For a moment, I thought he might hit me, making me cringe. But instead, he exhaled sharply.

“Very well,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll replace your shackles with a spell. You’ll be free to move as you please. But mark my words, your every step will be known to me. Try anything foolish, and I will kill you without hesitation. Do you understand?”

"Okay..." I said meekly, half afraid, half confused by his constant need to be aggressive.

“Consider it done,” he spat, as though the words tasted foul in his mouth. “My debt is paid, and I owe you nothing more." He sneered at me, his satisfaction barely concealed. "I’ll cast the spell tonight. It will bind you until the day I die, so look forward to that," he added with a vicious grin as he got up to leave.

I sat there, contemplating the absurdity of being shackled by magic instead of iron, when another thought struck me.

"And shoes," I said, my voice cutting through the stillness as he began to walk away.

Blert froze mid-step, then turned to glare at me. "I said one reward."

"Shoes." I repeated, tone firm. "It is a simple request." I replied, not bothering to hide the exasperation in my voice.

"... Fine.",

I smiled sweetly, fully aware of how much it irked him. "Thank yu."

Blert grumbled something unintelligible as he stormed out of the carriage, slamming the door so hard it rattled on its hinges, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

If there was one thing I’d learned in my godforsaken life, it was that I needed to fight tooth and nail for every scrap of kindness, every bit of happiness—and, in this case, a pair of shoes.

~

Maybe a dozen minutes had gone by while I waited alone in the carriage when the door creaked open just a crack.

Before I could react, a pair of shoes flew through the gap, landing with a thud at my feet.

My face gathered into a confused frown as I glanced at the glass.

Blert stood outside, his face a mixture of irritation and something else—embarrassment, perhaps?

His eyes flicked to the shoes and then back to me, as if daring me to say something.

Before I could, he turned sharply on his heels and bellowed, “Holison! Get over here!”

His voice was harsh, a cover for whatever discomfort he felt. With that, he stalked away, leaving me staring at the worn shoes now lying on the carriage floor.

The door opened wider, letting in Penelope Ashdown's personal maid, who took on the confused expression instead of me.

"It's happened..." I muttered, my expression melting into an innocent child's grin.

My breath hitched as I stared at the shoes, which seemed two sizes too big for my feet. A wave of emotion swelled in my chest.

The thought of no longer feeling the sharp sting of gravel cutting into my bare feet and the constant chill of the earth seeping into my bones was almost too much to bear.

I reached for the shoes. The leather was rough against my fingers, and the soles were worn thin. But I was grinning from ear to ear.

This was goodbye to jagged stones biting into my skin and icy coldness creeping up through my legs.

I slipped them on, my feet swimming in the too-large space, but the relief was immediate.

As I adjusted the shoes, trying to make them fit as best as I could, Alice continued to watch me, her silence heavy with suspicion. Finally, she broke it.

“Where did these come from, my lady?” she asked, her voice faintly laced with curiosity.

I looked up. “I'm a lucky vitch, that's where,” I replied, letting out small giggles as I stretched my feet.

Penelope Ashdown's feet were a pale porcelain color; her skin was smooth, her ankle slender, and the whole had a pinkish hue that remained despite the dirt and dryness caused by poor hygiene.

I had thought it a waste for such a pretty and delicate body to remain in such a rough state until now.

But worry not, wherever you are, Other Penelope. I will build you back up. I'll take such good care of us that you'll regret leaving your body to me.

Where have you gone, anyway?

Alice’s gaze didn’t waver, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“Since when did you employ such unseemly language, my lady?”

“I am no lady, not anymore. I am a pwisoner of the empire. I might as vell play my part, no?" I said, turning my attention back to the shoes and fiddling with the laces as an excuse to avoid her gaze. “A bit of luck does find its vay to the likth of me, afte all.”

"I suppose so." She mumbled, giving me an unconvinced look as she stepped out of the carriage. "I shall be attending to my duties now, Lady Penelope."

I nodded and leaned back in the chair, my grin slowly fading as I watched Alice make her way out.

"Absurd. Me and questions," Alice realized, looking slightly shaken as she walked away.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Alice was either too shrewd or too observant for my liking. I couldn't tell which, but I had an inkling she would be a troublesome partner.

Nevertheless, she is going to prison for Penelope Ashdown's sake, and she must carry a great deal of hatred for her in her heart. But I am not that woman.

I won't be fabricating excess sympathy for someone more fortunate than I am. That isn't how I live.

And I can't afford it, anyway.

I might feel a bit guilty about it once I make it out of here, but I will make sure to remember, then, now, and ever after, that I am the real victim here.

Everyone else can choke.

I sat there for a while, the worn-down shoes now clinging to my feet feeling like a small victory. It wasn't much, but out here, where the horizon was clear and the world seemed so deceptively simple, it felt like I had gained a little more room to breathe.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, I’d figure out how to use this ridiculous spell against him, and he’d soon wish he had just left me in chains.

