"...!"
Meredith awoke with a start, and tears pooled in her eyes immediately. The dream was so vivid that she could still feel her hands tingling after being examined by old Mr. Willinks. She hadn't realized it yet, but since she was but a small child, she had been groomed and conditioned by her mother and father. They had long sold her before taking her to the slave market.
The slave market!!
The events from the previous day replayed in her head, and her eyes widened with the realization that she was truly a slave now. But she was confused. Last she remembered, she was tied to a carriage, and now she was in a magnificent room she could not recognize.
Or maybe it was paradise? Was she dead? Was she one of the fortunate slaves?
Her eyes roamed around the room, and the first thing she noticed was its size. For someone who had lived in a tiny little house all her life, this room was so big that she had to turn her head to take in every side of it. She was certain that this room could contain fifty of her small house, with space left over.
The décor was out of this world—the most beautiful she had ever seen. Thick curtains sewn with gold threads hung from the windows, and the walls were coated white. Furniture that was clearly made by the best craftsmen was placed around the room.
And she? She was clad in the softest white dress she had ever seen.
The more she looked around, the more astounded she became. Surely this had to be paradise. Maybe she had died.
"Morning, sunshine," came a pleasant voice from across the room, and Meredith snapped her head so fast it would have fallen off if it wasn't screwed to her neck.
Leaning on the door, arms crossed and smiling, was Ezekiel, dressed to the nines in a black suit, matching trousers, and a fedora. He was about to head out but had returned to pick something from his room, only to find his new slave looking around with an expression so comical that he had to hold back his laugh.
Meredith paled when she saw him. She was supposed to be dead. This was supposed to be paradise. What was he doing here?
"Surprised?" He walked into the room and sat on the bed next to her. "Don't be. You are in my home, and this is my room."
His smile broadened when he got the reaction he wanted from her. She scrambled off the bed and was about to run when she fell flat on the floor with a dull thud.
Ezekiel chuckled. "The doctor warned that this would happen. You have not fully recovered," he said, sitting cross-legged on the bed without so much as making an effort to help her to her feet. Apparently, he was happy watching her twist and groan in pain.
Meredith gritted her teeth as she tried to stand, but when the dizziness hit her again, she settled into sitting on the floor. She couldn't feel her legs, and her head throbbed in ways she couldn't explain. Her body ached so much it felt as though she had been run over by a carriage, and she couldn't help the groan that escaped her.
Ezekiel tutted. Watching her grimace was both pitiful and pleasing to him, mostly because he was the cause of her pain.
"Weakling," he muttered, and she glared at him. He threw his head back, laughing, and it only served to annoy Meredith even more. She hated his laughter even more than she hated his smile. If only she could knock out those perfect pearly white teeth.
"Isn't this wonderful? A lord and his slave, right where they both belong."
Meredith finally noticed their positions. She was seated on the floor in front of him while he sat cross-legged on the bed, effortlessly exuding a domineering air. It made her sick to her stomach.
"What is your name?" Ezekiel asked, leaning back to make himself more comfortable on the bed.
"Meredith," she answered simply.
"Meredith…" he repeated slowly, as though hearing the name for the first time. "I don't like it. I will have to change it soonest." Meredith was utterly puzzled. What was so wrong with her name? It was a decent name and very easy to pronounce. "Well, I am Ezekiel Velmont. Lord Ezekiel Velmont. I am the Lord of Velmorea. Let's lay down some ground rules, shall we?"
Meredith's back straightened. She had thought she was bought by a foolish young man with money to waste, but it turned out he was a lord. She'd best pay attention to these rules.
"First, you cannot leave this room, except when I say so. And not just this room—you must never step out of the house."
Great. She was caged, Meredith thought.
"The mansion is big enough, so you can walk around if you feel like it, but you must never step out."
So, a very big cage…?
"Secondly, you answer and serve only me. You don't have to serve anyone else unless I ask you to."
"Lastly," he paused, leaning forward until he was eye to eye with Meredith, "do not try to run away. Don't even think about it. Am I understood?"
Meredith recoiled. It was as though she was reliving the moment he warned her not to run away back in Dintletown. It was a warning and a threat all at once, and his eyes still held the promise that she would suffer greatly if she tried.
Scared as she was, she didn't even realize when she nodded. Only then did she see his smile again. Somehow, she would rather see this annoying smile than the look in his eyes when he warned her.
"Good girl," Ezekiel said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now let's feed you something. Follow me."
He stood and walked away, but when he reached the door, he stopped and turned around.
"I just thought of a new name—Alba," he said, smiling with a reminiscent look in his eyes. "A fine name, is it not?"