My eyes flutter open. I look my room over, feeling the hay-filled bed below me, and breathing in the air. Oh, yes, last night's dream was not just a dream. This nightmare is real. I look over at the sleeping child. She breathes are deep and even peaceful. Morgan, her name was Morgan. I sit up and rub my face, groaning in my groggy daze. Morgan then wakes up with a start, wide-eyed as if she hadn't just been sound asleep. Goodness, what she must have been through.
"It's alright now. You're safe," I promise Morgan, "I'm not going to hurt you,"
"Why?" Morgan wonders, "Who a-are you-," she stammers, and she yipes at a pounding on the door.
"Ecgh, wake up!" shouts perhaps the most irritated, snooty woman's voice. I feel an immediate repulsion, but I'm in no place to ignore someone here. I rush for the door, and these two come waltzing in unwelcome. They gaze about my room, looking at it with wrinkled noses and loathing scrutiny. Their dresses are like mine but beige, matching each other.
"You're Jade?" asks the lean tallest girl with long blond hair framing a narrow face. Her frame is thin like Helga's but built by lean muscle from labor and a proper diet.
"Yes," I answer. The two girls look at each other, eyebrows raised. One of them just snickers as if sharing some unspoken joke.
"You and the mutt are to help us out today, so let's go. I am Jina," she introduces herself.
"And I am Adrianna, but do not speak to us unless you are spoken to. Especially in front of Tristen," instructs the other, "The last thing we want is to be associated with you any more than we must," Adrianna adds. I glance at Morgan, who follows the girls without a moment's hesitation. The two lead us across the yard. Folks passing by head to the kitchens for breakfast. I watch for the two to follow them, but we're not. We're going straight into working without any breakfast. Whatever comfort or protection Tristen was offering was taken away before I even knew I had it. Eyes linger in our direction. They're staring at Morgan.
"Where are we going?" I wonder, and Adrianna shoots a sharp look at me.
"Right," I mutter under my breath. I follow to the other side of the kitchen, pass several other cabins toward the largest of them. I expect this one to belong to Tristen. It stands two stories, and the inside has been well decorated. I'm not sure how I missed this before. Perhaps if I'd behaved and held my tongue, I'd be living here. Now I'm scrubbing the bathrooms. Morgan follows, collecting linens and sheets from the rooms for Adrianna, who sits on the couch playing with her hair. I pause mid-stroke. My arms ache, and the smell of floor polish is starting to hurt my head. It has a rather strong piney smell that I've never had the fortune to afford.
"Why have you stopped working?!" Adrianna demands, glaring over her shoulder. I look back to the floor, continuing work, hoping she'll just leave me alone.
"I was taking a break to breath-," I begin when something strikes my back. "GAH!" I cry out. My jaw hangs open, and I groan as pain radiates across my back. The sting lingers, aching. Another blow has me screaming. I glance up to find Jina hovering over me. Someone's smacked. I find the strength to look up. It's Morgan, they've turned on her, too. She's so young. Morgan goes running. Adrianna grabs Morgan's collar. Caught, that wooden club falls. Morgan hits the floor at their feet. Adrianna bounces the club in her hands in anticipation, two of them smirking.
"Stop it! Stop it!" I cry out, "Hit- hit me," I plead. "Hit me instead," and the two turn with the most wicked gleam in their eyes. I crawl forward, staring down at the floor. Tears start to run down my face.
"Are you sick?" Jina laughs, holding her stomach.
"Who cares, she must be punished. She must pay for her treachery," Adrianna decides.
"Treachery?" I murmur.
"Standing up for a werewolf, that's absurd!" Jina agrees, "Maybe she's just stupid," Jina suggests, which caused both of them to break out in a heap of giggles. Arianna's face falls serious.
"I hear she's a sneaking harlot," Arianna she sasses.
"You shut your mouths," I spit at her, and Jina screeches. Her hand smacks me across the face sending me reeling. The blow stings. I'm stunned breathless. Jina backs off, slowly, but her breath shakes heavily. I gasp at the burning in my face while I start to pick myself up. I look to Adrianna. She's backed up halfway across the room. Her fingers run through her wavy auburn hair over and over. Anxiety spreads across her taut face.
