CHAPTER 8- The Kingdom

Dark humor,

and darker clothes.

~ Unknown

***

 Medusa gazed ahead the dark castle. The gloomy sky above hovered in eeriness, a foreboding sign of the danger that lay ahead. Those clouds towered above the tallest tower that touched the thick clouds.

 It was marbled in frightenings and sheer beauty of landscaping. The palace was majestically built in grandiose but devoid of light and flocked in strange birds roaming around the towers. Although it looked a bit day-lish outside the village, but in the castle ground, it was nighty.

The castle loomed in a rectangular shape and a monumental structure. It had three round towers on each corner at different height. The walls were obsidian and the windows were made of glass with the curtains shifted to one side symmetrically.

 The part of the castle they were brought to seemed different. Not havens full of flowering fragrance were smelt. Nor even a tiny uproots of flower or grown tree could be spotted. The place looked dead and empty.

 Medusa's eyes were seen on one place upon her arrival. A place where ravens and blackbirds roamed at the tallest tower, few seated on a particular window at the rooftop. But when her cold eyes loomed the tower much longer, they all flew.

 The Lord's chamber.

 A tower where even the living wasn't alive to tell the story of their encounter. A den ghosts roamed in creepiness. With walls covered with deceit and lies, blood stains that had been tough to have been unnoticed. Only Medusa could see this through its history.

 She smirked internally in satisfaction as dark thoughts imposed her mind. One thing Medusa was sure of was that she was certainly going to enjoy her stay.

.

 "For the duration of your servitude, you are bonded to His Highness," A woman in her late thirty's spoke, addressing the newly brought slaves. They all wore a sack-like garment.

 "Your freedoms are restricted, movements are forbidden unless an order is passed. You wouldn't receive the level of justice in courts that a non-indentured person would receive." She passed glances at each faces, before speaking. "You will be assigned duties that must be commenced with immediate effect. Sooner or later, a grand celebration would uphold here in the palace to welcome the arrival of Lord." She announced.

 "Slaves, you would be punished for laziness and getting late to the fields. Being inconsistent is one thing that his highly prohibited. Punishments will befall for defying the authorities, attempting escape, and for a number of other reasons." Her voice was stern at the last sentence.

 "Whippings, torturing, imprisonment or death would be fated to your poor souls the day you decide to disobey orders and break the rules." She concluded with finality.

 "Any question?" She asked the slaves who had their heads lowered when she spoke, lifted at the question.

 A girl slowly raised her hand a bit shaken.

 Feeling irked by the girl's presence and her unsettling fear, the woman sighed, stirring a glare to her face. "Speak." She ordered.

 The girl jerked at her tone but regained composure after taken silent breaths.

 "Ma'am-"

 "Do I look like a sixty year old worthless old woman?" She bickered in annoyance, glaring at the young girl who referred to her as ma'am.

 The woman looked more than her late thirties. She had a dark scar at the right side of her cheeks and raw patches. Her face was covered with wrinkles that gave an exact copy of an evil stepmother. With short brown hair and flaring nostrils that expressed her anger, she shot her a deadly look.

 "I just asked a question," she threw a cold glare at them. "Do i…" she paused, "… look like an old freak? Or precisely, ragged dogs of your worthless mothers?" She flared, walking to where the girl stood until she blocked her view. "Tell me, do I?!"

 The girl flinched at her harshness and reluctantly shook her head.

 "Don't you have mouth, or are you dumb?" the question came out with a low growl and she shook her head again.

 "N-no ma'am. I mean-"

 Before she could correct her words, a slap cut through them, harsh and resounding.

 "How dare you refer me as ma'am?!" 

 The girl shook her head tremendously, holding the side that she was slapped. Tears threatened to fall, but she bit her lips to control it.

 "You shall refer me as keeper Aelin," She introduced with a powerful tone. "For I am the keeper of this field." The position of a keeper was one of the lowest positions in the palace, but of course, she boosted with grace like she was given a title in the council.

 The keeper then frowned. "Bad slaves would be whipped; upstarts peasants who dare challenge the crown of Dragsholm would be killed. And that is the end of it!" She raised her voice to be acknowledged by all.

 "I'm I clear?"

 "Yes, keeper!"

 "To the field!"

***

A/N; Bear with me that this chapter is short. I'll try and increase my word counts.