The depths of the imposing village chief's mansion harbored secrets that only its occupants were allowed to know. A long underground labyrinth extended beneath the entire surface of Ys, passages lit by the flickering glow of torches affixed to stone walls.

At the heart of these basements, Jack was sitting backward on a rustic chair. His nonchalant posture contrasted with the seriousness of the atmosphere. In front of him, separated by heavy steel bars, was Yulia.

Her cell reflected her state of mind: cold, gray, and devoid of any comfort. The raw concrete walls, devoid of any decoration, echoed her despair. The sole source of light, a small barred window placed too high for her to look through, projected a pale, heatless light that heightened the feeling of oppression.

She sat huddled on the straw mattress that served as her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. The mattress was hard and uncomfortable, but she didn't care. She was cold, not only because of the ambient temperature, but also because of the cold that had settled in her heart. Loneliness, silence, and cold – they were all there to remind her at every moment where she was, and what she had lost.

Disoriented, her entire universe had flipped upside down in just one day. The day before, she was still free, surrounded by those she loved, and now, she was locked up, isolated from everything dear to her.

Thoughts of her little Lily tormented her. She hadn't kissed her that morning, naively presuming that she would do so when she returned home, as she did every evening. The vision of her daughter, with her golden curls and curious gaze, brought tears to her eyes.

The coarse, worn gray blanket that Jack had given her when she arrived was just enough to preserve her dignity, it smelled of dampness and mold. The ambient humidity in the cells had permeated the fabric, but it was all she had been given to protect herself from the biting chill of the basement.

The man observed Yulia with an impassive eye. His silence was as heavy as the moisture that impregnated the cell walls, adding extra pressure to the already heavy air. Time seemed to have stopped, only the dancing flame of the torches on the walls reminding him that the world outside was still turning.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice echoing against the stone walls. He made a gesture with his hand, and a maid timidly approached the cell, a bucket of water and clean linens in her hands.

"Clean her up!"

He commanded, his eyes still fixed on Yulia. The maid nodded, opened the cell door, and walked over to Yulia. She roughly pulled on the rag Yulia used as a blanket and tossed it far from the room. The young captive tried to stop her, but she no longer had the strength, she decided to let it go, accepting the fate that was offered to her.

Yulia felt violated. The way the servant was cleaning her without mercy as if she was a piece of dirty laundry and not a person, was degrading. She felt reduced to an object, a thing to be cleaned and put away, with no regard for her dignity or humanity. Every rough scrub of the brush against her skin, every bucket of cold water poured over her, every gesture of the maid was just another humiliation to add to the list.

She closed her eyes, trying to escape this dehumanizing reality by retreating into herself. Trying to remember who she was, who she had been before she was imprisoned before her life was reduced to this series of humiliations. But with each brush stroke, each drop of cold water that chilled her skin, she was brought back to the harsh reality of her situation. She felt reduced to an object to clean, ignored as a human being.

While the servant, her figure bent by age, bustled around Yulia, Jack spoke.

"Joe was a scumbag."

His voice echoed in the vaulted room. The sounds of the water mixed with the noise of rags rubbing Yulia's bruised skin, who held back a scream when the old woman scrubbed the dried blood a little too hard. His voice was devoid of emotion. He added bluntly.

"He always had a habit of hiding behind the Elders, like a spider in its web. I can't even count the number of times the Elders had to cover his back. You are far from being the first..."

A shadow crossed his face as he sank into the back of his chair, his fingers gently drumming against the worn wood. His mouth twisted in a grimace of distaste as he revealed the harsh truth to Yulia.

"The judgment awaiting you will be harsh."

His deep voice echoed against the stone walls. The words seemed to linger in the air, floating like invisible specters. He added, almost reluctantly.

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"They're discussing right now how to divide among themselves everything Joe accumulated during his long life. Did you know he owned an abandoned gold mine?"

Yulia remained silent, horrified. She knew she was in a dangerous situation, but the more Jack opened his mouth, the more hopeless it became for her. The mere thought of never seeing her family, her little Lily, of no longer being able to sing her lullaby brought tears to her eyes.

The tradition in the village was both an honor and a curse. A system based on respect for those who were gone, but which, ironically, paved the way for greed and lust. When a village member with no legitimate heirs passed away, all their possessions were bequeathed to the community. These assets were supposed to be used for the good of all, helping to support those in need or to fund village improvement projects. It was a beautiful idea on paper.

In reality, things happened differently. The village elders, the wise ones supposed to oversee the fair distribution of these assets, were often corrupted by temptation. They manipulated the system to their advantage, dividing the most valuable assets among themselves, leaving little or nothing for those who truly needed them.

