The Demon's Mate

Chapter two

Nirelle was roughly pushed by the burly man walking behind her. She hadn't realized she had stopped walking, she had been totally disconnected from her environment.

She looked around the courtyard and saw the woman standing at a distance looking at her pointedly. Nirelle didn't wait to be pushed again, she resumed walking towards her.

They approached an ancient looking building. Before they got in, Nirelle looked up to that window again, eagerly searching for the strange man with her eyes, but the window was empty. The covers were drawn shut, still like no one was ever there to disturb it.

Her heart sank.

Maybe what she saw wasn't real, just her imagination. Maybe she was hallucinating due to the biting hunger she was feeling.

Her thoughts were going haywire as she followed the woman into the building and was led to a room.

The room was small and sunlit. Light poured in through a single high window. The floor creaked softly under her bare feet. Five plain dresses hung from a dark wooden rail. Beneath it was a low wooden chest with a folded blanket on top. In the corner, a narrow mirror was propped against the wall, and beside it, a small shelf held only a comb, a bar of soap, and a tiny bottle of oil.

Four other girls stood in a straight line, each facing the door. The woman silently signaled her to join them.

"Everyone calls me Mistress Silvane, and so will you," she said to the five girls. "In a short while, maids will be here to get you ready for tonight. Be on your best behavior because any slip up will not be tolerated. very important individuals will be present at the auction, so you cannot afford to get them angry. Do you understand?"

The girls murmured their understanding and nodded.

Immediately she got their answer, she turned around without another word and left, her footsteps echoing down the hall. The two men left with her.

Once they left, the tension in Nirelle's muscles eased, and she crumpled to the floor. She hugged herself tightly, not making a sound. She had learned that making a sound only made it worse.

None of the other girls spoke. Each of them took seats on the floor in their own corner, alone and afraid.

After a while of silence, Nirelle lifted her head and started observing the other girls. They all looked her age and maybe even younger. One was a tall brunette; the other was a redhead with pretty facial features. The girl with a baby face had jet black hair, and she was so terrified that her doe eyes were almost popping out of her sockets. The last girl was a chubby blonde. They all looked as unkempt and exhausted as Nirelle.

She searched her memory, wondering if she had seen them before, but she couldn't remember their faces.

While she was lost in her observation, a line of maids walked in. Six in total, five wore the same uniform, but the oldest amongst them wore something different.

They silently approached the girls and softly dragged them to their feet. They started taking off their ragged dresses. Nirelle was so uncomfortable, and she tried to cover herself, but it was useless. In the slave establishment they were allowed a bath once a week, and it was a general activity, but Nirelle never got used to being nude in front of people.

The clothes were dumped on the ground in a pile, and the girls were ushered to an adjoining room that turned out to be a large bathing area.

It was warm and heavy with steam. Along both walls was a long trough of stone with many iron spouts dripping water into it. In the middle were several large, low wooden tubs filled with soapy, clouded water. The room smelled strongly of damp stone and harsh lye soap.

The older maid gave instructions with hand movements, and the others carried them out promptly.

Nirelle and the other girls were given a thorough wash from their tangled hair to their dirty feet. It was the cleanest Nirelle had felt in many months, and for a second she closed her eyes and forgot where she was.

They took turns sitting on the wooden chest getting their hair done. Her golden hair was combed out until it became silky and soft again, nothing like the matted mess of an hour ago. It was done into a side braid.

Next, she was helped into a thin shift of undyed linen, sleeveless and hemmed roughly at the knees. It was clean but worn thin from washing, so pale it was almost grey. No shoes, no belt, no undergarment. A small number tag had been stitched to the hem, like she was not a person but a thing.

It was obvious that the aim of the bath was to reveal their natural beauty hidden behind the dirt and grime.

Once the process was completed on all five girls, the maids left as quietly as they had entered. The door closed, the lock turned with a heavy click. They were left alone for a very long time.

Hours passed. The light slanted low through the high window, turning from white to gold, and by sunset the dressing room was filled with long shadows. Nirelle had just started dozing off when the door opened again.

It was Mistress Silvane, this time accompanied only by the burly man. He entered with a heavy iron chain.

The girls were ordered to form a single file and the burly man proceeded to link them together with the chain, so when one person moved, all of them followed. The iron was cold and heavy against her skin.

They were led from the first building with Mistress Silvane at the front and the burly man close behind. The building ahead was well kept and far more luxurious than the others around. Nirelle's consciousness stirred. She recognized it, it was the one she had seen the strange man in earlier.

Goosebumps rose on her skin at the memory of his stare. Her heart hammered. She felt like a lamb led to slaughter, which in her present state was not far from the truth, and yet she could not shake the feeling that it was going to be an entirely different kind of sacrifice.

When they entered, it was as enormous and grand inside as it was from outside. Nirelle couldn't help but gawk at the beauty surrounding her.

The corridor was impossibly long. Mistress Silvane's heels clicked against white marble that shone like ice. Tall pillars lined both sides, carved with different ferocious beasts. Between them hung heavy blue banners,and the ceiling was so high Nirelle felt she was walking at the bottom of a canyon. It felt almost forbidden to walk in such elegance.

The air grew warmer as they walked. Voices drifted from ahead, low murmured conversations, the clink of cups.

Nirelle's chain felt heavier with every step. Her bare feet were silent on the marble, but her heart was loud. The grandeur did not make her feel safe, it made her feel small, like an ant that had wandered into a temple.

Then the corridor opened.

The main hall was vast. A domed ceiling painted with stars and moons rose far above. Light fell from a great crystal chandelier and scattered across the floor. Rows of cushioned seats draped in velvet were already filled with men and women of influence, speaking quietly, fanning themselves, waiting.

At the center, a low circular platform of black stone waited empty.

Nirelle stopped breathing for a second and goosebumps returned. She clutched her thin shift and lowered her gaze.