PANDORA'S BOX ▷ s.rogers [2]

(9) A LITTLE UNSTEADY

"REMEMBER YOUR WORTH, CHILD."

Eris squared her shoulders. The woman in front of her didn't have a single emotion in her eyes. Her blonde was pulled back tight against her skull. Her face was blank. Cold.

She wasn't a child.

But Eris swallowed those words.

"Madame," she said. They were the only words that were allowed to leave her tongue. No matter what was asked, no matter what was demanded.

Eris knew better.

Still, blue eyes narrowed sharply at her tone. "Control, child."

She lifted her jaw higher. The Madame's expression turned dangerous. Eris didn't even have a chance to react before a backhand sent her face snapping sideways.

"Control, child."

"I'm not a child."

"You're weak. Emotional. A child."

The words stung. Eris licked her lips and tasted blood. But the sharp, metallic taste grounded her. Brought her out of her head and into reality.

She inclined her head and shut her mouth.

"Emotional," the Madame repeated. "There's a reason you were sent to me."

Her mind went a million different places at the words. Memories of a cold chair— pain. Dark rooms, barked orders in German. Pain. Eris furrowed her brows. 

"Why was I sent here?"

Another backhand sent her face snapping the other way. Eris tasted blood again. This time, inside of her mouth.

She'd bitten her tongue.

But despite the action, the Madame regarded her almost softly. Or, at least, as softly as the woman's face ever got. Studying her like a machine malfunctioning.

"You lack control, Pandora."

Eris was afraid to answer for a moment. But the Madame nodded, ever so slightly.

She took her chance.

"Did I... Did I do something wrong?"

"You weren't complaint."

That was something wrong. Deep shame burned in her gut and Eris lowered her gaze. Suddenly, she felt like she deserved the blows. The taste of blood was a welcome one. "I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry, child."

The answer was sharp. She looked back up. Blue eyes blazed.

"Never be sorry. Never feel emotion. That is weakness."

Eris clenched her jaw and raised her jaw again. She bit back the urge to apologize again, swallowing the retort like poison in her lungs. She didn't know why she felt the urge to apologize. To get down on her knees and grovel.