2 And the Deal Gets Worse

Braelyn remained quiet as she was taken to the Port of Tariq, and she continued her vow of silence once they had arrived. She was greeted by Earl Rajashekar, but she still didn’t say a word as they boarded the exquisite long boat with its geometric carvings and sea serpent figurehead. The earl’s men shoved her below deck where numerous enslaved men rowed to the aggravatingly steady beat of a drum. Braelyn tried to be thankful that she was restrained against a post and not among the rowers, but that drum quickly got on her nerves.

The whole three-week-long voyage felt like three months to Braelyn and she refuse to utter a word for all of it. But she had to admit that she wanted to scream for joy once they finally docked at a port in Arderé. It was a beautiful country of gold and adobe buildings, but she primarily found it intimidating considering she had never even left Tariq before. Time moved slowly as she waited to disembark and then she was forced to wait longer on the docks until Rajashekar and his men finally decided to head to his estate. While some of the men were allowed to ride in coaches or carriages or on horses, Braelyn was forced to walk with her hands tied to the back of the carriage which held all the luggage.

For a short while, Braelyn gazed upon the tall buildings with amber windows and the sky-riding palm trees which surrounded them until she caught the glances of the people of Rivas on the streets. It seemed as though they all stared at her and she couldn’t bear it. For the next hour, Braelyn kept her head down and watched her sandals grow dusty from the dirt streets until they finally arrived at the earl’s massive mansion with its stone pillars, elaborate friezes, and decorative, shapely statues.

Braelyn was led inside with the earl and together they stood in the grand foyer among the marble floor and stone columns. She began to feel more and more daunted by her surroundings each minute. At this point, her silence was involuntary and she wasn’t sure when she would be able to speak again.

“Welcome home, my Lord,” said a finely-dressed dwarf who approached the earl. “I trust your journey was productive and successful.”

“Very much so, Silas,” Rajashekar replied as he handed the dwarf his cloak and staff. “Thank you. Please see to it that my belongings are taken care of and send Thea to my study.”

“Right away, my Lord.”

“Come with me, Braelyn.”

Rajashekar hardly looked at Braelyn as he led her away to his study. Braelyn swallowed her heart back down to her chest as she glanced around the study to take in the silver candelabras, soapstone statues, and quilted tapestries. She absolutely felt out of her league in this refined establishment. The still, perfumed air was thick between her and the earl as he took his seat behind his oak desk and Braelyn stood motionless in front of it. After a long moment of chilly silence, the earl finally spoke up.

“Thea is the housekeeper of Firebrush Manor; she will be teaching you the ways of the estate, and showing you the tasks for which you will be responsible. Any questions or concerns you may have you can take up with her.”

“How long will I be serving here?” Braelyn asked. It felt odd to speak after holding her tongue for so long.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m here to work off a debt. How long will that take?”

“Well, I spent quite a fortune on your sister,” said Rajashekar. “At the rate of which servants are paid in this country, I would be impressed if you lived long enough to pay it off.”

Braelyn’s eyes grew wide. “You mean to tell me that you never intend to send me back home?”

“Well, no one can ever know for certain what the future holds. Perhaps the likelihood will increase with the quality of your work.”

Here, a blue-skinned ogre stepped into the room. “You summoned for me, my Lord?” she asked with a deep voice.

“Thea, yes I did,” Rajashekar addressed. “I would like you to meet the newest member of the staff, Braelyn of Tariq. She will be working in your charge for quite a while. Please see to it that she gets settled in, dressed in appropriate attire, and put to work as soon as possible.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Thea said with a curtsy. “Follow me, Braelyn.”

Braelyn swallowed a scream of rage and forced her feet to follow Thea throughout the lavish mansion. The housekeeper led her beneath the manor to the servants’ quarters and all the while Braelyn failed to pay much attention to the ogre who yammered on about the rules, regulations, and routines of Firebrush Manor. She hardly noticed the copious adornments, the fine quality of the structure, or even the abundance of servants keeping the residence looking polished and elegant. All Braelyn could focus on was the fact that she would never return to Tariq. This entire time she had believed the whole, horrible misadventure would take at most a few years, but now it was clear that she would never see her mother or sister again. She would be a slave under the man who had killed her fiancé for the rest of her life. It all sank in slowly for her, and the more the realization of her predicament became apparent, the more she felt the need to do something about it.

“Are you listening to me?” Thea snapped.

Braelyn jolted to attention. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What did I just say?”