"Jina, Jina, Jina," Tristen calls. His feet glide across the wood floor, silently with ease. He waltzes straight pass Morgan, Adrianna, and finally me all the way up to Jina. "I don't like it when my ladies fight amongst each other. Would you like to meet the last one's fate?" he threatens her, his lips inches from her face. He leans forward, grabbing a handful of her hair and whisper something chilling in her ear. Her face drops, and eyes widen.
"Do not call me your lady. I am not your mistress," I call out, bringing Tristen's attention this way. Tristen straightens up, coming for me now. Everyone quiets now. I pick myself up and hold my ground. He sighs, and I feel his warm breath, reeking of alcohol, rustles my hair.
"I own this farm and everything on it. Including you," Tristen declares.
"Believe what you will. If it helps, thou sleep," I whisper, lifting my eyes to meet Tristen's hazel eyes. Oh, the rage that they hold! His knuckles rise. The girls gasp, and Morgan starts crying.
"To the kitchens. You have work to be tending to," Tristen decides. I drop my arms, still shaking before these people. "Thou are only alive because I say so," he states, "Now take that creature with you go to the kitchens," he orders. I scoop Morgan up and flee from his manor. The kitchen is any more hospitable, but at least they're quietly fixated into work. Plus, Morgan can rest. I watch her as I knead the dough. The child wraps herself in a burlap potato sack, sleeping near the fire of the brick oven. No one's said it, but they probably think she's not fit to cook. She might be young, but I know she's old enough to be here with me, kneading dough and washing vegetables. No, it's because she's a beast. She's not clean. It's peculiar that she wound up in a place like this. Werewolves have homes. They are legendarily protective. They are known for their loyalty, yet they've allowed one of their own young to end up here. I glance up from the table. My fingers work tirelessly into the dough. Leonel is here, in the kitchens. He strolls on in, still dressed in a work suite, admiring everyone's work. He stops to speak and laugh with Rico, their faces rosy. Leonel pats him on the back and continues on his way. I sigh in relief. The quiet kitchens, ignoring the side glances and ugly blunt stares, have been peaceful.
"You there. Come,"
"Oh dear," I jump at Leonel's voice. He motions for me to follow. I glance at Morgan, still fast asleep. I nod to myself. She'll be fine. She's not of my concern anyway, so I turn my back on her. I follow along with Leonel to the back of the kitchens. The darkness casts quite the long, lonesome shadows late in the night.
"Hello, Jade," Leonel greets me. He stands at attention, his arms crossed behind his back.
"I'd like you to work for me in the mornings. Tristen has tossed you to the side, so your working hours are available. I just ask for someone to clean the cabin," Leonel offers. I eye him. Knowing he's a close assistant to Tristen, I haven't any reason to trust him.
"And what's the deal? You wouldn't have brought me back here, late at night like this if there wasn't something else to it," I point out.
"I cannot have a child of the beast in my home. Not around my wife and my children," Leonel explains. I simply shrug it off. A chuckle surprises him. He raises his brows at me.
"What's the problem now? It matters not," I tell him.
"So, I've arranged for a caretaker," Leonel decides.
"I'm not attached to her," I snap at him, and dread fills the bottom of my stomach, "I- I'm sorry for raising my voice. Please, I am not attached to a beast," I promise him, and he points to something over my shoulder. I bite my bottom lip. She's standing right there, Morgan, peering around the corner.
"I know you're not a beast tamer," Leonel chuckles, "So, then you'll take the work?" he inquires.
"Yes, sire," I decide.
"Excellent. Misses Lluid, please," Leonel decides.
"Misses Lluid?" I wonder, looking back. She steps out from around the corner, too. I squint in the darkness, hoping the night is playing tricks on me. "Adriana," I realize.
"You'll be a good mutt, won't you?" Adrianna asks and before Morgan's yanked by the collar on a dog's leash. The kid stares, her dark green eyes holding me until she's pulled out of sight. Leonel smirks and chuckles behind me.
"Why her, why that monster of a woman?" I blurt.
"What do you care now? It's a beast's offspring," Leonel reminds me. He's not wrong, yet I'm so angry. Why am I so upset over her?
"She'll let the kid starve or let others hurt her," I point out, and Leonel just shrugs at me without a care. In fact, he looks all too smug and sure of himself, "How dare you," I snap at him.
"Hm, I didn't do anything," Leonel states with an innocent shrug. I take a deep breath, feeling heated now. What have I done? "You'd be wise to leave for the night," he warns me. I pull myself across the ground, slowly picking myself up to head back to my quarters. It's all I can do for the night, for now.