Mundo ficciónIniciar sesiónThe iron tray was placed right on a small table next to my chair.
Lady Isa stepped into my field of vision, standing over me. —Eat something before we finish washing you. Once you’re clean, you start your work. The thought of what that work meant chilled my chest, but I nodded anyway. A small iron knife was set beside the wooden plate. The second I used the edge to cut the hot meat, my stomach let out a loud, painful growl that echoed through the silent hall. A couple of the nearby girls laughed behind their hands. I hadn’t tasted meat in weeks. I had been living on rotten bread and stale water thrown on the ground by the guards. Without thinking, I dropped the knife, grabbed a piece of the warm meat with my bare fingers, and shoved it into my mouth. I chewed as fast as I could, swallowing hard before I had even finished tasting it, terrified that someone would snatch the plate away if I was too slow. The room went completely silent around me. The girl who had been cleaning my legs stopped the cloth. She reached out and placed a soft hand on my trembling knee. —Slower, Yara —she said gently, her eyes kind and sad as she looked up at my wild face—. No one is going to steal your food here. You don’t have to fight for your plate anymore. You’re going to eat every day now. A hot tear slipped from my eye, making its way down my cheek. I swallowed the mouthful of food and took a deep, shaky breath, my shoulders trembling. —Thank you —I rasped, my throat tight—. Thank you so much. The girl behind me pulled the last splinter from my upper arm and set her tool down with a quiet clink. —I’m finished with her scratches, Lady Isa. Lady Isa nodded to her. —Madam Elena, prepare the hot bath for her in the back room. She turned her sharp eyes toward a younger girl standing by the door. —And you, Lina, take her to the wardrobe room so she can choose a proper dress. I stood up from the chair, wiping my greasy fingers on my dirty skirt. Lina said softly: —Follow me. She guided me through a heavy side door into a small room filled with clothes hanging from long wooden poles. Every single dress hanging in that room was made of fine transparent netting or soft silk that barely covered anything. They were cut low at the chest and open high up the leg. My face grew hot just from looking at them. I reached out a trembling hand and chose a simple blue net dress that seemed a little thicker than the rest. After that, Lina took me to the bathroom. In the center of the room stood an enormous wooden tub filled with steaming water that smelled sweet and of flower petals. The moment I stepped out of my rags and lowered my bruised body into the water, a silent sigh escaped my mouth. The heat sank deep into my cold bones. My muscles, which had been tense and hard as rock for six months, finally began to loosen. For a second, I only wanted to lean my head against the wooden edge, close my eyes, and sink under the surface to sleep for three days. I couldn’t remember the last time warm water had touched me. Even when my monthly heat came in the slave cages, or when the bleeding started while we were chained outside in the courtyard, no one had ever given me a cloth or a cup of water to wash myself. I had been forced to sit in my own filth on the ground while the men laughed at me. I grabbed the rough soap and scrubbed my arms until the skin turned a bright pink. When I finally climbed out of the tub and pulled the blue net dress over my head, Lady Isa was waiting by the door. She walked a full circle around me, her sharp eyes traveling over every inch of my body, before letting out a long sigh. —Your hair is a complete disaster —she complained, reaching out to touch the ends of my wet hair—. It looks like a bird has been living in it for three winters. She leaned slightly, taking my wrist to look at my hands. —And these nails… She shook her head, clicking her tongue against her teeth. —They’re uneven and dark. Your hands and feet look like you’ve been digging through rocks with your paws. Madam Elena smiled, entering the room with a wooden comb and a bottle of clear oil. —Lina and I will fix her, Madam. They made me sit on a low stool between them. For the next hour they worked on me without stopping. They used oils to untangle the enormous knots in my red hair, combing it until it fell smooth and long down my back, touching the top of my hips. Then they trimmed my sharp nails, rubbing them with smooth stones until they were neat and rounded. When they finally finished, Lina held the curtain open so I could walk back out into the main hall. The second my feet crossed the threshold, every single girl in the room stopped talking. The entire space fell into sepulchral silence. Every eye turned toward me. The blue net dress hugged my waist tightly, showing the pale skin of my stomach and the shape of my legs through the thin fabric. My long, shiny red hair hung thick and lustrous over my bare shoulders. Even Hannah stopped eating her apple, her dark eyes wide as she stared at me from the other side of the room. A small, bitter smile touched her lips. Lady Isa stood near the central table, looking me up and down. A slow, satisfied nod came from her. —This… —Lady Isa murmured, her voice filled with a kind of cold pride—. This is exactly the kind of girl men will fight over. She waved her hand, pointing to a small wooden table beside her. A white piece of parchment lay flat on the wood, next to a small bowl of dark red ink. —I need your word, girl —said Lady Isa, her voice turning hard and serious—. You will never try to betray this house. Whatever you do here, you ask me first. And you will never, ever try to run out those doors. —I won’t —I answered immediately, stepping closer to the table—. I swear I won’t run. She raised an eyebrow, her dark eyes narrowing. —A spoken word doesn’t mean much from an Omega who has spent half her life running from the guards. She crossed her arms over her chest, resting her hip against the edge of the table. —I’ve heard about girls with bright red hair like yours. You’re hard to find, but you’re all stubborn as mules. A dry, thin smile touched her face for a second before it faded. —And I was told you escaped from three different cages before ending up here. Her posture stiffened, her eyes locking onto mine like iron claws. —I took you in today, Yara. Don’t make me look like a fool. —I won’t —I whispered, my voice quiet but firm. I looked her straight in the eyes, letting her see the complete truth on my face—. I just don’t want to be thrown into another cage or given to a master who will open my skin. I lowered my head, shoulders sinking. —Please… just keep me safe like you said. Lady Isa’s face softened a little. The hard line of her mouth relaxed. —As long as you follow my rules and do what you’re told, no one in this city will touch a hair on your head without paying for it first —she said. She leaned in, took my index finger and dipped the tip into the fresh red ink. She guided my hand to the bottom of the parchment. —Seal it. Without hesitating for a second, I pressed my thumb firmly onto the dry paper, leaving a bright red mark right next to her written signature. —Good —said Lady Isa. She picked up the contract, rolled it into a tight scroll, and tucked it into her belt—. Now it’s time. I blinked, looking at her in confusion. —Time for what? —The stage —she answered simply, turning toward the heavy red curtain that led to the main hall. My stomach dropped straight down to my wooden sandals. Panic flared in my throat like hot fire. I looked automatically at Hannah, eyes wide with fear. Hannah caught my gaze and gave me a single small, sharp nod before looking away. Lady Isa saw the terror on my face and let out a dry sigh. —Calm down. This is not a slave block —she explained, her tone flat and sharp—. We’re going to set your price for the men outside. She walked toward the curtain, gesturing for me to follow closely. —We’re going to find out what you’re worth —she continued as we walked down the dark wooden hallway—. The higher the men bid for your first night, the higher your status will be inside this house. She turned her head to look at me over her shoulder, her eyes traveling over my red hair and the shape of my hips through the blue net dress. —If the bids go high, you become a high-ranking courtesan. That means you only serve the richest Alpha lords, pack leaders, and VIPs in the private rooms upstairs. You get soft beds, clean clothes, and rights that the girls downstairs don’t have. She stopped just before the heavy curtain, her voice dropping. —If your price stays low… you stay in the common room downstairs with the drunk guards and the ordinary beta workers.






