“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Nira screamed as she bolted upright in bed. A terrible idea, as last night’s wounds hadn’t even begun to heal. One of the bandages covering the side of her stomach slipped off, and blood started pouring out from the wound, coating the bed sheet in a ghastly deep red. Wait, bandages?
“Relax. Don’t move. Your wounds need to heal,” Sir Varus said as he rushed to the side of the bed to look at Nira’s unraveled bandage. He assessed the damage and carefully leaned Nira back. Once Nira’s posture met his satisfaction, he began to wrap the wound with fresh bandages.
“Why?” Nira tilted her head and managed to croak out. Though she didn’t show it, she was caught off guard by the hoarseness in her voice. It sounded like sandpaper.
Sir Varus looked at her with a pleasant smile as he finished the final touches on the bandage and said, “So you can heal, silly. If you die after one beating, then where is the punishment in that? Did you think last night’s beating was the only one you would face? We will start back once you recover.”
Nira’s soul dropped. Her body gave, and she sunk further into the bed. Ignoring the alarms from her body’s pain, she only felt the horror of what her life had in store for her. Days of constant torture. Nights of constant pain. Paying the price for a crime she didn’t commit. And then recovering, only for the cycle to start again. She would be chained to this mad man for eternity.
“A-a-are you allowed to take me? I work for the crown.”
“Tsk, everything has a price. Yours shouldn’t be too much.” Sir Varus said nonchalantly as he tapped the slave markings on her wrist.
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Her friends. Cheril. Milda. Ja. Her parents. She would never see them again, and she never even got to say goodbye. What would they think happened to her?
“Sir,” she said with all her might, which only resulted in a barely audible whisper. “Sir, I didn’t break your things. It was Advisor Sweren.”
Sir Varus laughed.
“Do you think I am a fool, to believe your word over that of a man with status? I was not born yesterday; I know a thief when I see one.”
“Ple- Please believe me. I was trying to help. They wanted your papers. The ones with the information to save the world, and I made a mistake. I will admit it; I made a mistake. I thought I could give it to them for money because I need a way to remember my past and my family. I would have gotten that from a carving a merchant would have made for me. But at the last moment... I didn’t want to. They would have used your technology for money and power and whatever else those kinds of people want. You were different; you said that you wanted to help people. That is why I tried to lie to them by leading them to the chest. I looked through your chest last mur and thought it was full of less important material. There were no maps, diagrams, or pages filled with numbers, like those on your desk. I can’t read - so I wasn’t sure - but it was better than giving them the science papers. I thought that by giving them the good-looking paper, they would be sort of satisfied in thinking that I was just a dumb servant who misunderstood you and give me a beating… but I changed my plan too late. Advisor Sweren ripped the paper and went into a rage when he realized he couldn’t use your books and papers anyway.”
For a second, it felt as if Sir Varus believed her. There was sympathy in his eyes. An acknowledgement that he understood what happened. But that was only for a second. His eyes shifted to the stack of papers on his table. And then to his chest. And then back to Nira, and they were filled with contempt again.
“Nice try, whore. I didn’t trust you from the second I saw you, and I still don’t. Now be a good girl and stay quiet until your wounds heal.”
That was her last shot. Her one hope. She couldn’t run. She couldn’t fight back. She had no options left. He had refused to believe her. This was it. The end.