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I rip my gaze away from the sunken eyes reflecting back at me and cross my room to my door. I pause with my hand on the handle, leaning in to listen for any sound outside in the hall. It’s not as late as I usually wait, so most of the servants are still moving about the house. It makes it risky to leave, but I can’t stomach another minute inside these four walls.
When the footsteps outside my door retreat, I slip out into the empty hall. I move quickly, knowing that the others have already heard about what’s happened tonight and many will want to get a look at me. I’m nothing more than a spectacle to them.
I’m so used to moving through the corridors at night without being seen that I can almost anticipate when someone is coming. Between taking a winding path out to the back gardens through often unused halls and ducking into alcoves when I hear footsteps or voices, I finally make it to the glass door at the back of the manor without anyone seeing me.
As far as any of the servants know, I’m still in my room. And when I come back later, they will all be tucked away and none the wiser. I know the guard rotation so well that the gaps are easy to slip through.
Breaking away like this is the only thing that has kept me alive.
The night air is cool against my heated skin, and I sigh as I suck in deep breaths. As the door clicks shut behind me and I step away from the dreaded manor, the anxiety and sorrow that has weighed me down for days starts to melt away.
Tipping my head back, I look up at the stars, careful to stand out of sight of the door. Like this, when there’s no one else around and all I see is the gorgeous night of possibilities ahead of me, I remember why I came to Milthar. These moments were what was promised, and for right now, I’m going to allow myself to forget they aren’t my reality.
Instead, I hurry across the dark yard toward the vines coating the wall. The flourishing plants have kept anyone from noticing the hole in the fence behind them. Not that anything comes in through it. But it is my way out.
I manage to get through the tight squeeze without tearing my clothes or skin, and as soon as I step off Mosar’s property, a smile finds me.
“It’s going to be a good night,” I whisper, letting the soft music of the city down the hill fall upon me.
Then I start my trek down to my favorite place in this world – the Broken Horn Tavern. Where minotaur and humans are welcome and Mosar won’t dare set foot.
My one happy place – something I really need tonight.
I can only hope it holds enough excitement to wipe this night from my memory.
2
KYRA
The tavern is busy, which is to be expected. It’s a seedy place on the outskirts of town, and bar fights are as common as the ales they pour. For some reason, that adds to its appeal. It’s easy to get lost in it, to forget that outside of this tavern we all have shitty lives waiting on us.
I slip in through the thick crowd easily. My slender frame allows me the ability to move through nearly undetected, and when I spot a familiar woman behind the bar with sun-kissed skin and a thick braid swinging down her back, I grin.
Sliding into the stool across from her at the end of the bar, I prop my hands up under my chin just as she turns around. Nova’s eyes widen, and her movements stutter. It’s only then that I remember how appalling my face must look right now.
Finally, she jerks herself out of it, handing off the drink she was making to a patron before turning to fill a glass of water that she pushes in front of me.
“What the fuck happened?”
I wince at her words, and even more so as she leans in to inspect my face. Nova is no stranger to the abuse I face. I’ve definitely come in here looking much worse so I just shrug and sip the water, not realizing until now how parched I’ve been until now.
She sighs, stepping away to fill more drink orders, and my mood is already souring. So much for a night out.
Nova pops back up with a torn piece of hard bread, and I greedily take it from her. When we first met, I’d try to be polite and decline it. I didn’t want to take what I’d presumed to be her rations, but she is treated far better than I am. Her healthy figure and glowing skin is a sign of that.
I rip it into pieces, popping them in my mouth as Nova wipes down the counter, cocking an eyebrow as she gives me the look – the same one that a mother gives a child when she knows that they are full of shit.
“I spilled his fucking water,” I finally grind out without looking at her. My skin is hot beneath her gaze, and my stomach flips as I spit the words out, my hunger and anger warring at who gets precedent.
Finally, I can’t take her silence any longer and I finally look up. Nova’s expression is soft, and I hate that more than anything. I don’t want her pity. I’m working toward my freedom just as she is.
But while Nova is gaining real life skills as a barkeep for a minotaur who doesn’t beat the shit out of his workers, I am barely scraping by as a servant. A sigh works its way through my chest, and I hang my head. My life is so fucked.
“Kyra…” Nova even seems at a loss for words, which is rare. She’s stern, cunning, and very maternal. It’s why she does so well running this bar. “You need to get out of that contract.”
It’s not the first time she’s said it, and it’s certainly not the first time it’s crossed my mind. There’s no way for me to, though.
I shake my head. “How?”
