~6~
1433 Words
~TIANA {POV}~
The maid spoke, a frown deepening the wrinkles beside her eyes.
"You're a girl," she said as she stepped into the room and crossed her arms over her chest.
My heart lurched violently.
Her eyes swept over me again, more carefully this time, before narrowing slightly. "Does Master Marcus know?"
I shook my head frantically.
Fear crashed into me so fast that my knees buckled beneath me. I dropped onto the floor before her, my trembling hands clasping together in silent desperation as I begged her not to reveal my secret.
I couldn't let them know. Not now when they only just brought me.
The maid stared down at me with unreadable eyes. For a moment, she didn't move at all. Then the sternness on her face softened just slightly, though not enough to make her look kind.
Even though I couldn't speak, she understood exactly what I was trying to say.
"You don't want me telling anyone," she muttered flatly.
I nodded rapidly, relief and panic tangling together inside my chest.
The woman sighed through her nose before crouching slightly so we were almost eye level.
"I won't tell anybody," she said at last. "But understand something clearly, girl. Nothing comes for free in this house. You're now indebted to me."
A shiver crawled down my spine.
A Debt.
I knew what that word implied far too well.
The maid straightened again and gestured toward the small dresser near the wall.
"Get changed and come out. You can freshen up first since the workers use the general bathrooms, or you can eat breakfast before washing up."
At the mention of food, my stomach growled loudly.
The sound echoed embarrassingly through the small room.
One of the maid's brows lifted faintly before she clicked her tongue.
"So it's the latter then," she remarked dryly, already turning toward the door. She motioned for me to follow her. "Come on."
I hurried after her without hesitation.
The house was far larger than I had originally thought. It was a two story building with long hallways, tiled floors, and several doors lined neatly along the walls. The place looked simple but spacious, big enough that I doubted I had even seen half of it yet.
Servants moved constantly through the corridors carrying trays, laundry baskets, and cleaning supplies. Some barely spared me a glance while others openly stared before quickly looking away again.
As we walked farther into the house, I noticed two large communal bathrooms positioned opposite each other along one of the hallways, one for the men and the other for the women.
The maid continued leading me through the house without slowing down.
When we neared the kitchen, she finally glanced back at me over her shoulder.
"Try to blend in," she warned curtly.
I could already hear loud chatter and bursts of laughter spilling from the kitchen through the open doorway.
The moment we stepped inside, every sound ceased.
Silence swallowed the room whole, as all eyes snapped toward me at once.
The sudden attention made my chest tighten with tension.
"Who the hell is he?" a man asked, his dirty brown hair falling untidily beside his face as he stared at me suspiciously.
I instantly felt self-conscious beneath all their gazes.
I hated being the center of attention. If anything, I preferred being invisible to everyone because invisible meant no trouble.
But here I was with at least ten pairs of eyes fixed on me, and none of them looked particularly friendly.
"Oh, I heard he's a new pet," a female worker whispered loudly, though there was nothing subtle about her tone since everyone clearly heard her.
Several snickers broke out around the kitchen.
"A pet? Seriously?"
"He looks half dead already."
"Master Marcus must've gotten bored."
"Probably another stray they picked off the streets."
Their harsh comments slammed into me one after another while laughter bounced around the room.
I lowered my gaze to the floor, humiliation burning through me.
Then a younger woman who looked to be in her early twenties frowned at the others.
"Can you all stop already?" she snapped irritably. "He's literally just standing there."
The maid who had mocked me earlier scoffed loudly.
"Oh, look who's suddenly growing a conscience," she sneered. "Mind your business, you little whore."
The younger woman's face darkened, but thankfully the exchange reduced some of the mocking.
The maid who had brought me there finally spoke after remaining silent the entire time. She had even laughed once at something one of the workers had said.
She nodded toward an empty stool at the end of the long wooden table.
"Go sit there," she instructed.
I obeyed immediately and moved toward the stool, sitting down stiffly while trying to ignore the stares still lingering on me.
The maid grabbed two loaves of bread and dropped them carelessly into an old bowl before placing it in front of me.
"Here. Eat," she said coldly, shoving the bowl across the table with little care.
I barely managed to catch the bread before it tumbled onto the floor.
A wave of humiliation washed over me, but it was very quickly overshadowed by hunger.
The sweet aroma rising from the bread made my mouth water hungrily.
I bit into it without delay, the softness nearly stunning me.
I ate hungrily, finishing the first loaf so quickly that I barely even tasted it.
The workers watched me with varying expressions of disgust, amusement, and indifference.
The older maid then turned toward the others.
"Preparation for lunch starts in ten minutes, so hurry it up in here," she announced sharply.
The authority in her tone made it obvious she was the one in charge of the kitchen staff.
After saying that, she walked away briskly like she had far more important matters waiting for her elsewhere.
The workers became louder once she left.
Some openly stared at me while others whispered among themselves. Their looks alone made it obvious they considered me beneath them, lower than even a slave.
I kept my head lowered as I finished the second loaf of bread.
Yet my hunger still clawed viciously at my stomach.
It had been four days since I last ate a dry piece of meat afterall.
My eyes drifted toward the single pancake left on a nearby plate.
Without meaning to, I licked my lips while staring at it.
"Look at him drooling over the last pancake like some starved dog," the dirty brown-haired worker mocked with visible disgust.
Heat flooded my face, and I tore my gaze away from the plate in embarrassment.
The bread had barely done anything to ease my hunger.
"Guys, I have an idea," the maid who had been especially cruel throughout all this suddenly said.
The dangerous excitement in her voice instantly made my stomach tighten.
From the corner of my eye, I watched her pick up the plate holding the pancake before walking toward me.
"Hey there," she said sweetly, causing me to slowly look up at her.
"I think we got off on the wrong foot," she continued with a smile that looked strangely sincere. "So I'd like to apologize for my attitude and everyone else's too."
She extended the plate toward me.
"Take this. A small peace offering."
There was such convincing gentleness in her eyes that I foolishly believed her.
As I reached for the plate, she intentionally released it before my fingers could touch it.
The plate shattered against the floor.
My eyes widened as pieces scattered everywhere.
"Oops," she murmured, glancing down at the mess before lifting her brows at me mockingly. "Don't just sit there. Go ahead and eat it. You don't want the food going to waste on the floor, do you?"
Several workers burst into laughter, while others simply watched silently.
I stared at the pancake lying among the sharp shards of broken plate and shook my head weakly.
That instantly wiped the amusement off the maid's face.
Her palm slammed violently against the table.
"E-A-T it," she hissed viciously while pointing at the floor. "Or I'll shove it down your throat myself."
The wickedness in her eyes made fear twist inside me.
Silence settled heavily across the kitchen as everyone watched to see what I would do.
After a long moment, I slowly slid off the stool and lowered myself onto my knees beside the shattered plate.
My fingers trembled as I picked up a piece of the pancake.
Carefully, I plucked off a tiny shard of glass stuck to it before bringing it closer to my lips.
"Stop!"
- Writer
