“Hey, you. Put this on and follow me.”
The mean and deafening yell of the maidservant, who barged into my room, jerked me out of my thoughts. She glared hard at me, throwing the worn-out sack clothes at me.
“Where… Where am I going to?” I asked stuttering. Trust me, I regretted asking her this question almost immediately because with the way she stared at me, I knew for a fact that her answer would be brutal.
Scoffing, she replied. “Our dear priiincesss Rachel, What makes you think that a slave like you is entitled to ask me that question?” She emphasized on the “princess” while stretching the syllables.
I needed no one to tell me that I shouldn’t bother asking another question. Thankfully, the ointment Rhoda had sent earlier relieved the pain I was feeling from the wounds on my feet
