5. Geneva

5

GENEVA

U nfortunately, Julia and Margaret weren't bought along with me. Instead, there's a different human girl sitting across from me in this carriage, tears in her eyes as she stares out the window.

Her name is Tatiana, and she's not one of Miss Pickett's own. She's blonde with kind blue eyes and marks along her arms and legs that are proof that she's been whipped before.

The carriage jostles us as it rolls along the cobbled path. Tatiana sniffles, trying frantically to wipe away the tears that keep coming. I can't blame her for crying; the future we're heading into is bleak.

"You think it's true what they say about dark elves?" she whispers, her voice cracking.

I keep my eyes on the window, the passing scenery a blur. "Depends on which rumors you've heard. Most of them, probably."

Her sobs grow louder, and I reach out, grabbing her hand. "Hey, don't fall apart now. We'll figure something out."

"Like what? We've been sold!"

"Well, maybe we can fight back. In some ways," I mutter, squeezing the hidden crystals in my pocket.

The manor looms ahead, its spires piercing the sky like skeletal fingers. We come to a halt, and the door swings open. A servant ushers us out, leading us through a labyrinth of hallways until we're standing before an opulent door.

It swings open, revealing Sylas, our new master. His eyes are as cold as the ice-covered peaks of the north, and his smile doesn't reach them.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he says, voice smooth but devoid of warmth. "You'll find your new roles here quite... engaging."

Tatiana steps back, her grip on my hand tightening. "What do you mean?"

"You'll serve as maids. Tending to the household and our esteemed guests," he explains, waving a hand dismissively.

I grit my teeth. "And by ‘esteemed guests,' you mean those who pay for our company?"

His smile widens, showing a hint of sharp teeth. "Precisely. You catch on quickly. You'll be lent out to them as part of your duties."

Tatiana gasps, and I can feel her trembling beside me. I force myself to meet his gaze, the crystals pressing into my palm. "And if we refuse?"

Sylas' eyes glint with a dangerous amusement as he steps closer. Tatiana's grip on my hand tightens, her knuckles turning white. I feel a surge of defiance but swallow it down for now. There will be a time for rebellion, but this isn't it.

"Disobedience," Sylas begins, his voice silky and menacing, "will result in severe punishment. Understand this: I control every aspect of your lives now."

Tatiana's voice wavers. "What kind of punishment?"

Sylas' smile widens. "Ah, curiosity. It's charming, but also dangerous. Let's say, a night in the dungeon will make you think twice about defiance. Or perhaps a session with the whip."

I meet his gaze, refusing to look away. "We're not animals."

"True," he says, tilting his head. "But you're commodities. And commodities must be managed."

Tatiana's tears fall freely now. "Please, we'll do what you ask. Just don't hurt us."

He waves a hand dismissively. "That's the spirit. Compliance will make your lives here much more pleasant. Now, let's get you both settled."

Sylas claps his hands twice, which prompts a servant to appear, bowing low. "The rooms are prepared, Master Sylas."

"Excellent. Take them to their quarters and ensure they understand their responsibilities," he orders, turning away from us as if we're already forgotten.

We're led down another series of hallways, each one more lavish than the last. Tatiana clings to me, her breaths shallow and quick. "What are we going to do, Geneva?"

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my own racing heart. "We survive. That's our only option."

The servant leads us to our quarters, a communal room packed with narrow beds lined up close together. The air smells of sweat and despair, a stench that churns my stomach. Tatiana's hand slips from mine as we step inside, her eyes wide with horror.

"Welcome to your new home," the servant says with a hint of mockery. "Get used to it."

Human women of all ages sit or lie on the beds, their faces blank, eyes hollow. They barely glance up as we enter. The room is cramped, the beds so close together that moving without bumping into someone seems impossible.

"This can't be it," Tatiana whispers, her voice barely audible.

I swallow hard, the knot in my stomach tightening. "It is. For now."

Tatiana sinks onto an empty bed, her shoulders shaking. "I can't live like this."

I sit beside her, feeling the hard mattress beneath me. "Things won't always be bad."

She looks up, eyes red and puffy. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I won't let this place break me. You should make sure it doesn't break you, too." I squeeze the crystals in my pocket, the only tangible link to the demon who might be my only hope.

A woman across from us finally speaks, her voice flat and lifeless. "New arrivals, huh? Don't get your hopes up. This is it."

"Thank you for your optimism," I say, sarcasm dripping from my words.

She shrugs, her eyes dead. "Just being realistic."

Tatiana sniffles. "Is there any way out?"

The woman snorts. "Out? You're dreaming. Once you're in, you're in for good. Unless Sylas decides to sell you to one of his clients who are even worse than he is."

We hardly have time to settle in before a dark elf servant enters the room, ringing a small bell. The other woman stand quickly to their feet. Tatiana and I are slow to mimic their movements, confused by what's going on.

"Mealtime," the servant announces, gesturing for another dark elf servant to begin passing out trays to receive the food on.

One by one, the dark elf plops down a meager serving of slop onto each of our trays. I'm the last one to receive a serving. When he gets to me, I grimace at what I'm seeing ooze onto my tray.

"These are just… table scraps," I remark quietly. "Isn't there anything better? Surely in a manor as rich as this one, there are better options for us."

The dark elf's hand swings out without warning, striking me across the face with a sharp, stinging slap. My cheek burns instantly, the force of the blow sending me stumbling backward. I bite down hard on my lip, refusing to let the tears well up in my eyes. The room falls into a heavy silence, the other women avoiding my gaze as if looking at me might draw his ire.

"You'll eat what you're given," he sneers, turning away and leaving the room without another word.

I stand there, frozen for a moment, the sting on my cheek a brutal reminder of my powerlessness. The dark elf's heavy footsteps fade down the hallway, leaving us in the suffocating silence of the small, oppressive room. The other women keep their heads down, too broken or afraid to offer any comfort or solidarity. The air is thick with unspoken despair, a palpable weight pressing down on all of us.

Refusing to cry, I swallow down the pain and clench my jaw instead, silently cursing that servant.

Tatiana is the first to break the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "Are you okay?"

I touch my cheek gingerly, wincing at the tender skin. "I'll survive," I mutter, forcing a bitter smile. "We've got bigger problems than a slap."

The woman who spoke earlier, the one with the dead eyes, glances up at me briefly. "You should learn to keep your mouth shut. It'll make things easier."

"Easier?" I scoff, sitting down beside Tatiana on the narrow bed. "Nothing about this is easy. But I'm not going to roll over and die."

Tatiana's eyes are wide with fear, but there's a glimmer of hope in them. "Do you really think we can get out of here?"

I glance around the room, taking in the hopeless expressions of the other women. "I think we have to try," I say, my voice firm. "We can't just accept this."

One of the older women, her hair streaked with gray, finally looks up. "You're new here," she says, her voice raspy. "You don't understand how things work. Sylas is powerful. He's not someone you can defy."

I meet her gaze, unflinching. "Powerful or not, he's still just one dark elf. And they can be beaten."

None of them agree with me, but that's okay. They don't know what I know.

Sitting down on my bed, I reach into my pocket and feel at the three crystals once more. The demon's crystals, a reminder of my deal with him.

Now that I've received a glimpse of what life is like under a dark elf, I'm convinced that this isn't the life for me. I deserve better. And I won't back down until I receive a life that I deserve.

With the demon's help, I might just achieve that.