— "Sof!"
— "Yvonne, what are you doing here?" Sofia asked, opening the window to air out the stench of what had just happened.
— "One of those pigs at the tavern grabbed my ass and my chest," Yvonne muttered, helping her change the sheets.
— "Better than working here," Sofia retorted. "And you know all the men come just to see you and the twins."
She pointed to Yvonne's cleavage.
Emily, who also ran the tavern, forced the girls to dress provocatively: long red dresses, deep necklines that left little to the imagination.
— "And what about you? What happened?"
— "I had to listen all night to that baron whipping those two fools."
— "You mean the fat one with two daughters?"
Yvonne nodded.
— "We have to get out of here. The only city near Ikrea is two days away by horse or carriage."
— "We've never even left these walls. We don't even know the way."
Sofia finished arranging the pillows. She thought about sitting on the bed—then shook her head in disgust.
— "I don't like the way that butcher looks at you."
— "No villager can touch us. Mr. Habe protects us."
— "Protects us? You're a tavern maid and I'm a brothel servant. I don't trust him."
The head maid's voice cut through the air.
— "Sofia, come with me."
— "Yes, ma'am," Sofia replied when they were far enough from the others.
— "Important people are coming today. I want the rooms prepared perfectly and the girls dressed properly. After that, disappear with the other two. I don't want the clients to see you."
Viper. Old viper.
Sofia hated almost everyone at Ikrea, except Yvonne, the blacksmith, and sweet Willow—
who had taken her own life two months earlier.
She had arrived in Ikrea twelve years ago with Derek, the blacksmith.
Since then, she had been treated as nothing more than a servant.
Now, at twenty-two, she longed for only one thing: to escape this hell.
She wanted to see the world.
Derek had spoken to her of the capital, of its people, of distant lands.
Tap tap tap…
She ran quickly up the wooden stairs. She had to clean one of the largest, most decorated rooms—
full of perverse tools, dominated by a huge bed.
— "Did you hear? Apparently, important guests are coming tonight." whispered a female voice.
Sofia pressed her ear against the door.
— "We have to wear our best dresses," another added.
— "Please, leave me alone!"
Yvonne?
Sofia glanced through the window—
the butcher was gripping Yvonne's arm, trying to kiss her.
Her heart raced.
Thud thud thud! She bolted downstairs, nearly falling.
— "Leave her alone!"
— "Mind your own business," the man growled, groping Yvonne's chest.
Sofia shoved him, but he was too strong.
Crash! He threw her violently to the ground.
— "Stay away from my friend!" she shouted, pulling a dagger from her bag.
— "Stay away!"
— "Brave little thing…" he sneered, shoving Yvonne aside to focus on Sofia.
He grabbed her wrist—
Clang! the dagger fell to the floor.
He yanked her close, then slapped her across the face so hard she clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.
His hand tangled in her short brown hair, jerking her head back before hurling her to the ground.
Thud!
Everyone watched. No one spoke.
Yvonne begged him to let her go.
You'll pay for this…
— "Get up, come on."
— "I'm fine…" Yvonne whispered, helping her to her feet.
Sofia touched her reddened cheek, trembling.
— "I want to leave this place."
— "You're only eighteen… you're like a little sister to me. You deserve better than that stinking pig."
— "Thank you, Sofia," Yvonne murmured, hugging her.
Hug…
— "You're the only light in this place."
— "No… the light is you." Sofia answered, holding her close.
— "Beauty isn't just skin deep. They may look pretty, but once they open their mouths, they're gorgons."
— "I'd better get back to work before Emily makes a scene."
Sofia picked up the dagger and rushed away.
It was ten o'clock at night.
She had spent the whole day cleaning, cooking, helping the girls change—
and all she had eaten was a piece of bread and a sip of water.
She passed by the tavern.
Flick… flick… The candles lit up the inside.
Girls ran about with mugs of beer.
Behind the counter, Yvonne forced a smile at a customer.
Sofia clenched her fists.
— "Hang in there…" she whispered.
Outside, she lifted her eyes to the dark sky.
— "Good evening, Derek…" she breathed into the emptiness.
Derek had died three months earlier.
The only one who had treated her as human.
The only one who had defended her.
Now, she was alone.
Forced to protect herself.
His last words still echoed in her mind:
Run from this place.
Better to die escaping than to live here.
Live… live also for me.