now I counted each sunrise in the desperate hopes that when Prince Alaric returned to his men, I might be free of this punishment that has befallen me.
Each night I returned to Taggart worse then when I left him. Body painfully aching, shoulders so sore that I could sometimes barely lift my arms above my head. My hands cracked deeper and sometimes bled from the endless water and harsh soaps we cleaned with. My body covered in sweat from muscles that I had never used as a Princess. My feet swelled and barely fit inside my shoes from so many hours of the day on my feet. My hands were covered in small burns and cuts from my lack of skills in the kitchen, despite Madge's most genuine attempts to teach me her ways. My appetite was stolen away by the work, and despite my utter exhaustion and weakness, I could not bring myself to swallow a single mouthful. I was endlessly filthy, my body in pain and my mind wishing only to collapse onto a bed and never open my eyes again. But each night when I would return to my tiny cell of a room and see Taggart still struggling with his own pain and wounds that were only just starting to heal, bruises whose swelling only started to recede, I knew I must endure another day for him, for us to be safe. I could not let my complaints, my weaknesses and my fragile nature will get the best of me.
This was my burden to carry, perhaps from the years of being so blind, for making so many foolish decisions. I started to second guess all that I had ever done in my life, all the naive and blind ideas I ever had. There was one day, when Beremud declared that the floors must be scrubbed, that I truly learned the lesson of humility. He cared little for the cleanliness of the place. He wanted only to see me on my hands and knees, crawling across the floor while he and his men leered at me, hours long of comments about their plans for me if they were lucky enough to get me alone. Madge who scrubbed at my side, kept my strength going when she heard me gasp out a sob. "You scrub child, and you block your mind to their words. Soon this floor will be finished." I nodded to her wisdom and focused on each stone, and getting it clean before moving to the next. That night I could barely stand from the large bruises that formed on my knees, as my back screamed in revolt at each twist, I swore that I would never make a young servant girl ever endure such agony in my presence again.
That was also the night that Beremud's ever searching eyes and forceful hands got what they wished for. As I passed him late at night, to once again fill his cup with ale, my hands trembled exhausted at the task. He snatched my wrist, holding it there, "Put down the jug..." I did as he instructed, thinking he only wanted more ale for himself. But once I did, he yanked hard on my arm, my shoulders having no strength to resist, and sent me tumbling into his lap. The men all witnessed it and whooped up into cheers with further leering. He quickly wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest tightly. I pressed my palms into his shoulder, "Release me," I growled and Beremud's face swept into a lecherous smile, "No...I rather like you right here." His fingers searching for the edge of my dress. I pressed him harder, trying to push free from his arms. "Do not touch me," I growled again. He snickered to himself, "Who will stop me??" A great anger rose in my chest, "Your Prince." I said firmly. He bounced me a little and threw me off balance, and the men roared even more at the entertainment. "Foolish girl, my Prince is not here!" he said nearly in a sing song voice, as his eyes traveled down to the bodice of my dress. "If you do not let me go, I will claim that every bruise, every cut on my royal body came at the hands of you and your men. I will claim how I fought back desperately, only to be overpowered as you took me against his command. How my womb is tainted by your common seed, destroying his hopes for a noble heir." I threatened low and soft, my eyes never leaving his. He narrowed his eyes at me, sizing me up to see if I made a threat or a promise. When he hesitated, I lifted my dress just enough to show the large bruises on my knees from the day's work. "Do you think he will doubt those and where my mouth has been??" I said even deeper and quieter. His lip curled into a sneer, "Clever little whore." He shoved me hard, sending me tumbling to the ground at his feet. I landed hard, and it caused the men to holler again in excitement. But I knew I had won and as I pulled myself up. I flashed a little smile at Beremud before he grabbed my arm, shoving me away as was his habit, "Get more ale girl!!" The men around him cheered, lifting their cups in anticipation. When I went back to my room that night, it was a small won victory.
Each night I returned to Taggart worse then when I left him. Body painfully aching, shoulders so sore that I could sometimes barely lift my arms above my head. My hands cracked deeper and sometimes bled from the endless water and harsh soaps we cleaned with. My body covered in sweat from muscles that I had never used as a Princess. My feet swelled and barely fit inside my shoes from so many hours of the day on my feet. My hands were covered in small burns and cuts from my lack of skills in the kitchen, despite Madge's most genuine attempts to teach me her ways. My appetite was stolen away by the work, and despite my utter exhaustion and weakness, I could not bring myself to swallow a single mouthful. I was endlessly filthy, my body in pain and my mind wishing only to collapse onto a bed and never open my eyes again. But each night when I would return to my tiny cell of a room and see Taggart still struggling with his own pain and wounds that were only just starting to heal, bruises whose swelling only started to recede, I knew I must endure another day for him, for us to be safe. I could not let my complaints, my weaknesses and my fragile nature will get the best of me.
This was my burden to carry, perhaps from the years of being so blind, for making so many foolish decisions. I started to second guess all that I had ever done in my life, all the naive and blind ideas I ever had. There was one day, when Beremud declared that the floors must be scrubbed, that I truly learned the lesson of humility. He cared little for the cleanliness of the place. He wanted only to see me on my hands and knees, crawling across the floor while he and his men leered at me, hours long of comments about their plans for me if they were lucky enough to get me alone. Madge who scrubbed at my side, kept my strength going when she heard me gasp out a sob. "You scrub child, and you block your mind to their words. Soon this floor will be finished." I nodded to her wisdom and focused on each stone, and getting it clean before moving to the next. That night I could barely stand from the large bruises that formed on my knees, as my back screamed in revolt at each twist, I swore that I would never make a young servant girl ever endure such agony in my presence again.
That was also the night that Beremud's ever searching eyes and forceful hands got what they wished for. As I passed him late at night, to once again fill his cup with ale, my hands trembled exhausted at the task. He snatched my wrist, holding it there, "Put down the jug..." I did as he instructed, thinking he only wanted more ale for himself. But once I did, he yanked hard on my arm, my shoulders having no strength to resist, and sent me tumbling into his lap. The men all witnessed it and whooped up into cheers with further leering. He quickly wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest tightly. I pressed my palms into his shoulder, "Release me," I growled and Beremud's face swept into a lecherous smile, "No...I rather like you right here." His fingers searching for the edge of my dress. I pressed him harder, trying to push free from his arms. "Do not touch me," I growled again. He snickered to himself, "Who will stop me??" A great anger rose in my chest, "Your Prince." I said firmly. He bounced me a little and threw me off balance, and the men roared even more at the entertainment. "Foolish girl, my Prince is not here!" he said nearly in a sing song voice, as his eyes traveled down to the bodice of my dress. "If you do not let me go, I will claim that every bruise, every cut on my royal body came at the hands of you and your men. I will claim how I fought back desperately, only to be overpowered as you took me against his command. How my womb is tainted by your common seed, destroying his hopes for a noble heir." I threatened low and soft, my eyes never leaving his. He narrowed his eyes at me, sizing me up to see if I made a threat or a promise. When he hesitated, I lifted my dress just enough to show the large bruises on my knees from the day's work. "Do you think he will doubt those and where my mouth has been??" I said even deeper and quieter. His lip curled into a sneer, "Clever little whore." He shoved me hard, sending me tumbling to the ground at his feet. I landed hard, and it caused the men to holler again in excitement. But I knew I had won and as I pulled myself up. I flashed a little smile at Beremud before he grabbed my arm, shoving me away as was his habit, "Get more ale girl!!" The men around him cheered, lifting their cups in anticipation. When I went back to my room that night, it was a small won victory.