6. Josie

6

JOSIE

I scrub the floor with vigor, my arms aching from the repetitive motion. The dining room's opulence mocks me, a stark reminder of how far I've fallen. My eyes sting, and I blink rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.

A droplet splashes onto the polished wood beneath me. Damn it. I swipe at my face with the back of my hand, smearing dirt across my cheek.

Mom's face flashes in my mind, her kind eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles. My chest tightens. What would she think of me now? Trapped in this gilded cage, at the mercy of a brute who treats me like dirt beneath his feet.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I mutter, scrubbing harder. The jewelry glitters in my memory, taunting me. One moment of weakness, and look where it's landed me. If only I'd kept my hands to myself, I'd be home right now, not stuck here with that insufferable orc.

My shoulders tense at the thought of Sarod. His towering frame, those piercing amber eyes that seem to see right through me. A shudder runs down my spine. What if he decides I'm more trouble than I'm worth? The threat of death hangs over me like a storm cloud, ready to break at any moment.

The floorboard creaks behind me, the sound shattering the silence like a thunderclap. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat, pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it. Slowly, I turn my head, my muscles tense and ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

Sarod stands in the doorway, his massive form filling the space, blocking out what little light filters in from the hallway. I brace myself for the usual barrage of insults, steeling my nerves for the cutting words I've come to expect. But they don't come. He just... watches me, his face an unreadable mask. Those amber eyes, usually filled with contempt, are fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle and my breath catch in my chest.

I duck my head, unable to hold his gaze any longer. My eyes dart back to the floor, focusing on the grimy planks as if they hold the answers to all my problems. My hands tremble as I resume scrubbing, the coarse bristles of the brush scraping against my palms. I'm all too aware of his presence looming over me, like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating, and I find myself wishing he would just say something, anything, to break this unbearable tension.

I scrub furiously, trying to ignore Sarod's piercing gaze that carves into my skin. The silence stretches, thick and oppressive. My skin crawls under his scrutiny. I can't take it anymore.

"What?" I snap, whirling to face him. "What do you want?"

Sarod's eyes narrow, his amber gaze piercing through me like a dagger. "Watch your tone, thief," he growls, his deep voice rumbling through the room.

"My tone?" I laugh bitterly, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "You're the one standing there, staring like some creep. What, never seen a girl clean before?"

"This is my house," he growls, taking a step forward. His massive frame seems to fill the entire doorway, making me feel even smaller. "I'll look wherever I damn well please. Got a problem with that?"

I rise to my feet, fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. The fear coursing through me transforms into anger, hot and fierce. "Then go look somewhere else," I spit out. "I'm busy cleaning your precious floors. Or did you forget that's why I'm here in the first place?"

"You're here to work, not give me lip," Sarod growls, his amber eyes flashing with anger.

"I'm here because you threatened to kill me!" The words burst out before I can stop them, my chest heaving with pent-up frustration. "You think I want to be here, scrubbing your floors like some slave? This isn't exactly my idea of a good time, you know."

Sarod's face darkens. His massive hands clench into fists at his sides, and I can't help but flinch. "You're lucky that's all you're doing," he snarls, taking another step closer. "After what you stole?—"

"I know!" I shout, my voice echoing off the walls and making me wince. "I know what I did. You remind me every damn day." I run a hand through my tangled hair, fighting back the tears of anger and frustration that threaten to spill over. "You think I could forget? That I don't regret it every single moment I'm stuck here with you?"

He towers over me, his presence suffocating. The scent of sweat fills my nostrils as I struggle not to back away. My heart pounds in my chest, defiance coursing through my veins.

"Show some gratitude," Sarod growls, his deep voice rumbling through me.

"Gratitude?" I spit the word like poison, tasting bile in my throat. My fists clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms. "For what? For treating me like dirt? For making my life a living hell? For every damn day I have to scrub floors and serve drinks to your rowdy friends?"

