A tale of a girl who lived two different lives but experienced the same pain in both. The story of the unknown second princess of the Obelian Empire, Athelinda De Alger Obelia. Her life story of becoming a slave from the moment she was born to being...
It's been 5 years since the count picked me up from the meadow. In those five years, the count treated me like a slave. despite knowing I am of royal blood by my eyes. When I started to be able to walk I was immediately order to start labour. I would be forced the sweep the floors of the long hallways, dust the many windows in the house. Once I was able to speak I was forced the serve and entertain the count and his son. I would be slapped, beaten, whipped, yelled at if I made a single mistake. There were also countless times when the count would be in a bad mood and I would be his relief. The same would go for his son who is only a 2 year older than me. his son tormented, bully and beat me if he so felt like it. I couldn't do anything. I felt weak. Vulnerable. But what could I do.
I'm currently, sweeping the floors in the floors in the count's office. I watched in the corner of my eyes as the count cackled whilst looking at the documents in his hands. A crazy, psychopathic look in his eyes that never failed to remined me of the last moments I had with my 'boyfriend' in my previous life. "What are you so happy about father?" asked a boy. He sat on the sofa in the middle of the office, sipping on juice and munching on snacks. I hated that boy. Hated his voice. Hated the way he treated me. I hated everything about him. But the one thing I hated most was how I couldn't do anything to him. He was the precious, spoiled son of the count. Dhanesh Clair Albert.
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"Do you remember the slaves that I sent to the slave auction. I just received a hefty amount of money for those worthless kids" laughed the count. An expression of pure disgust made it's way to my face as I heard the counts words. Luckily my hair covered my face, or else they would have saw it and given me a beating. I hate the count just as much, or even more than his son. He is the reason why I am in the damned place. Why I get at least 20 lashes per day. As much as I hate Dhanesh, I hate his father even more. He is the reason behind all my pain and suffering for the past 5 years. Count Haile Landry Albert.
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"You!" pointed Dhanesh "Clean this up" he commanded. circling his fingers above the messy table filled with baked goods. I silently nodded my head, before gently placing the broom down and walking over to the table. "You idiot!" yelled Dhanesh raising his hand. Slap. "You have audacity to not respond to your superiors when given an order! Do I need to give you another lesson" he continued. I still said nothing, I didn't react nor make a noise when he slapped me. I had gotten used to the abuse. "Tch. Useless Bitch" tched the count, glaring at me. "Get lost, you worthless fool. you clearly can't do the simplest things like following orders." spat the boy. Once again I just nodded my head and silently left the room with my hand hung low. Before leaving the room I heard the young master Dhanesh say "I apologize that she ruined your good mood father" hint of sincerity and empathy in his voice. It made me sick to my stomach. "It's not your fault son. It's her fault for being so disobedient. I'll have to order another set of lashings for her" sighed the count. It seems like I will be getting another set of lashes today.