"To keep their loot, the Elders will leave no witnesses. You'll likely be sentenced to death, hung in the village square."

By accusing her and condemning her to death, they would eliminate anyone who might question Joe's legacy. Her conviction would serve to distract the community from the real issue: control over Joe's gold mine. By shifting the people's attention to the trial, the elders could quietly divide the loot. The hanging would be presented as an act of justice when in truth, it was an act of opportunism.

He paused, letting the implications of his words permeate the room. Then, with deliberate slowness, he dropped the last piece of his cruel puzzle:

"But there is another option you might consider. Submission."

The air seemed to freeze, Jack's statement echoing in the confined space. Yulia looked at him, her eyes wide, surprise and horror mingled in her gaze. The maid finished her work and, as if understanding the importance of the moment, discreetly moved away, leaving the young woman with a pile of clothes and the two protagonists alone with this new proposition.

"This collar, it's like a promise. A promise that you make to yourself, to me, and to the village. A promise to do better, to redeem yourself."

Jack plunged his hand into his bag and pulled out a finely engraved black iron necklace.

"For a while, you'll wear this collar. You'll work on correcting your mistakes, on making amends. But it's not just you who's making a promise. I also commit not to harm you and to respect your boundaries. It's a promise that works both ways."

Explained Jack, his eyes fixed on Yulia. He sketched a weak smile, seeking to bring some warmth to this desperate situation.

"And the best part? If you honor your commitment, if you do everything in your power to redeem yourself, then this collar will detach itself when the time comes. It's not forever, Yulia. It's just for a moment, only the time to show everyone that you can change."

Yulia burst out into bitter laughter, the grotesque reality of Jack's proposition hitting her full force. Her sarcastic melody filled the cell, the stone walls echoing each note back into the oppressive silence. She wiped away a tear that had sprung from her eyes, proof of the mixed emotion overwhelming her.

"So, this is it, Jack? Is that right?"

She said, a spark of defiance gleaming in her eyes.

"And what's my end of the deal? What's the trade-off for wearing... this collar? What do you get in return for my 'redemption'?"

She spoke the last word with obvious disdain, as if she found it almost insulting. Her gaze never left Jack's, demanding an answer to her question. She needed to know what she was risking before she could make a decision. Jack, unperturbed by her mirth, simply nodded.

"Become my wife, Yulia." He said calmly.

"For the next 10 years, act as a loving wife to me."

Jack's words resonated in Yulia's head, her eyes clouding over as she pictured her children alone, motherless. But she didn't respond, her mind overwhelmed by the cruel reality of her situation. Jack leaned towards her, the glow from the oil lamp revealing deeply buried feelings.

"I've always loved you, Yulia." He confessed softly.

"And I promise I'll treat you well."

He took a pause, his eyes riveted on her.

"You can see your children as much as you wish."

He added as if revealing a trump card. Yulia stared at him, a mix of defiance and hope in her gaze.

A silence fell over the cell, Jack's words hanging in the air like a sentence. Yulia's face was unreadable, her thoughts lost in the abyss of the choices before her.

Jack's proposal floated in the damp, charged air, weighing heavily on Yulia's shoulders. She stared at Jack, trying to decipher his intentions behind that impassive gaze. Ten years, she thought, a decade of obedience. A decade of presenting herself to the world as this man's wife, sharing his bed and likely bearing his children. She felt a bitter taste in her mouth as if she had swallowed a gulp of Old Joe's wine.

Yet, she thought of her children. The small hands clinging to her dress, the innocent smiles that lit up her world. She pictured them growing up, evolving, laughing, and playing. She imagined them without her, their laughter turned into tears, their innocence shattered by the loss of their mother. The thought made her shiver, her heart painfully contracting in her chest.

Jack watched her, patience in his gaze. He didn't seem to mind the passing of time or even the creeping dampness. There was no impatience in his eyes, no hurry. He was just waiting for her answer, an answer that would change the course of both their lives.

"I... I'll think about it," Yulia finally declared, her trembling voice betraying the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. It was all she could do, all she had the strength to do. Jack simply nodded in acknowledgment, slowly rising from his chair. He took one last look at her before leaving the cell, leaving Yulia alone with her thoughts and fears.

As the cell door closed behind Jack, Yulia wrapped herself in the musty blanket, her mind boiling as she began to weigh the pros and cons of Jack's proposal. Her thoughts came and went, circling like vultures around a carcass. This was a decision she couldn't make lightly, a decision that would affect not only her life but also that of her children.