Bound and Broken

- 8 -

Myla’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t be too sure what had caused my breakdown that night, but seeing Devra and the other pleasure slaves grow so concerned over me just seemed to snap my mind back into a place that I hadn’t been for many years. Something about the way they looked at me with this amalgam of pity and care just made my heart ache for the comforts of times long gone.

The last thing I recalled from that conversation was Devra’s warm arms hoisting me up from the floor as my eyes blurred with tears. I could still smell Mistress’s perfumed oil on his skin, which nearly sickened me to my core, but it was cut by the warm scent of spice that lingered in his hair. I buried my face in his neck and swore that I could feel his heartbeat racing faster, but I must have been mistaken. Gods above, I was a wreck.

I didn’t remember falling asleep that night, but I did remember waking the following day to the soft sounds of birds perched on the window of my and Ari’s shared sleeping chamber. The sun was still low in the sky, barely peeking up over the hills of pasture beyond the walls. It was still too early even for the rooster’s crow, so I silently slipped out of bed and prepared myself for the day. 

My first task would be the morning’s breakfast for the four of us. After donning a simple cotton dress and brushing my auburn curls into a loose braid, I was decent enough to head down to the kitchens. Devra had already introduced me to some of the kitchen staff, and that bit of comfort was a great relief for my current anxieties. Soldiers on their morning rounds barely paid me any mind, though I did catch the off one staring a bit too long as I moved quickly down the cold stone hallway. I tried my best to keep out of sight of His Majesty’s pages and scullery maids, and when I finally rounded on the castle’s kitchens, I knocked quickly on the door of the already bustling room.

The sounds of cookery clanging and fires roaring to life brought back the tiniest memory of accompanying my mother on her morning rounds of our kitchens. A small smile crept over my lips at the thought, and my distraction almost cost me my balance as the door swung open with great speed.

“An’ I don’t care were the lot of ye to set the damn thing ablaze!” Shouted the tall and rather portly man that came bursting out through the doorway. “To hell with this castle, to hell with Her Majesty’s damned special orders!” His round features were red with sweat and anger, and I could see a fresh cut on his left hand that he clutched close to his chest, droplets of it catching and staining his already dingy cook’s apron. 

His grey eyes fell on me, and his anger seemed to mount even higher. “An’ you!” The cook shoved one giant finger right in my face, waggling it back and forth with frustration. “You get out of ma way ‘fore I make you!”

There was no resistance from me. I threw up both of my hands in shock and quickly sidestepped out of his path of destruction. I could hear guards clattering to attention and making their way down in this direction from down the hall. All I could do at that point was duck into the kitchen and close the door behind me. That was when I was met face-to-face with the slender form of the young male cook Devra knew. 

“Brogan,” I said, smiling at the man and offering a small wave as I ducked around one of the maids bringing in a fresh basket of eggs from the coops. He was a man who appeared to be around thirty if I was seeing him correctly. “What was all that about?” His mop of shaggy brown hair was in a constant state of disarray, and his freckled face was thin but welcoming. 

The cook seemed genuinely surprised to see me, even a bit flustered. “Miss Myla,” he said with that polite and charming drawl of his. “Angus managed to nick himself already,” he sighed.”

I hummed in reply, knowing well the pain that cooking injuries could inflict. “Pity he’s walked off,” I said with a laugh. “He seems such a positive man. I would have liked a morning chat.” 

That made the cook laugh, and he shrugged his shoulders carelessly while a small girl moved quick as a whip behind him with a large slab of bacon. Brogan’s eyes darted to the door again and then back to me. “No Devra this morning?” He asked, turning back to the potatoes that he was seasoning in the hot skillet. 

Disappointment glimmered in his eyes when I shook my head in reply. It was an unspoken secret amongst the staff that Brogan fancied Devra. His hair fell into his eyes as he nodded towards the door with a sigh. “Apologies,” he said. “You should not have had to see that.”

My hand raised to stay his apology, and I ducked out of the way yet again to allow one of His Majesty’s pages to pass by with a decanter of wine. Something flared in my periphery about the young boy; it almost felt like the barest traces of magic that had been covered up, but that couldn’t be right. My instincts had been severely dampened since this blasted court affixed my collar around my neck.

My thoughts halted once the wafting smell of bacon hit my nose, and I looked back over to Brogan with a forced smile. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” I replied softly, stepping back as another of the staff rushed by with loaves of freshly baked bread. “I would help if I could,” I offered.

“No, no,” Brogan countered. “Wouldn’t want Her Majesty to catch wind of that,” he said with a wink. “I know why you’re here, an’ I’ve already got a basket made up.” He was genial, by all means, but now was very clearly not a time to be social, and I was quite aware of that fact. 

