Bound and Broken

- 3 -

Myla's P.O.V.

The cold water stung as it hit my still healing wounds, but the salve presented helped to soothe and dull the deeper lingering pain. “Thank you,” I said to Devra as he helped me to stand and exit the tub. I could only imagine the trials that I would have faced had those two women still been set to help me. “I doubt anyone else would have helped with my back.” 

I was surprised when he turned his back, allowing me a modicum of privacy to dress in the simple clothes provided. “Mistress has asked me to escort you to her when you’re dressed,” Devra said, though something else lingered in his tone. I couldn’t quite feel if it was fear or what. Perhaps disappointment?

I slipped the loose cotton tunic over my head, leaving the lacing untied slightly at the scooped neck. The beige color was lighter than I was used to wearing, but I didn’t get to choose that anymore now, did I? In the pile was a dark brown skirt, which tied tightly at my natural waist, and a pair of worn cloth slippers completed the drab ensemble. 

My hand rose to my neck, fingers running lightly over my pulse as I let out a sigh. When the Queen purchased me, she’d taken the silver locket I had tucked into my clothing. And not having that little piece of self-identification left me feeling very hollow. I heaved a deep breath and closed my eyes, turning back to face the man as I swept my damp auburn locks forward over my shoulder. “Alright,” I said, starting to twist the wet hair into a quick plait. “Lead the way.”

Hearing that I was decent, Devra turned to make eye contact with me, and I saw him pause. Judging by his reaction, he hadn’t known what to expect when I was fully cleaned up. I moved my hair and tucked it behind my ear once I was done braiding and I saw his gaze flick up to follow my fingers. And then I saw the confusion as his eyes shifted to my forehead.

My hard-set jaw clenched as I swallowed the anger bubbling up in my chest. “It’s a seal,” I said to him. 

“For what, though?” Devra’s brow furrowed and he held an arm out to beckon me towards the side entrance near the stables. 

As we walked, I had to hold up the hem of my skirts to keep from tripping. I contemplated the question, considering the possible outcomes of telling this one man about my magic. But when his eyes met mine again as he held open a door for me, they pleaded for an answer. “For my magic,” I finally answered. “The carvings keep my abilities inhibited until the household can provide a binding implement.”

“I see,” was his only reply as we entered into the main hall of the estate. From far behind I could hear the metal portcullis close over the main entryway, and with it closed all hope in my mind that I might be able to find a way out of here. If I truly focused, I could have even heard the locking of the side entrance after our entry, but I didn’t quite want that distress in my life just yet.

Devra led me through the ornate and pristine foyer. Our path branched into three hallways, and he turned down one without even pausing to look at his surroundings. A decade of servitude would do that to you, I supposed. As we walked, I could see so many servants buzzing around; some with trays of food, others with baskets of food or baskets of laundry. But one thing that stood out to me was the overabundance of female servants. It seemed to be that there were considerably more females than males working for the royal family. 

Eventually, Devra and I came to a stop outside of a large dark wooden door with golden inlaid etchings. He let his hand rest on the doorknob, only to look back at me and offer an apologetic smile. Before I could respond, he was knocking on the door with his free hand.

Only after we heard the soft “Enter.” come from the other side did he open the door. Before us, Queen Olivette was lounging on a chaise in the center of a study. One full wall was lined floor to ceiling with shelves packed full of books. So many more than I’d seen in any of my travels, and so many more than I'd ever been permitted to read before in my life. 

I was struck so deeply with awe and wonder at the splendor and the decadence of my surroundings that I’d, unfortunately, made the faux pas of not hearing the Queen calling for my attention. 

“Girl!” The Queen snapped, barely hiding the amusement in her smile. It must have been a delight seeing the daughter of a warring King so enamored by simple books. My eyes met hers, and I held my hands tightly in front of me. In my periphery I could see Devran kneeling in the corner, sitting with his back straight and his hands resting still on his thighs. The posture was familiar to me, and heat rose in my chest seeing him in such a submissive stance.

My attention refocused on the Queen, the flush of my cheeks likely betraying the embarrassment I tried to hide. Hands clasped firmly in front of me, I bowed once again in apology. “Sincerest apologies, Madam.” Was all I dared speak. The turn of phrase had me silently shaking, and I realized my error immediately. 

As I rose back up to my full height, I kept my eyes downcast to avoid any further infractions. Already, I could feel that I’d severely injured my reputation and my standing in the Queen’s service. There was no telling what job she had assigned for me to do, or what would be done to me by others if I were deemed so defiant.

