1 Prologue

(y/n) P.O.V. 1st person

Eyes down, I drag my feet as I return to the mansion with food for my Lord's dinner. My feet move quickly, not wanting to be even a second late. He's a very impatient man. Something mushy hits my foot: an apple core. A child snatches it quickly. Hungrily, he gnaws what nourishment he can out of the trash, too poor to afford such luxury. The merchant who threw the trash is glad to be rid of a possible thief. Instead, he returns to shouting out about his goods, seeking a more promising customer. My mind pulls me back to when I also faced such desperate times. Back when I had resorted to thievery and begging for a scrap of food.

Grouped together in a cage, our cramped bodies pressing up against each other, the air was filled with despair. Tears were shed in silence and shackles. No one even dared to dream of escape, though none of us had even tasted the lifestyle that would root those thoughts in our minds. We simply knew it was hopeless. No one escaped.

My stomach growled, and being young I was selfish and dumb. Crying out for a bit of food they threw a scrap at me: an apple core. Told me to shut up as I sucked on the fruit. I remember I was about ten or so, no older. Though I can't remember for sure now. I had faced all kinds of pains, but nothing compared to what I was about to face.

We were lead on one long chain, our heads dropping, chains clanking in the silence. We were like machines. Nothing more. But we'd received quite the beating on our way to this place. I couldn't see, but I could hear the crowds outside as we were lined into cages. These ones less cramped, but more secure. A few merchants cycled through, trading payments and selecting a few of us to go first.

We were led up the stairs by the same chains as before, until we stood on a wide stage and could see the crowd of shouting people below us. At the auction they stripped me of my clothes. I stood there in front of the crowd as they examined me. It was loud and scary, hands shooting up left and right. Their words mixed together in the thoughts in my mind, which were much louder than even this. I was so stuck in my thoughts. Tears poured down my cheeks, but I held myself together. 'You deserve this. You know you do'.

I'm brought back to reality as I hurry to the household. Quickly, I prepare a simple meal for Lord Jamil, carrying it over to the desk he's working at. He's slumped back in a comfortable desk, quill in hand as his eyes gloss over some scrolls. Several women dressed in colorful, skimpy outfits massage his back, arms, and shoulders. Though his expression shows he's bored, and that he doesn't seem to even notice their touch. A few women move out of the way as I approach him, many hesitantly. I bow my head to the master. "Master, would you like something to eat?"

He pauses his work to look up at me and smile, "Thanks (y/n)! That'll be corn in your dinner tonight!" I'm not surprised at his usual addition of corn for a good job. Though I can't say I like it. I step towards him and my feet echo against the floor. I go to place it down in front of him when I trip on my own feet. Everything slows down as I spill the meal across the table. It stains his clothes and the women jump back. I can see his eyes narrow, and he shoves the chair back, storming around the table and towards me. I cower, my hands over my head as he smacks me. Knocking me to the ground he kicks me hard, "You're useless!" My heart thumps as I remember those same words playing in my head, a target he had hit from day one. The young master was about thirteen at the time and had learned many tricks on how to use slaves.

"This is your new slave, it's name is (y/n)." They told him as they brought me to him. I was trembling on the ground in front of him, biting down on the gag between my lips. I couldn't move with these chains on my wrists or my feet. I stared up at him fearfully, what kind of man was this who had bought me? Or in truth has been given me. The look on his face was a smile, but it was empty of emotion, only absorbed by selfishness. It had a flavor of terror to it that anyone would have noticed. Even those driven by his power.

"(y/n)..." he said to himself as he stifled a laugh. He brought his hand down, twirling a lock of (h/c) in his fingers. Jamil brought his sword up to my lips and poked at my face as he got used to my reactions. I whimpered, and flinched back with each contact. That only made him continue. Poking fun at my weak points as he called out each flaw and cut into me.

Jamil continued to shout at me as I was paralyzed. My mind connected what was happening to the awful memories I had experienced here. Each attack triggers a specific memory. He paused for a moment, and I slowly returned. Lifting me up gently from under my arms, I felt confused, before he pressed my back up against the wall. "Hmmm. Well, maybe you're not completely useless..." he smirked. A hand slipped down and grabbed my hip roughly. "You've grown very nicely since I first got you, maybe you weren't a waste after all." His fingers traced my form and then trailed up squeezing my breast. He muttered something under his breath I couldn't understand before releasing me and stepping away.

I had been a slave here for almost eight years, our Lord being twenty-one, we had both grown much since then. Though I was older than some of the others when I started out, I could barely remember feeling anything more than despair and fear. Happiness had long left even before I was captured by slave merchants.

I was lucky to grow up in a happy home. Each day was lived to the fullest, my parents and I. We managed to avoid the plagues and famine and were never faced with worry. I generated my own sorrows; only I was to blame for the trouble we faced. It hurts to remember the pains I put them through. I didn't need them and grew to hate them, not afraid to let them know. I was always dragging us into trouble.

One day... they left. While I was out and about without a care in the world they got up, packed their things, and left. I thought it was a joke, but… they never came back. For the first time in my life, I was completely alone. Even our neighbors shunned me. No one would help me, how could they after all I had caused? I lived on the streets and resulted in stealing and begging for food. I looked around for work, but no one would accept a small child, especially one as selfish and lazy as me. That is except slave merchants.

One morning while exhausted, I lied down in an alleyway hoping to not be found. I collapsed, falling asleep not long later. When I awoke I was in chains with a group of others, it must've happened in my sleep. Was this my punishment?

As he took it out on me, all my mistakes were coming back to me as I wondered why it had come to this. I knew that no one was on my side. No one would look for me, and no one would care. Many of them, I'm sure, wish I was dead. But this might be worse.