Branded

No light. No breeze. The stillness of the darkness was only broken by the slow dripping of the walls and the inevitable scurrying of rodents feet. Exposed brick bearly provided enough protection from the wind and the elements which treatened to breakdown the wooden door, sending swirls of frosted flakes flying beneath the hearth of the door. Muffled voices, almost indistinguishable, rumbled outside. Fraya perked her ears up but dare not move. Movement equaled pain. Holding her breath she focused on the deeper tone. Concentrating had become harder the past few days as she had been slowly starved. "When is the auction?" "Tomorrow." Fraya exhaled. Tomorrow she would meet her fate. Three Months Earlier... "Fraya! Where are you, you stupid girl?" Yelled Margo from the kitchen, "The Lord won't be happy if dinner is late!" Groaning, Fray ascended the stairs from the servants quarters in the basement. Over her shoulder she carried several decanters on a large, ornate platter. Each one held rich, red liqueur as deep as blood. "Sorry! I was just fetching the refills. He also is particular about keeping his glass full!" She exhaled as she placed the burden on the desk. "Good Girl! Now I know this is your first time on this type of job but it doesn't give you an excuse. One mistake and you are back scrubing the floors at the school rather than serving our Lord. " Margo eyed her up and down. Margo had found Fraya by chance when she visited the school two weeks ago to drop off the Lords donation to the school. He said it was always a good idea to be seen as charitable. After speaking to the headmaster she had almost fallen over Fraya by mistake as she was busy polishing the floor. Fraya had the ability to blend in almost like she was so self concious she willed herself out of existance. That was a quality required as a servant. Your presence should not be recognised in the slightest. She decided then and there she was perfect. On closer inspection she was suprisingly pleasing to the eye. a full bossom, curvaceous hips and soft supple lips. But what really stood out was her large, brown doe eyes hidden behind her raven black hair. There depths were endless but twinged with sadness. All of this was carefully concealed. Her hair hung loose covering most of the face. With her shoulders hunched over she seemed small, pathetic almost. Reports suggested she was a hardworker. An orphan recently released from the local centre, trying to work hard and make it on her own. No family. No real friends she could track down. Perfect for the job that was required at the Lords manor. "Margo, should I go up now?" Freya sqeeked nervously. "Yes girl. Remember, do not speak, do not make eye contact, serve as silently as possible. And the last rule?" "Obey all orders," Fraya parroted. "Good. Now, off you go." Fraya nodded and scurried upstairs towards the dinning room.