So as he looked me over with a bit of a wink, he nodded again to the woven basket that sat atop one of the many storage barrels along the wall. I could see the neck of a bottle of wine peeking out and was already grateful for whatever else it might hold. “Thank you, Brogan,” I said, grabbing the basket and backing up towards the door again. “I’ll stop by later if I can.”

“Please do,” he replied with a smile that was both inviting and already tired from the heat. “Inform Devra that I’ll have the usual ready for Her Majesty this evening.”

I passed a nod of acknowledgment his way and tucked the basket closer to my chest as I turned back out the door. It was all I could do not to smile at the thought of yet another companion in the castle as I made my way back up the stairs to our chambers. It felt relieving to find another ally in these strange walls, right under the nose of my natural-born enemies. While I understood that I wouldn’t ever truly feel comfortable here, a few strong supporters in my corner might just help keep me alive. 

By the time I arrived back in our chambers, Ari and Miri were already awake and preparing themselves for their morning appointment with the Prince. Miri was standing behind Ari, nimble fingers twisting the woman’s raven locks into pretty braids as she painted her lips with the stained beeswax that nobility seemed to favor. Rouge carefully brushed on her cheeks gave her angular features a softer and more submissive look, which I’m sure was all in the plan. 

I could see Miri’s lips moving in the mirror, but he spoke too low for me to hear the words. Ari’s eyes met mine in the glass, and I cleared my throat to announce my entry. “Breakfast,” I said, gently raising the woven basket up for them to see.

“Finally,” Miri said with a forced laugh. His eyes darted from mine to the room he shared with Devra, leading me to believe that my friend had been worried when I slipped out unnoticed this morning. “I was beginning to think that someone had spirited you away, Myla.” The humor struck me as off, and I was about to speak up to question it when the door to the secondary sleeping chambers opened. 

Devra exited first with his head tilted forward in a respectful bow. There was a glint of metal that caught my eye, and I saw that he was already wearing his collar for the day. Last night, Devra had told me that his morning was to be a later one, but that clearly changed. Ari caught my arm when I moved towards him and instead silently motioned for me to bow my head as well. I didn’t realize why until Her Majesty emerged from the room, trailing behind the man with this arrogant sense of self-serving importance that oozed into her every movement. 

“Your Majesty,” Ari said, standing from the vanity to properly curtsey. “Your dress is exquisite, as always.”

Queen Olivette responded with a barely noticeable rise of her chin before turning her attention to me. I dropped my eyes quickly, bending at my knees in a curtsey before I heard the quick clack of her heels on the wood flooring. My breath caught as I waited for her to strike me, but an impact never came. Instead, I felt the sharp prick of her filed nails under my chin as the Queen forced my eyes up to meet hers. 

“You would do well to avoid wandering the halls, little one,” the Queen sneered at me. Her saccharine-sweet tone revealed far more than her words ever could. The walls had ears, and all gossip made its way back to her. “I heard tell that my darling son had to step in to keep one of our newer guards from making a mess of things.” Her nails trailed along my chin and made me shudder.

My cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink as I thought of his Highness and what he had said to me. The heightened tension of my suppressed magic made me far more sensitive to touch and suggestion than I previously was, so even that brief interaction with him had left me regrettably flustered. “Your Majesty,” I stammered. Over her shoulder, I could see Devra tense and look away from the scene. No doubt she had properly chastised him, for God only knows what. “I-”

“Of course,” the Queen interrupted me, her voice dipping into a falsetto of false pretenses and perceived kindness. “You are so very grateful.” Her smile widened, predatory and hungry as though she would willingly tear out my throat should the opportunity arise. “That’s why I’ve arranged for you to pay your respects and show your appreciation, my dear.”

My eyes widened, and my mouth snapped shut in flustered disbelief. A glance to Ari and Miri confirmed that even they had no knowledge of this schedule change, as both of their mouths gaped in shock. Devra’s shoulders slumped, and I knew then that it was likely not only our mornings that were altered. He and I were likely not to get our time alone this evening. And something in me just couldn’t help but believe that the Queen had something to do with that. 

Queen Olivette raised a brow at me, clearly waiting for my response. “Of course,” I said numbly. A tight squeeze of her hand on my chin urged me on, and I felt the unmistakable drop of anxiety fall in my gut. “I would be honored to show my appreciation.” The words felt hollow as they left my lips, though that seemed only to please her Majesty more. 

“Good,” she said, finally letting my face go and returning to Devra’s side. “I shall send a page up to escort you within the hour,” the Queen added, pausing in the doorway to look me over. “Do your best to look presentable, won’t you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered, dropping my eyes back to the floor once more. She hummed in approval once more and shared a few parting words with Miri before taking her leave with Devra in tow. What started as such a pleasant morning had already quickly turned dark and grim. What did the Prince have in store for me?