Thea had her. Braelyn glanced into the tiny, empty room at which they had stopped. “This is where I’ll be sleeping.”

“And?”

Braelyn had nothing else but wasn’t sure that she should confess it.

“Your belongings should be here soon and you’re to meet me at the laundry room once you’re cleaned up, dressed nicely, and finished unpacking.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Braelyn answered. “Where’s the laundry room?”

“Had you been listening you’d know, now wouldn’t you? It appears you’ll have to figure that out on your own.”

With that, Thea walked away. Braelyn entered her room and closed the door to be sure she was alone as she glanced around at her new dwelling. She was amazed that there existed in this world rooms which were smaller than hers in Tariq. And in a vast mansion, nonetheless. She had a small bed, a lopsided furnace, a creaky dresser, and a modest wardrobe, all of which made her regret not packing her chest of treasured items; items from her childhood, items Mathis had gifted to her, items her mother and sisters had made for her. Now she had nothing from any of them to hold dear, only her memories. Right before Braelyn was about to collapse into tears, there was a knock on her door.

“Yes?” she called.

“I have your belongings here for you.”

Braelyn opened the door and let the servant on the other side drag her bags into her room and leave. She closed the door on him with a heavy sigh through her nose and glanced at the three bags. She might as well get to unpacking even though based on the satin ensemble draped on her bed, she wouldn’t be wearing any of her muslin rags anymore. She knelt at the first sack and pulled out her clothes which she simply tossed on the floor beside her when something caught her eye: a book. Slowly, Braelyn lifted the book from her bag and gazed at the title: The Fairy Circle. Her favorite book. Her mother had read this book to her and her sisters when they were children and had taught them how to read and write with it. She had intended to do the same with the children she had planned to have with Mathis. Her mother must’ve placed it in her bag without her knowing. She held the book to her chest and sobbed.

“I’m going to miss you all so much.”

Braelyn couldn’t bear it, she had to do something about this. She jumped to her feet and rushed back to the earl’s study where he appeared to be communing with another noble of Rivas.

“Sir,” said Braelyn to the utter shock of the noble. “I require a word with you.”

“You will have to excuse her,” Rajashekar said to his affluent guest. “She is new and foreign.” He then addressed Braelyn. “You will wait outside for your turn.”

Braelyn figured it was probably in her best interest to comply, so she curtsied and exited the study. It seemed to take forever for the earl to finish his meeting with his visitor. At long last, the nobleman exited the study with a nasty glare sent her way. Rajashekar soon followed and beckoned Braelyn inside. She anxiously entered but Rajashekar spoke before she had a chance.

“First off, under no circumstances do you enter without my admission. Especially when I’m with a guest. Secondly, you speak when spoken to. Have I made myself absolutely clear about this, Braelyn?”

“Yes, sir. I apologize.”

“Now what is it you want?”

“I was hoping you may be gracious enough to allow me to write to my family.”

“You’re literate?” Rajashekar asked in disbelief. He appeared to loathe this possibility.

“Yes, sir. My mother taught me.”

“Your mother? How?”

“She once worked under a kindly noblewoman, sir.”

The earl hesitated. “I see… yes, I suppose there’s no harm in it. Hand your letters off to Thea.”

“Thank you, sir. You are very kind.”

