He's My Beast (ON HOLD)

Ten: More Than Chains

The ball room was magnificent, that would never change.

The ceilings depicted the gods of our world in some scene from  their war filled history. I bet they were on the ceilings instead of the walls due to the fact that they were always supposed to look down on us humans. Similar to the way our masters looked down on us slaves.

All of the wooden fixtures and decoration adorning the walls, plus the walls themselves, were a bronze gold color. A reminder that Master Gaston and Mistress Victoria were the royalty in this house. They weren't even true royals, I don't even know if there are any of them left. Good sized, round tables were played around the outside of the room, leaving plenty of space for the hundreds of people to dance.

I may be stressing the number of people here, but to a slave girl who's never been in the presence of more then fifty people, this was a lot.

My eyes continued to drift from person to person, examining their luxurious clothes and fine jewels that they purposefully put on for show to show their status, myself drifting between many of these snobs as they danced and socialized. 

I could almost pretend that I was one of them.

Em had committed some sort of miracle with my hair. My brown locks were now curled into soft ringlets that surrounded my face while strands near my ears were pulled back in a clip at the back of my head. I still don't know how she managed this. The gown I was wearing somehow looked even more magnificent with all golden colors around me. Plus, at least to my knowledge, no one was wearing a shade of yellow quite as glorious as I was. I honestly believed that, tonight, I was a princess. 

Yet, no matter where I faced, I could always feel eyes boring into my skin. The red swipes across my face from my mistresses claws were still present, drawing attention to myself. And when their eyes landed on my face they would always eventually drift down to my throat.

I had almost forgotten about the chains on my wrists and the slim collar around my neck.

These weren't normal chains. The collar wasn't much of a surprise, that was just to show that we were slaves, not guests. It was a silver circlet of metal, so light I could barely feel it against my throat. The cuffs on my wrist, however, were a different story all together. They were the same silver color, yet contained a much deadlier purpose. An attending guest each had some button on their table that, when pushed, sent a shock through the closet slaves bracelets. Yet, my masters could also use it as punishment.

A jolt of electricity coursed through my arms as a guest, wherever they may be, alerted me that my presence was wanted at a table. I gulped down my gasp of discomfort and scurried out of the middle of the floor, ducking my head in an attempt to hide the band around my neck.  This was cruelty, giving us a taste at what a better life might look like, only to choke it back down with a brand of silver.

I silently halted and bowed my head in forced respect at the table that had called for me, clenching my teeth at their conversation, remaining so still a statue would be shamed.

"... Never know what the man is going to do next. He's already raised the taxes on the slave trade"

"Why must slaves cost so much, they're the dirt of this economy. Just this morning I had fifteen of them shipped off to my estate in the mountains, they're either slaughtered there or come back broken enough to actually follow orders without a sound"

I had heard about that, news traveled fast. Two of the slaves that had been sent were my friends, I doubt I'd ever see them again. My hands curled into fists clasped behind my back.

Another lady at the table snorted before chiming in, adding her own experiences with the 'dirt of this economy.' Apparently a few of hers hadn't learned sign language when they had arrived at her manor and would always whisper to each other during work. Their tongues were cut out the next day. I wanted to hurl.