"Well, well, well… look who it is."
Yvonne looked up at the newcomers. Her shoulders strained against her bindings as she peered through the mist.
Her former captors.
Roi and Radvid.
Her eyes twinkled, and she seemed to be smiling. The sight of it chilled Roi.
The smile was unnatural.
"Where's Nunvicks?"
"What makes you think Nunvicks did this?"
"He always ties his ropes in three knotted loops. And look—"
Roi followed the direction of the pointed finger.
"—he always leaves some meat out overnight to make jerky. He's around somewhere. I know it."
Radvid was determined to find their partner.
Roi, however, smiled faintly as he recalled why.
Nunvicks had not only swindled him of his yearly earnings, but had also snatched away his favorite courtesan. She was a picky woman—one Radvid had prided himself on being chosen by. Only for dear old Vick to cause a fallout between them and take her for himself.
"Come on. We've got to spread out and search."
Roi's small smile vanished instantly.
"Roi, let's go!"
Roi didn't move.
"What are you gawking at?" Radvid snapped.
Roi suddenly bolted forward. He stopped a few inches from a tree and emptied his stomach in one violent retch.
"You disgusting animal! What was that for?!"
"Didn't yo—who could've—this to—him—"
Roi spoke rapidly between breaths, hiccupping as he struggled to steady himself.
"What are you on about?" A twinge of worry crept into Radvid's annoyance.
"Nunvicks."
"Yes, yes—what about him—"
Radvid stopped mid-sentence. His eyes widened.
Roi bent over again, still retching, unable to calm his insides.
Radvid went slack. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto them.
Roi joined him moments later, kneeling beside him. He refused to look up.
Up at that thing.
Laughter pierced the solemn silence.
Both men turned.
Yvonne was laughing—unceasing, breathless.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, her brows arched in fear. And yet, she laughed on.
Radvid eventually grew tired of it.
He stood and strode toward the Yunvern where she was tied. With a single strike to the back of her head, he knocked her unconscious using a smoldering log taken from the fireplace.
"What are we going to do now?" Roi asked. His face looked sunken, the dark circles beneath his eyes more pronounced.
Radvid walked over and patted his shoulder.
"Let's deliver the orders first," he said softly.
"But what abo—"
"We'll come back for it." Radvid cut him off, gesturing toward the Yunvern before turning away.
Roi cut the ropes. Yvonne collapsed sideways, her body crunching against leaves and dirt.
He hoisted her over his shoulder and followed after Radvid, walking briskly—never daring to look back.
"Over here! Servants for sale!"
"Male! Female! We've got them all, so step up and make your call!"
The containment area reeked of sweat and urine. Females were kept in the front section, while the males were stationed at the rear of the iron cage. Only a thin plywood board separated the two groups.
Yvonne stirred.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she winced as the afternoon sun burned her skin. She felt hot and clammy. She wasn't the cleanest of girls, but she despised the state she was in. Days of travel without bathing—or even washing—had brought out the worst of her appearance.
"I need docile maidens. My last one was far too smart-mouthed."
The voice belonged to a woman dressed in a clean lime-green gown, a lace parasol resting delicately in her hand.
Yvonne studied her. Fair complexion. Glowing skin. The kind that came from being well cared for.
"Aye, miss. We've got submissive lasses here—won't give you any trouble at all."
The burly man responded quickly, softening his voice as much as he could manage. He flashed a smile of browning teeth.
"Very well. I'll take this one, that one, this one over here… and that one too."
Yvonne stiffened as the tip of the parasol prodded her. The woman's keen grey-blue eyes examined her closely.
"And this one as well."
Rage stirred within Yvonne. That familiar ache returned, demanding control.
She bit down hard on her tongue and lowered her gaze.
The lady smiled in satisfaction.
"Of course, miss. I'll prepare everything."
"House Blue Raven will send the remainder of your payment within the fortnight."
"Thank you, miss."
And just like that, she and her fellow girls were hauled off to be prepared.
"Yvonne! Is that you?" A familiar voice whisper-shouted.
Yvonne turned.
The voice belonged to the red-headed girl she had met on the night of her escape. Inora.
"Inora." She whispered back, relief flooded her chest. Without even knowing, she threw herself into an embrace.
Inora was taken aback but soon hugged her too.
"I missed you too." She smiled, patting Yvonne's brown hair.
"I thought you'd surely die. Seeing you run like that–" Inora shook her head slightly, "–like a maddened Yuko."
"Yuko?" Yvonne queried, raising her head to see her better.
"You know, those seers that have lost their senses." Inora replied.
"Come now, we must make haste. I'll tell you about Yukos later."
"Where are we going?"
"To prepare ourselves. We must be clean and fed well for our journey to Blue Raven."
The girls all washed themselves quickly in a general bathhouse. They were then given matching uniforms to wear. Their hair wasn't left out too. It was styled a certain way– tied up and pinned.
According to some girls there, the hairstyle changed as one advanced in their ranks. The uniform too changed when you've been upgraded to a special servant or even maid-of-honour–direct servants of the nobles.
Finally, they were given something to drink. A special servant handed them the cup and didn't leave until they have downed the last drop.
Some girls clutched their stomachs as they writhe in pain. Inora's face turned red and some red rashes appeared on her hand. They turned sky blue and took the shape of a sitting Raven. All the other girls looked at their palms and compared with each other.
The special servant left immediately.
Yvonne looked at her own hand. The rashes did appear. However, they turned black.
The black spots swirled around, pulsing and glistening.
Then it disappeared.
And no blue Raven was in sight. All she felt was heat rising in her.
Familiar Rage.