As usual, the footsteps were unbearably loud. Eluvie took a moment to count and counted five sets of them, one more than the previous day. Carefully, but with haste, she pushed off the bedcovers and sat up.
She felt for the edge of the bed with her hands, spun, and found the ground with her feet. Then, out of habit, she tugged at her blindfold and ensured that it was secure. When the door opened, she assumed the usual posture: back straight and hands by her side in the center of the room.
“Oi! It’s so dark in here,” Madam Ria said.
The caretaker stomped over to the windows and drew the curtains aside. Eluvie imagined the streaming light she could not see and strained to feel the sun’s warmth on her face.
Madam Ria thundered back to the center of the room. She always walked that way - with the confidence of a general before his troops.
“Undress,” Madam Ria ordered.
Eluvie obeyed immediately.
Her dress was a simple one with buttons down the front. They were not difficult to undo, but they were plentiful. That meant that at least once a week, Madam Ria would decide that she was being too slow, slap her, and take over the task. Today, her fingers didn’t fumble, and she was done within a minute.
She shrugged off the dress, then sent her shift and underpants after it. It must have been cold outside. A slight breeze raised the hair on her arms. She almost hugged herself but stopped before she could give Madam Ria an excuse for ‘discipline.’
“Watch what I do,” Madam Ria said.
She was addressing the fifth person. No one else would need the instruction.
She spun Eluvie around so that her front faced the open window and her back faced the workers. Eluvie took a moment to brace herself, then Madam Ria ripped the bandage off her back. The pain brought tears to her eyes. She gritted her teeth, held her position, and began to count silently. The routine action brought its usual calm by transporting her away from the proceedings.
“We inspect the wound every day,” Madam Ria said. As she spoke, she poked a finger into one gash on Eluvie’s back. Eluvie gasped and stiffened. That achieved nothing. Madam Ria ran her finger down the entire wound, from just below Eluvie’s shoulder blades down to her waistline, prodding every single inch. Then, she repeated the process with the second, identical wound.
“Do it thoroughly,” Madam Ria said. “If you fail, I’ll kill you myself before Lady Mirab can. If you feel any growth, report it immediately. Come. Feel it.”
Eluvie almost screamed, but this happened every time they trained a new person. She was forced to endure a second, clumsy inspection while Madam Ria explained what a ‘growth’ felt like.
When the new woman finally stepped back, Eluvie could still feel the pain from her fingers.
“So, she can really grow wings?” the new woman asked in a voice dripping with wonder and jealousy.
“Not if you want to live,” Madam Ria said. “If you ever see her wings, feast your eyes because the next thing you see will be the inside of the river with boulders tied to your legs. This is not a carnival. It’s a job.” To Eluvie, she said, "We're going to the bathroom now. Walk ahead."
Eluvie walked slowly. She knew the way by heart, but she still felt for it with her hands. The workers were known to move objects, ignorantly or out of spite. Six steps forward, turn left, five steps forward. She found the door there and went through it. The entire company followed behind her.
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"What do we do if she takes the blindfold off?" the new woman asked.
"She won't," Madam Ria said. "If she does, it means extra time in the bath."
"What is it for, the blindfold?" the woman asked again.
"You don't need to know that," Madam Ria replied.
Eluvie stopped in the middle of the bathroom and waited.
Madam Ria stopped behind her and reached for the blindfold. "Keep your eyes closed," she said; a command and a warning.
Eluvie kept them tightly closed and revelled in the sensation of the blindfold coming off. It was the closest she ever came to sight. She briefly wondered why they hadn't simply removed her eyes. She had taken off the blindfold only once - to no great effect - and their retribution had been swift and frantic, bordering on terror. So, why did they maintain the risk?
Her mind returned to the scene before her, and with that, her mood, already remarkably low, sank further. She loathed the next step. She loathed it for the pain it involved, but also because each repetition seemed to chip away at her. Her patience and sanity seemed like pebbles worn away by the daily action of raindrops. And she feared what she would be when the last piece fell away.
She considered running, or screaming, or attacking them, but fear held her in place. None of those attempts - doomed to fail - were worth the consequences.