~

A grassy patch dotted with a few boulders in the middle of a treeless horizon—that was my dining area for the night.

As for dinner...

“Awe they pewhaps twying to poison me? Be honest.” My voice echoed faintly into the quiet night, my frustration barely masked.

Several meters away, the real campsite was set up—a bustling little world of light compared to the sad cloth I sat on, cross-legged, staring out at the endless, colorless horizon. The large bonfire at the center of their camp made it look like a city of light. Around it, the knights and maids were clearly enjoying themselves, filling the air with booming laughter and lively chatter.

To my far left, Fars—the toothless knight—hummed an obnoxiously loud tune, as if to remind me that someone was always watching. If I squinted hard enough to my right, I could make out Truman’s shadow standing guard beside a large boulder, quite a distance away. His stance made him look like a tree without a crown.

“Alice,” I called, rolling my eyes as I spotted her head poking out from behind a boulder a few steps ahead.

She straightened up, slightly startled, her shoulder-length hair falling into place as she stepped into view. “You knew I was here,” she stated, sounding somewhat surprised.

“Yes. I’m not blind,” I replied dryly. I had seen her hiding while Fars escorted me here.

I gave Alice a long look, waiting for some explanation for her unnecessary presence. But she merely dusted her black dress and kept her gaze away, her pale pink eyes betraying her lack of desire to even talk to me.

“I asked you a question,” I repeated, turning my attention to my ‘dinner’—a half-cooked lizard on a stick.

“It is edible and carries no toxins, my lady. I made sure of it,” she nodded, her tone flat.

“I saw the maids plucking tthickens earlier…” I mumbled, turning the stick in my hand as I scrunched up my nose at the sight of the crimson creature’s bloated belly. “Can’t you, like…” I leaned in, lowering my voice, “steal some tthicken for me? I’ve been thinking about it all nuun…”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do, Lady Penelope. The commander’s orders are absolute.”

She didn’t even hesitate. What an a—wait, Blert?

“Blewt? Vat does he have to do with this?”

“Sir Blert spoke passionately to the cook about how you reminded him of a snake... And so the cook had the bright idea to prepare you... Well, a dinner fit for a snake."

I shot Alice a disgusted look, my eyebrows knitting together.

“I… Two gwown men," I began, but words failed me. “You can go.” I waved a dismissive hand at her.

This conversation is making me die inside.

She nodded and turned away.

“Why awe you here?” I remembered to ask, tossing the lizard aside.

Alice turned to face me, her expression as monotone as ever. “Orders.”

Right, orders.

I nodded shallowly, watching her hop back behind her rock.

I turned to Truman, who still stood like a stiff sentry in the night.

His posture was rigid, but I noticed how his head occasionally bobbed as if he were daydreaming.

“Twuman,” I pronounced. His name felt unusual on my tongue.

“Yes!?” The knight turned to me suddenly, all the way from where he stood.

My eyes widened. How did he hear me whisper from all the way over there?!

“Lady Penelope,” Truman closed the distance between us, blinking as though he’d just woken from a pleasant nap. “You called for me?”

I stood up from the grass, meeting his golden gaze with an uneasy grin.

“Uh…” My eyes drifted to the glass dagger strapped to his waist, and I pursed my lips. “Yes… I cawed you because of, uh…”

Might as well put my plan into action already. Here’s to hoping I won’t get murdered or something.

“I wequire a favor,” I whispered, my hand brushing against the bandages that wrapped my neck. The injury throbbed, a constant reminder of the danger I'm in.

Truman’s gaze was steady, his face showing little emotion, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

“I’ve heard that—”

GROWL.

I froze.

Was that my stomach?

GROWWWWL.

Truman blinked, then let out a chuckle, scratching his forehead.

I clenched my fists, forcing a smile. “Well… it seemth my body is betwaying me.” My voice came out tight, almost strained. Totally because of my jaw...

God, I'm so fucking hungry.

“I know,” he said with a casual wave of his hand, “Me too.”

I held myself back not to ask what he meant.

“Be that as it may, Sir Truman," Such big woman words.

Disregarding the pain, I pulled my speech pattern together. I needed to play the respectable noblewoman. Very much so.

"My need for your assistance is... quite urgent.” I watched him carefully, noting the almost indifferent set of his features under the moonlight—relaxed, perhaps even a bit bored.

The guy had the air of someone who never quite paid attention to anything serious.

“I was hoping you might… procure something edible from the camp’s kitchen,” I said, letting a touch of exasperation seep into my voice. “The lizard they served earlier… There." I pointed to the stick on the ground. "It won’t do.”

Truman tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in thought, though it seemed more like a purposeful delay than genuine consideration.

“… I could do that, I suppose,” he said slowly, as if the idea had only just occurred to him. Then, with a sudden, unnatural brightness, he added, “For a small fee, of course.”

Self-serving, are we?

How convenient.