This week’s flash fiction is about Leo’s parents and their first meeting. If you’ve ever wondered how his mother ended up stuck in such an awful situation, this answers that. Enjoy!
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She held her head as high as she could and looked him in the eye. Pale violet blended out into a deeper shade of indigo, and she stared just as much as he stared at her. A shiver went down her spine. No warmth lingered in his gaze. He was cold. Even colder than the slave traders who had brought her here.
The way station’s travelers bustled outside the large three room house where they were kept. None of them had any idea what went on in here. None of them knew that she would probably leave this building with one of the men here today. But she held her head high anyway and forced back the tears. No help was coming. No one on the outside could do anything even if they knew, and she couldn’t pull them into this mess. The men here were all powerful in their own rights, and none of them would think twice about killing anyone who intervened. She’d seen it happen.
The violet-eyed man stalked to her position in the line, his gaze never leaving hers. A challenge flared to life there, as if he were daring her to run from him, daring her to find out that she wasn’t so strong after all. She tensed and fought the urge to lower her gaze and to hide from him. He stopped right in front of her and reached out to grip her chin between his fingers. She flinched, and a cruel smile curved his lips. He could’ve been carved from marble for all he cared about how he made her feel. He was even worse than the men leaving with their new slaves. They might afford their slaves some dignity. This man? He would break anyone he chose, and she was the unlucky soul he’d chosen. He might not have bought her yet, but he would. She knew the look in his eye. Saw it all the time, in fact.
“What’s your name, girl?” His low voice washed over her in warm baritones.
His voice didn’t belong with a man so hard. She lowered her gaze, unable to stand staring into those cold, hard eyes.
His grip tightened. “Do not make me ask again. I will take you into one of the back rooms and beat it out of you.”
She bit back a cry at the sudden pain in her jaw. “It’s Anne, Master.”
“It’s Caladhor. From now on, you will address me by sir or by my name.”
She licked her lips. How was she to know which to use when?
“Is that understood?”
“How do I know which to use?” She glanced up at him.
“It depends on my mood. If I look like I might want to kill you, sir might be most appropriate. If I’m pleased with you, my name will do. You’ll figure it out. And if you don’t pick up quick…” He released her with a sharp smile. “Well, never mind that. I think you’ll figure it out quickly enough.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re figuring it out already.” His grin widened. “Though I don’t want to kill you just yet.”
Anne didn’t say anything. If he was hoping for a response, she wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. She would do what she had to in order to live, but she wasn’t going to let him break her. She wouldn’t lose her spirit no matter what he did to her. He walked off to talk to the slave traders, and she watched the gold change hands. Inside, she was numb now. When Caladhor returned and grabbed her by the arm, she let him drag her out of the house without a word. Like it or not, a new life awaited, and this man would be the one who decided her fate. She would make sure she found a way to have a good one.
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That’s it for this week, everybody! I hope you all enjoyed. If you have something specific you want me to write for this section of the blog, feel free to shoot me an email or leave a comment! I’m always happy to see new ideas and new writing prompts, particularly if they’re ones that would be more interesting to you all!
