Xavier
For the most part, the slave girl had been entirely emotionless. From the moment I spotted her in the shop, she wore only one look on her face—a calm, submissive expression, which sometimes shifted with fear. But otherwise, remained still and unmoving.
Now, for the first time, something else shown on her face.
It wasn’t quite a smile, but a semblance of something close. A flutter of excitement, or perhaps surprise.
Hope. That was the look she wore. A look of hope. How refreshing.
“I-I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked.
She was skittish. A stray, seeking help, but too timid to approach all the way. I wanted to reach for her, but I couldn’t allow myself to scare her off.
She stammered. “I—You said I…”
“You’ll be free,” I assured her.
The unsure expression on her face
