Prologue

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The parlor was the most lavish room the girl had ever seen.

The crimson walls were crowded with painted landscapes and portraits only serving to make the room all the more suffocating. In fact, the girl saw, that there didn't seem to be one space of the room not occupied with a display of wealth.

A chandelier flickered with candles and crystals as it hung from the intricately carved marble ceiling, the corners were full of naked statues and plants that served no function besides adding to the stuffy atmosphere.

But worst of all, in the middle of the room sat a gold and red velvet loveseat. Three spectators sat- one woman and two men- eyeing the line of girls as if they were being presented a rare species of lizard.

Even the bartender, who made drinks for the guards at his counter, couldn't help stealing glances.

The girl pressed at her restraints, already bound a bit too many notches tight. The act made the metal bite into her skin, the stinging sensation made her close her eyes but yet she did not stop the action.

"108! Keep your eyes open. The ambassador will be here any moment!"

Mrs. Fagan, she didn't know her true name, made the girls eyes shot open in obedience. The woman had been the one who separated them from the others, bathed them, and the best of all- fed them a small meal of watered down vegetable stew and a stale piece of bread.

The woman was a wiry looking thing, her nose tip bowed toward the floor, as if her whole genetic line up was built to have all her features curled down looking at the world in disdain. She looked at 108 with particular disdain, the girl had spoken out against one of the captors on the initial day-the guards reward sat stinging on her cheek as a black and blue reminder.

But it was for the bruise, she had heard the guards speaking, that would hinder her price. Like a bruised peach at a market, she was last of the barrel to be picked. On that note, she decided she would slam her face repeatedly into the walls of the cell she had been in if she were returned. Anything to hinder her price, here she was a captive but being a captive was better than being owned.

The mahogany door swung open with a groan.

The room came to a standstill, the low conversations that had hummed through the room stopped abruptly as even the onlookers reverted their attention to the cloaked figure that had since entered.

The sight of him made girl 108 extremely uneasy, he was tall but that was the only personal trait that could be detected. Every part of his body was covered in black- even his face was masked with only two holes from his eyes being the only opening.

He strode into the room, a small gray goblin looking thing trailing behind him in a timid fashion. A house elf, girl 108 recognized. She had seen a few of them long, long ago. They were fickle creatures, always on the brink of a mental breakdown and for once the girl could somewhat relate to the creature.

"Ambassador, hope your travels went well." Miss. Fagan approached the man, her lips were curled in what could have been a smile- but her features were too cruel to give a whisper to any sort of joy.

She bowed her head lightly before gazing at the lineup of girls with a bit of pride as if looking upon a stable of purebred race horses. The girl swallowed hard and diverted her attention to the floor.

"We have a fine selection here for you today, it is such an honor to bestow upon you the first vassal of our collection."

The cloaked man nodded his head in politeness, but his mask face was soon turned to the girls.

"May I take a closer look?" He asked as though they would bite. Of course he was permitted, girl 108 didn't know a thing about him other than he was called the ambassador. What such title held or who held the title was irrelevant, but she was aware even in the short amount of time he had been in there it held significant importance.

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