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One
Rosalie
Red marks covered my wrists where the chains had worn down my skin. The magical dampeners turned me from a wild storm into a useless kitty cat. Two weeks I had been locked in this wagon, traveling to the magical city of Farrow’s Gate where I was to be offered to the city’s magistrate, Lord Demious. A man whose high magic was as twisted as his black heart.
The barred window allowed me to view my temporary home. The slave trader who bought me only told me where I was going, not why. Traders could be devilish creatures with their bizarre wands and whips of freezing. If I hadn’t been on the brink of starvation and weak, I may have slaughtered that pity of a troll where he stood.
But I had no choice, no say at all. In a desperate plea to save my family’s home, I trusted the wrong person, and now . . .
Cerulean grass covered the estate grounds, swirling with vibrant hues of violet wildflowers. The stories surrounding Farrow’s Gate always spoke of its ethereal beauty and how the wild magic in the land morphed the area into a kaleidoscope of colors.
All along the road leading to the white brick mansion, glimpses of iridescent butterflies and birds with gossamer wings flew in and around the magical wood. A large monarch, bigger than my fist, flew alongside the carriage, leaving a trail of glittering sparkles in its wake.
If I was going to be forced to live here, at least it was pretty.
When we arrived at the mansion, servants came to meet us. Two human girls rushed to the wagon, where they stood and waited. The driver unlocked the door and helped me out.
In the top corner window of the mansion, near a weeping willow with the prettiest lavender flowers, stood a man, watching. Being too far to see clearly, I could only make out his dark hair.
“Your new home,” the driver said, and led me to the two girls. “This is Ara and Luna. They’ll bring you to your quarters.”
I wanted to be angry with the driver for leaving me here, but he was just a delivery man. I was the fool who trusted a troll wearing overalls and a top hat.
The servants smiled, though the taller one held a hand to her nose, my stench wafting on the afternoon breeze. Even I couldn’t stand to be around myself, the odor of piss and other things clinging to my ragged dress.
Mouthing a sorry, I followed the two girls, who looked like twins with their matching blonde buns, mouselike features, and navy dresses, inside the regal home.
Question after question buzzed through my mind as we walked down the shimmering blackish golden marble corridors. Every wall decorated in lavish oil paintings and stuffed heads of wild creatures, ranging from an elk to the baby drakes that roamed far beyond the Crescent Mountains. My heart sank when I saw a massive black spiral horn. Even a wild thing like me knew how rare and mighty a night unicorn was—and this bastard had slaughtered it?
Wicked. Just like the stories.
The twins brought me to a less decorated wing on the east side of the house. I assumed these were the servants’ quarters or something less appealing. Honestly, I was happy just to be out of the wagon and on my feet. Two weeks of sitting in my own urine made any place more appealing than that horrid wagon. I could only imagine what I smelled like.
We entered a bedroom, bigger than I expected with a few floor length windows surrounded by cream drapes dotted with tiny rosebuds. The beige fluffy blanket on the four-post canopy bed added to the softness of the room. A table and two chairs sat adjacent to one of the windows. Fresh pink peonies had been placed in an ivory vase, igniting the room with floral magic.
“We’ll run you a bath and come back to help you dress. You’ll be brought to dinner where you’ll meet Lord Demious,” the taller twin said.
“Dinner? Do the servants normally eat with the master?”
They looked at each other, then at me. “No, my lady, but you are not a servant.”
My heart thumped against my chest. If I wasn’t bought as a slave, what were his intentions?
Before I could ask any more questions, the girls finished drawing the bath and left me alone. I peeled off the grime covered clothes I’d lived in for weeks and stepped into the warm water. For a moment, I forgot about everything else and let the water soak into my skin. I couldn’t remember the last time I had bathed. Though I was sure it was in a cold stream somewhere near the wilds of Haven.
While my home was only a two day’s ride from Farrow’s Gate, the troll had brought me further east before handing me off to the driver who brought me here. Based on the passing glimpses of the road, we hadn’t traveled on the main merchant roads which made me wonder why. If Lord Demious had bought me for whatever reason, why wouldn’t the driver take the shortest route?
Taking the soap, I rubbed my skin, revealing the pale ivory. Mother had always commented on my fair skin and crimson hair. A perfect doll. Even though Mother saw my beauty as a blessing, I didn’t. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle the mop of knots, but failed miserably.
“Need some help, my lady?”
I turned my head and saw the shorter twin, standing by the bed with a bundle of clothes.
“Yes, please. I don’t think I’ll ever get these out,” I said and pulled at my long hair.
She nodded and quietly sat on a stool behind me, leaving my dinner attire on the bed. “Relax and I’ll take care of this. Luna is preparing your clothes for dinner.”
I closed my eyes and leaned back while Ara pulled my hair and dumped a cool liquid on it. Taking a comb, she ran it against my scalp and down, breaking the knots and doing it with a soft touch. It didn’t take long for my hair to be completely combed and cleaned.