Braelyn curtsied and left to finish unpacking. While she had hoped to receive this answer from the earl, she couldn’t help but feel suspicious. It appeared to have come somewhat easily… too easily. Of course at the time, she had no real proof that he intended to keep her from writing letters to her family. All she could really do was write the letters and see what came of it. So she finished unpacking, bathed, dressed in the light blue kalasiris dress she was provided, completed her chores and training, and constructed a letter to her mother and Maelyn that night. The next morning, she handed the letter off to Thea and was told that she could expect a response in approximately a month. This was distressing news to learn that she would have to wait so long to hear back from her family, but as long as the earl had nothing sinister planned, she felt fortunate that she would still be able to maintain some semblance of connection with them.

~~~

Meanwhile, Braelyn struggled to adapt to her new lifestyle. While she did feel better about herself wearing soft cashmere, smooth chiffon, shining jewels, and glimmering makeup, the foreign customs of Arderé along with working tirelessly without pay was difficult to adjust to. But at least she had something to look forward to: a letter back from her mother and Maelyn. It was the only hope that truly kept her going. Perhaps if she managed to keep her master happy, he would continue to let her write letters to her family, and maybe even allow her to return to Tariq some day.

One day in the grand laundry room, Braelyn had expressed this thought to another servant who appeared forlorn upon hearing it.

“What is it?” Braelyn asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Brae,” the servant replied. “I can’t bear to keep this from you any longer. I overheard His Lordship tell Miss Thea to simply burn any letters you give her to send to your family and not to bother mailing them out.”

“What?” Braelyn exclaimed. “Why?”

“I’m not sure,” the servant replied. “I didn’t hear him offer any reason.”

“I see,” said Braelyn. She continued to wash the laundry at a slower pace and stared blankly at the beige, marble wall.

“I’m so sorry, Brae. It’s not fair of him to do that to you.”

“Don’t trouble yourself over it,” Braelyn replied. “Perhaps I’ll have a polite, civil discussion about it with him later tonight.”

“Do be careful. You’d be unwise to anger him.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware. I’ve angered him before.”

That night, once her duties were complete, Braelyn found the earl reading in his candlelit drawing room and she tapped on the doorframe to announce her presence. Earl Rajashekar peered up from his reading material.

“Braelyn,” he acknowledged. “How can I help you?”

“I have a question, sir,” Braelyn replied.

“Go on.”

“Why did you tell Miss Thea to burn the letter I wrote to my family?”

“I only said you may write to your family, Braelyn,” Rajashekar answered. “I never promised I’d have your letters sent out.”

Braelyn struggled with her muscles to keep from trembling. There was the catch she had sensed almost a month ago. How did she miss such an obvious loophole?

“Why won’t you allow my letters to be sent out, sir?”

“Because I can’t risk you venturing to plot any escape attempts,” the earl answered.

“You have the ability to read the letters, sir,” Braelyn argued.

“And should you write in some code?”

“We don’t know any code, sir!”

“Well there’s no way for me to know that for certain, now is there?” the earl retorted. “Do you really expect me to take your word for it?”

Braelyn fought to swallow her tears. “So you never intend to let me speak with my family?”

“There’s a chance I may change my mind in the future. Perhaps the possibility will increase with the quality of your work.”

The earl eyed Braelyn with a roguish smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth and she read the guise like her Fairy Circle book.

“Very well.” Braelyn lifted her chin in defiance. “Then I don’t intend to work for you until you change your mind.”

Braelyn watched as the earl’s demeanor violently morphed before her eyes. “Don’t test me, Braelyn,” he growled.

“I agreed to none of this, sir.”

“Well that’s not true, now is it?

“I expected to see my family again! The very least you could do is allow me to remain in contact with them!”

“Until I know I don’t have to worry about your insolence anymore, I won’t. And this blatant act of insubordination won’t help either of us.”

“I believe I’ve made myself clear, sir. Until I can write to my family, I won’t be doing any work around here.”

“You think so, do you?” Rajashekar motioned his sentries in. “I suppose we’ll see about that.”

The sentries snatched Braelyn by her arms and hauled her out of the room.

“What?” Braelyn called. “What are you doing?”

“I warned you not to test me, but you insist on learning the hard way.”