"For sparing your miserable life," Sarod snarls, baring his tusks. His amber eyes burn with an intensity that makes me shiver.

We're inches apart now, both breathing hard. The air crackles with tension, thick enough to choke on. I can feel the heat radiating off his massive frame, see the pulse throbbing in his neck.

"Some life," I mutter, glaring up at him. My voice drips with sarcasm as I force myself to hold his gaze. "Trapped here, at your beck and call. I'd rather—" I cut myself off, biting back words I know I'll regret. But the unspoken threat hangs between us, sharp as a blade.

"Rather what?" he challenges. "Go back to that shithole tavern? Struggle to make ends meet? At least here you have stable food and a roof over your head."

His words hit too close to home. I turn away, blinking back tears of frustration.

"You don't know anything about me," I say quietly.

"I know you're a thief," Sarod retorts. "And ungrateful to boot."

I whirl back to face him. "You want gratitude? Fine. Thank you, oh mighty Sarod, for not killing me. Thank you for the privilege of being your servant. Is that what you want to hear?"

His jaw clenches. "I want you to do your job without attitude."

"Then let me work in peace," I snap. "Stop hovering over me like I'm about to steal the silverware."

For a moment, I think he might actually hit me. His hands clench into fists, and I brace myself. But then he takes a deep breath, visibly forcing himself to relax.

"Get back to work," he growls. "And remember your place."

As he storms out, I sink to my knees. The tears I've been holding back finally spill over. I've never felt so trapped, so powerless.

But as I wipe my eyes and pick up the scrub brush, a spark of defiance ignites in my chest. I won't let him break me. Somehow, some way, I'll find a way out of this mess. I have to.

I scrub the floor with renewed vigor, my mind racing. Sarod's footsteps fade down the hallway, but the weight of his presence lingers. I can't live like this forever. I won't.

My eyes dart around the opulent dining room, taking in every detail. The heavy curtains, the ornate vases, the gleaming silverware. Each item a potential tool, a possible key to my freedom.

"Think, Josie," I mutter under my breath. "There's gotta be a way out of this mess."

I picture Mom's face, her warm smile and tired eyes. The thought of her waiting for me, wondering where I've gone, makes my chest ache. I have to get back to her. We've struggled for so long, barely scraping by. But together, we've always found a way.

My hands move mechanically across the floor as I plot. The servants' entrance at the back of the house. The food delivery schedule, where Sarod gets a huge sum of fresh ingredients directly sent to his front door. The guards' rotation. Bits and pieces of information I've gathered over the past weeks, fitting together like a puzzle.

A plan starts to take shape in my mind. Risky, but possible. I'd need to time it perfectly, wait for just the right moment. And I'd need supplies. Money, food, something to trade.

My gaze lands on a small statuette perched on a nearby shelf. Solid gold, by the looks of it. My fingers twitch, remembering the weight of Sarod's jewelry. No. I shake my head, banishing the thought. That's what got me into this mess in the first place.

But maybe... maybe I could take just enough to get by. To give Mom and me a fresh start somewhere far from here. Somewhere Sarod and his threats can't reach us.

Fear and excitement war in my chest. It's dangerous, so dangerous. If I'm caught... I shudder, remembering Sarod's words. His promise of death if I cross him again.

But the alternative – staying here, trapped and powerless – is unbearable. I have to try. For Mom. For myself.

I dip the brush back into the bucket, my movements slow and deliberate as I continue to clean. On the surface, I'm the perfect picture of a diligent servant. Inside, my mind whirs with possibilities, mapping out escape routes and contingency plans.

One way or another, I'm getting out of here. And when I do, Mom and I will have the life we've always dreamed of. No more scraping by, no more living in fear. We'll be free.

A small smile tugs at my lips as I work. For the first time in weeks, I feel a flicker of hope. It's risky, it's terrifying, but it's possible. And that's enough to keep me going.