The Queen snickered, rising to her feet in an elaborate lounging gown of fine silk. The billowing yards of fabric draped over her slight form artfully, and I knew that she had orchestrated this likely after relieving Devra of his duties. Before she spoke again, I heard the soft click of heels on the hard stone floors below us.

“Know your place, girl.” Queen Olivette hissed, taking a quick step towards me only to halt mere paces from my downcast form. “Your father may be King Karsan, but you belong to me now.” Words that stung far deeper than even the harshest lashing. 

“Only those I permit may address me as ‘Madam’.” There was vitriol in her tone, dripping from every syllable with the barely concealed hatred for my father that had me knowing my days might well be numbered. “You are my property and may only address me as ‘Mistress’. Is that clear?” Oh, she was enjoying this, though her expression certainly belied her amusement.

The young man stayed kneeling in the corner, as was his place. Devra hid a wince at the Queen’s sharp tone, only shifting his eyes momentarily to look in her direction to make sure he remained unseen. I bit my cheek as I held back the trembling fear. She looked ready to strike me at any given moment. 

Silence hung in the air heavily, tense and thick as the morning fog. “Well?” The Queen probed once more. “I will ask you again.” Her tone bit and snapped at my nerves, tearing slivers from my confidence with every word. “Is that clear?”

With all the collected poise that I could muster, I bowed deeply at the waist, my braided hair falling forward over my shoulder. “Yes, Mistress.” The words stung, like gritty tin against my tongue with the metallic taste of disrespect. For years now, I had been paying the heavy price of my father’s sins. And looking back up into the Quen’s face, it would seem now that I would do so for the rest of my natural life.

“Good girl,” she crooned, her lips curling into a devious smirk.I was resigned to this fate, even as the Queen circled closer to me. She made no effort to hide the way her eyes raked over my form. When she paused at my back, she pulled up the hem of my top to look at the damage done by the bullwhips the soldiers used on me. Her nails pricked the tender skin, eliciting a faint wince in my shoulders. 

The way her fingers curled around a stray strand of my hair nearly terrified me, but it was nothing compared to the sickness felt when her hands drifted to the neck of my tunic as she stood behind me. Queen Olivette slid her fingers below the thin canvas tunic to grope me firmly. “A fair size. I think you shall do quite nicely,” she said, pulling back from me to instead drift around the room. 

My heart sank. It was common for enemy courts to degrade and embarrass each other’s captives, but even that knowledge didn’t prepare me for the hopelessness that gripped me at my core. “Do you like my library?” She asked me, inching around the room and running her hands over the exposed spines of the books. 

Fearing that I would be reprimanded should I not answer, I bowed my head slightly and gave as polite a compliment as I could muster. “Yes, Mistress. It is truly impressive,” I said. “A splendid repository of knowledge.”

This seemed to please her some, and she paused in her movement to turn and face me full on. “To be honest,” Queen Olivette said with an air of haughty superiority as she casually looked over her crimson painted nails. “I haven’t even read half the books lining my shelves.” Rage rose in my cheeks as I held my gaze on the floor. “I simply enjoy keeping them from my more…” Queen Olivette hummed, letting out a low chuckle. “Intellectual acquaintances.”

With but a snap of the Queen’s fingers, Devra rose to his feet once more and was bowing in front of her awaiting his orders. “Deposit this one in the women’s quarters,” Queen Olivette said. “Assign her to work under Ari and Miri.”

“Yes Mistress,” Devra said obediently, looking down at her feet as he bowed once more. “Right away, Mistress.”

He wordlessly urged me to bow, and I took the direction quickly before we both rose and Devra escorted me from the study and out into the now vacant hall. We walked in silence, slowly making our way down the winding corridors. Devra walked ahead of me, his shoulders rigid with some emotion I couldn't quite place. "Misstress can be..." he started as we entered into a vacant hall. "Thorough."

I could still feel the Queen's grip on me and shuddered thinking about it. "I can tell." But my expression only darkened with the memory of my Father's court and the atrocities I'd encountered in his welcoming of new hands. I had seen much, much worse. 

Devra led me to a simple wooden door, pausing to give me a deeply sorrowful look. "I'd hoped you would have been assigned to the kitchens to start," he said. "To at least allow you time to adjust." 

My jaw clenched, and my hands wrung on the skirt hanging loose at my hips. "Ari and Miri, are they-"

"Yes," he all but whispered. "The other two pleasure slaves." 

Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I clenched them tight to avoid crying so openly. "I see," I managed to squeak out. "Well," I said after a quiet moment. "If you don't mind, I do think I'll-" I vaguely gestured towards the door and Devra stepped aside to allow me to pass.

"Rest well," he said. "Because tomorrow you'll meet the King."