Enslaved love

I walked in with one bag. Just one bag. The string of the bag was cutting my shoulder. I held it since morning. My arm was paining me. The doors were big. Really big. Taller than my father's house. When they opened, cold air hit my face. I stopped breathing. For a second. Then I saw the light. Not like any light inside house before. Big chandelier at top. Many crystals. Stairs looked like gold. Maybe not real gold. But shining. Floor was white. So clean I saw my feet inside it. My feet was dirty. Slippers cracked. I walked three hours to come here. From village to Aurelis town. No one gave me ride. They all knew. My father died owing Lady Aurora. They called me debt girl. Behind my back. At market, two women stopped talking. Stared at my bag. One whispered, "That's Ravensworth girl. Father used her to pay." I did not answer. Just walked. My bag was light. Nothing was inside it . One extra dress. My mother's handkerchief Old. Faded. And letter from father. He wrote, "I owe Lady Aurora 500 gold coins. If I die, let my daughter work." 500 gold. He borrowed for my mother's medicine. Medicine did not work. She died anyway. Then father got sick. From work. From worry. Now both gone. And I here. I turned small circle inside golden hall. I forgot I was servant. I just stared. Like fool. "Stop gaping like a goat." Voice sharp. I jumped. Whole body. Lady Aurora stood at top of small stairs. Everything about her gold. Gold on wrists. Gold on neck. Gold in hair. She wore her dead husband's money like armor. Like if she wear enough gold, nobody can touch her. Eyes cold. Looked at me like dirt. "Close your mouth," she said. "You here to work. Not to stare." I closed mouth fast. Looked down at cracked slippers. "Yes." She said nothing for some seconds. Just looked. Then she clapped once. Maid came running. Eyes down. Not looking at me. "Take her to back," Aurora said. "And tell Mara to burn those clothes. She stinks of village." My face hot. Cheeks burning. I wanted to say something. But I remembered father's voice. "Do not fight them, Tessa. Pay. So your soul can rest." So I said nothing. Maid said "Follow me" and I followed. We left golden hall. Small door. Gold disappeared. Light disappeared. Now narrow hallway. Walls just wood. No gold. No crystals. Air colder. Far from golden halls. At end of hallway, small room. Maid opened. "This is yours." I stepped inside. Room small. Very small. Thin bed against wall. Wooden stool. Tiny window too high to see. Walls bare. No gold here. But bed had real blanket. Thick. Not my old wrapper with holes. Floor dry. Roof not leaking. In father's house, when rain fell, we put three buckets on floor. Water from everywhere. Mother cough more when roof leaked. I hold her hand all night. Here, dry. Better than what I left. Maid left. No word. Closed door. I stood long time. Holding bag. Then sat on edge of bed. Bed made small sound. Put bag down. And I let out breath. Shaky breath I held since morning. Then memories came. Like flood. Mother pale face on sickbed. Hand so thin. Last cough. Soft. Then silence. Then father screaming my name. Day of burial. Village people came. Ate. Left. Father held my hand tight. Fingers hurting. He did not cry. Just held. Then his own final night. Three weeks ago. Same mat mother died. Voice gone. Almost gone. Whispered, "Tessa. The debt. Do not fight them. Promise me." I put hand on his chest. Promised. "I promise, Papa." He died that night. I lost both. No one left. Nothing left but promise and debt. Tear fell. I did not wipe. Then another. I was staring at bare wall when sharp voice cut house. "TESSA!" I jumped up fast. Almost fell. Wiped face with hand. Fast. Hard. "Yes, Ma'am?" I shouted, running out. Voice echoed in narrow hallway. Aurora stood at end of hall. Arms folded. Eyes narrowed when she saw me. "Ma'am?" she said cold. "I am not your mother." Throat tight. Another maid scurried forward. Bowed head low. "Yes, Lady Aurora?" Aurora pointed at her without looking. "Did you hear how she answered me?" "Yes, Lady Aurora." Aurora turned back to me. Eyes ice. "Now you say it." Throat closed. Thought of father. Thought of promise. Thought of 500 gold coins. Lips shaking. "Yes... Lady Aurora," I whispered. "Louder." Swallowed tears. "Yes, Lady Aurora." Cold smile touched her lips. Never reached eyes. "Good. Learn quickly, girl. You not in your village now. In this house, you answer right, or you don't eat. Understand?" I nodded. "Say it." "Yes, Lady Aurora." "Good. Now come. There is work. My sons awake. And they do not like to wait." She turned and walked away. Dress made no sound. I followed. One bag still on thin bed. Mother's handkerchief inside. And heart beating so loud I thought she could hear. I did not know that night that cruelest of her sons would be one I would learn to love. And I did not know he would be one to make me cry behind pantry every night. ---