The sentries led Braelyn kicking and screaming to the rear courtyard of Firebrush Manor which was alight with bowls of fire. There she was flogged and left shackled to a peg in the ground for the rest of the night. For a little over a week, there was a new routine where one of Rajashekar’s servants would exit the mansion and ask Braelyn something along the lines of, “Do you plan to go back to work now?” or, “Do you feel like working?” about five times a day and each time Braelyn’s answer was, “No.” At which point she was flogged again and left among the pink rose bushes and sculpted hedges of the garden — an alluring scene that lost its elegance in Braelyn’s misery just as the roses lost their fragrance in the smoke from the fires. When it had grown apparent that she was too weak to speak, Braelyn was carried back inside where she spent another week recovering. Once she could walk and talk again, Earl Rajashekar summoned her to his drawing room where he sat reading.

“Ah, Braelyn!” he called. “It appears you are well enough to work again. This is good news, indeed.”

“Indeed,” Braelyn echoed.

“Wonderful, you’re back in the laundry room tomorrow morning.”

“Splendid,” said Braelyn. “I shall love to watch everyone wash your linens.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Forgive me, but I have yet to receive word that I shall be allowed to keep in touch with my family back in Alaric.”

“That would be because I have yet to give such word.”

“Oh, well then I shall enjoy watching the others work in the laundry room. Am I dismissed?”

“In a sense.” Rajashekar motioned for the sentries who stood just outside the sitting room. They approached Braelyn and snatched her by the arms to haul her back out to the rear courtyard.

“You intend to do this all over again?” Braelyn asked.

“You only have yourself to blame,” the earl answered.

The sentries began dragging Braelyn away, but she fought them. “Wait, wait, wait, you win! You win, I concede! I’ll return to work tomorrow.” The sentries released her.

“Glad to hear it,” Rajashekar replied. “In that case, you are dismissed.”

Braelyn curtsied and left the earl’s presence. However, she did not return to work the following day as promised. She did exactly as she first said and watched the others work, which was slightly awkward. Some of the servants felt bold enough to voice their opinions about the matter. Some understood why she was doing what she was doing while others thought she was being foolish. Frankly, Braelyn didn’t care about the opinions of others; none of this concerned them.

Later that night, Braelyn sat reading her Fairy Circle book in her room after a long day of no work, where she enjoyed being able feel the parchment with hands that weren’t dry and cracked from hours of soaking in soapy water. Soon, a knock came on her door. When she answered it, she found Thea on the other side.

“The earl wishes to speak with you.”

Braelyn drew in a deep breath. “Very well. Where?”

“He’s in his chambers.” With that, Thea left.

Braelyn found it odd that Thea was the one to summon her, but she immediately made her way to Rajashekar’s chambers without questioning it out loud. The housekeeper must’ve just come from reporting Braelyn to him. Upon that conclusion, Braelyn prepared herself for several more days of flogging since she was more than ready to refuse the earl again. She knocked on his door and stepped inside once a servant answered.

“There she is,” said the earl. “Leave us.”

Braelyn couldn’t help the fact that this instruction set her on edge. The earl never minded before that servants were present during their discussions. In fact, shouldn’t he want them around so that he could motion them to take her away in case she refused to obey him again? Or maybe this was going to be a different kind of discussion — one where he submitted to her demands and he didn’t want any of the servants to witness it? This may explain Thea being the one to come for Braelyn; Rajashekar may have discussed the matter with her and told her to send off any letters Braelyn writes.

“I’m told you still refuse to work,” said the earl, snapping Braelyn from her thoughts. He avoided looking at her as he slowly removed his jewelry as he spoke. “After everything.”

“You’ve been told right,” Braelyn replied. She glanced around the earl’s brightly-colored chambers with its light blue drapes and silver-trimmed furniture. “I demand to be able to communicate with my family.”

“You ‘demand,’ do you?” The earl slapped some perfume onto his brawny neck.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know who gives the demands on this estate?” Braelyn didn’t answer. “It is not a difficult question, and there is only one answer.” Braelyn remained silent. “It’s me, Braelyn! I am the master of this estate! I am the only person who makes the demands on these grounds, and anyone who thinks for even a second that they can give demands around here will find themselves in a special class of Hell rather quickly! Have I made myself quite clear?”

Braelyn swallowed her panic and held her ground impressively. “I demand to be able to communicate with my family.”

Earl Rajashekar had enough. He stormed up to Braelyn, snatched her by her wrist, and violently tossed her onto his cotton bed. Now she understood why the earl told everyone to leave his chamber, why she was even summoned there in the first place. If she were to be completely honest with herself, she had known all along, she was simply too afraid to face and acknowledge it.

Outside the chamber doors, the sentries at guard did all they could to block out Braelyn’s calls for help. All who were about to walk by quickly turned and walked away once they heard her cries for the earl to stop, to please get off her, to let her go. It was a relief to everyone the moment the screams ended and it was all over.