She heard cloth tearing, and then pieces were stuffed into her nostrils. Once, Madam Ria had failed to do it properly, and the inside of Eluvie's nose had burned for two days.
She began breathing through her mouth. "Make sure to stuff the cloth very high up," Madam Ria said. "It won't kill her, but if it gets into her lungs, she'll be useless for days. Now, we make sure to get every bit of skin. In you go."
She pushed Eluvie toward the bathtub.
Eluvie stumbled forward and stopped. It did not matter how often they did this. She could never go willingly. Madam Ria never argued over it anymore; she was already pulling on a pair of gloves. She gave Eluvie a moment's warning - for duty's sake, not compassion - and then dragged Eluvie into the bathtub.
The first moment was terrible. Every one after that was worse. The liquid was as thick as oil and sharp as boiling water, and every moment in it felt as if her skin was being stripped off. That was the point, after all.
She always told herself that she would endure it with dignity, and that always proved false. She was thrashing even before she was completely submerged. Unfortunately for her, Madam Ria and her helpers were strong. Each took hold of one quarter of her body and held her down as surely as chains would. She released her breath within seconds, and the liquid rushed into her mouth, burning as it did so.
She had lost track of time. When the arms released her, only 60 seconds later, it felt like an eternity had passed. She crawled out of the tub and onto the stone floor, sobbing all the while, eyes still closed. Hands pulled her up and toweled her dry. One of them was gentle, but the others were just business-like. They kept working on her until all the burning was gone - except from her mouth. Then they replaced her blindfold.
“You inspect her after that,” Madam Ria said, “make sure that you didn’t miss any spots. If you did, she has to go in again.” They half-dragged her back into the bedroom. Her legs did not work and she did not want them to. There, she stood still again, shivering violently. Madam Ria used a knife to scrape more flesh out of the gashes on her back, widening them ever so slightly. Then, she rubbed a cool-burning ointment into the wound and bandaged it again. They forced Eluvie into new clothes, identical in style to the ones she had discarded, and then forced her to drink a bitter liquid.
“You’ll need to remember all of that,” Madam Ria said. “The others will help you, but I’d better not hear any excuses.” Eluvie had already collapsed on the floor. Its wood was uneven and sharp in places, but bearing the prickles was easier than standing.
“Does she ever wear anything else?” the newcomer asked.
“This is adequate,” Madam Ria said. “We have some dresses made for when she has to attend a feast. But it’s not as if she does anything else.” Eluvie had worn the same clothes for years. They were serviceable, but she suspected that they were well beyond faded.
Silence fell on the room. Eluvie thought she sensed pity in it, and that made her angry. They were monsters; a little compassion could not confer humanity on them. She held that thought close to her chest. It warmed her. Someday, if she ever escaped, she would draw on its reassurance. But until then, she had resolved never to grant her captors one precious, kind thought.
She ate on the floor. At times like that, the humiliations seemed more vindictive than necessary. The palace was full of chairs. It would have cost nothing to grant her one. Yet, her room was furnished with nothing but a wobbly bed and a window. Breakfast was cold bread, boiled eggs, and water, eaten under the impatient eyes of her caretakers. She ate quickly enough that they could find no fault, barely swallowing one mouthful before beginning another. As impatient as they were, they wouldn’t keep her from eating. They might torture her mind, but her body was important. Their impatience served one important purpose, however. It told Eluvie what day it was. Six days a week, she was allowed to eat her breakfast and then wallow in boredom for the rest of the day. But on one day, they dragged her to the doctor, and then to the rulers’ council meeting.
Once the last morsel was in her mouth, Eluvie stood and waited for direction.
“Did you dream?” Madam Ria asked.
Eluvie shook her head. “No.”
Madam Ria paused, as if she suspected that Eluvie was lying, but eventually accepted her answer. "If she ever says yes," Madam Ria said, "then ask her what it was about. If there's anything substantial, skip the doctor's visit and take her straight to Lady Mirab."
"What kind of dreams are important?" the new person asked.
"Anything that is about more than food or escape," Madam Ria said. "But especially dreams about others like her. Let's go."