~~~

Braelyn returned to her chores after that night, and given her new position on the estate, she was forced to undergo extensive beauty treatments in oils, myrrh, and cosmetics. Her hair and nails were trimmed, her skin was scrubbed, and she was only allowed to be dressed in silk, lace, and sheer attire. Her work around the manor was to be kept light and easy, and every once in a while when a simple trip to the grocery was required, she was sent out with a number of Rajashekar’s other favorite females to shop. This last task was put on hold when it was learned that Braelyn was with child and on Crest 8, 365 Ravan of Rivas was born. Even though Ravan had Rajashekar’s green eyes and black hair, Braelyn knew that part of herself was in there somewhere and she couldn’t help but feel love for her son despite the manner in which he was brought into this world. As Ravan grew, Braelyn recognized her pointed nose, facial structure, and some of her personality in him, and it felt good to have some visual reassurances that he was her son.

All the while, Braelyn tried to keep Ravan close to her and sheltered him from the horrors of their predicament. She was a servant under a nobleman, not the slave to a monster. Earl Rajashekar was not Ravan’s father, his father was a brave warrior off fighting terrible villains. She tried to keep him away from his older half-brothers who enjoyed antagonizing him at every chance they found, and for the most part, she did well in this. Every night, she would read to Ravan from her Fairy Circle book and taught him to read and write from it like her mother had done for her. She also refused to cry around Ravan, no matter how bad matters became for her. Under no circumstances would Ravan learn the truth if she could help it.

Despite her change in circumstances, which to Earl Rajashekar’s delight also changed her behavior, Braelyn never stopped keeping an eye out for an opening to freedom. One afternoon during Ravan’s twelfth year, opportunity opened its door to her. During the high hours of noon, Braelyn picked fruit from the orchard in Rajashekar’s rear courtyard while Ravan gathered berries from the adjacent bushes. Meanwhile the earl’s two sons practiced swordplay among the sculpted hedges when they caught sight of Ravan.

“Ravan!” called the eldest. “Come here!”

Ravan hesitated, but knew he had to obey. He set his basket down and approached the boys.

“Yes, sir?” Ravan asked.

“Know any swordplay?” asked the same boy.

“No, sir.”

“Know any combat at all?” asked the second boy.

“No, sir. I’ve never been taught.”

The two boys giggled.

“Perhaps today is a fine time to learn,” said the first boy.

“Let’s teach him jousting,” said the second as he picked up a couple sticks.

“Jousting! That’s perfect! Here Ravan, take this and stand over there.”

Braelyn lifted her head for a moment to check on Ravan and that’s when she noticed he was missing. Her eyes darted about the courtyard and she spotted her son with his half-brothers preparing to joust. She was relieved to catch him in time.

“Ravan, sweetheart!” she gently called, and the boys’ attentions switched to her. “His Lordship is going to want those berries soon, let’s make haste.”

“Right away, Mother,” Ravan replied, and he handed the stick back to the younger boy. “Pardon me, sirs. I must return to work.”

“But of course,” said the older boy with an impish grin. “Perhaps another time then.”

Moments later, Thea approached Braelyn.

“The kitchen staff require a trip to the market, Brae. You may continue that later.”

“Might I take my son this time?” Braelyn asked as she lifted her basket from the ground.

“You ask that every time and the answer is always the same,” Thea replied as she walked away. “Step lively now, the ladies will be leaving in five.”

Braelyn approached Ravan. “Better bring those berries inside, Sweetheart. I’m sure the kitchen staff require a hand.”

Braelyn despised leaving the estate without bringing Ravan with her. She knew that the earl’s sons saw this as the perfect opportunity to antagonize Ravan, and she was helpless to do anything about it. It didn’t help that the servants with whom she would shop enjoyed time away from the manor, so they tended to not share her need to rush. To make matters worse, a moment came in the middle of their shopping when they were severely interrupted.

“Make way for the Count of Rivas! Make way!”

All Rivans were forced to pause in their busy schedules and vacate the streets to let the count pass on his litter without hindrance. Everyone knelt and at least appeared to patiently wait as he made his way through town.

“I swear he does this every Auroday,” said the servant beside Braelyn.

“You’ve noticed Auroday specifically?” Braelyn asked. “I haven’t recognized any pattern.”

“Yes, it’s the busiest day of the week,” the servant clarified. “All the merchants with quality merchandise are selling today.”

Before Braelyn could reply, she noticed the count stop his caravan and approach a random woman from the crowd. After some words, the woman left with the count and they continued on their way.

“Ah, it appears he picked himself up another lovely servant,” said the woman behind Braelyn.

“I wonder why he never pays us any attention,” Braelyn wondered aloud.

“I imagine he wants to avoid any issues with the earl,” another servant replied as they all returned to shopping.

“That couldn’t be the reason,” a different servant argued. “The woman he just picked up belongs to the duke.”

“She did appear dressed finer than us.”

“You don’t suppose the duke will be upset that the count picked up one of his servants without consulting with him first?” Braelyn asked.

“I imagine there’s a reasonable explanation of some sort. Perhaps he and the duke are well acquainted. Of course he must contact the duke to make him aware either way, perhaps he makes an offer in his correspondence.”

Braelyn’s eagerness to return to Firebrush Manor was now replaced with new thoughts: the possibility of being purchased from someone else and not having to serve under Rajashekar. She would have to plan this carefully so that it wasn’t too obvious what she was trying to do. Come Hell or high water, Braelyn was going to get the Count of Rivas to notice her and whisk her away to his estate, and she would be free of Earl Rajashekar of Rivas forever.

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