Making up Story

Lady Rosamund was pleased with the fear and uncertainty she could sense in her captive's gaze. She smirked, feeling her power and control over the situation. She relished in the feeling, taking pleasure in the fear and torment she inflicted upon the young woman before her.

"I expect you to obey me without question," the lady said with malice. "If you disobey me, or try to escape, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Gwendolyn answered softly.

"Good," the lady smirked. "Now, let's begin. I want to know everything about you. Your name, your family, your friends. I want to know it all."

Gwendolyn froze. She knew she had to say something to the lady, but revealing her true identity was out of the question. If the lady discovered who she really was, she would be put to death. Besides, even if she did, no one here would believe her anyway.

"What are you waiting for?" the lady asked, her voice filled with impatience.

Gwendolyn swallowed hard, her mind whirling, trying to think of something, anything to say.

"I... I don't remember," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The lady stared at her for a long moment, then scoffed, "What a pathetic excuse. You will tell me everything, or I will make you suffer a fate worse than death."

Gwendolyn couldn't help but notice how the lady's face turned even colder and sterner. She felt as if she was staring into the face of evil itself, and it made her shudder in fear.

"Speak!" the lady commanded, her voice booming.

"I... I can't," Gwendolyn stammered, her voice shaking.

"What did you say?" the lady growled, her eyes blazing with fury.

"I can't tell you," Gwendolyn answered, her voice trembling.

The lady stood up and grabbed her roughly by the hair. She leaned in, her breath hot against her ear, and whispered, "You will tell me, or I will torture you until you beg for death. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Gwendolyn croaked, tears welling up in her eyes.

The lady pushed her away, a cruel smile on her face. "Good. Then we understand each other. Now, speak."

Gwendolyn knew that her life depended on her ability to lie convincingly. Taking a deep breath, she began to weave her fabricated tale. A sudden memory of Beatrix flashed in her mind—a name she could use as a shield or a weapon, depending on how the conversation unfolded.

"My name is Beatrix," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm the daughter of a merchant from the kingdom of Vorostria. I was travelling to the city of Saebyrnhof to visit a friend when I was captured by bandits. They sold me to the slave traders, and that's how I ended up here."

The lady nodded, her expression unreadable. "What else?"

Gwendolyn continued, "I don't remember much of my childhood, but I remember that my mother was very kind and caring. She loved me very much, and she taught me how to read and write. I was a good student, and I loved learning. When I was old enough, my mother sent me to the best school in the kingdom, where I studied literature, history, mathematics, and science."

Part of her stories were valid, while the others were made up. Gwendolyn couldn't risk giving away any personal details that could lead the lady to her real identity.

"How interesting," the lady replied, her eyes glinting with malice. "So, you're an educated girl. That will certainly make things more interesting. Tell me, do you have any special talents? Can you play an instrument? Sing? Dance?"

Gwendolyn's throat was tight with fear, but she answered, "Yes. I can play the harp and sing."

"Good," the lady said. "You will entertain us tonight."

Gwendolyn was taken aback, and the lady seemed to notice her reaction.

"What's wrong, slave?"

"I don't understand."

"You will entertain us with your music," the lady repeated, her voice growing cold and stern.

"Yes, my lady," Gwendolyn murmured, her stomach twisting into knots.

The lady smirked, "I expect you to be entertaining and obedient. If you are not, you will suffer the consequences."

Gwendolyn couldn't imagine the horrors that would await her if she didn't obey the lady's orders. The thought made her shudder in fear.

"Now, go," the lady ordered, dismissing her with a wave of her hand. "Get ready for your performance. I expect you to impress me."

With her pulse pounding and her head spinning, Gwendolyn raced off. She knew she had to be strong even though she had no idea how she was going to make it through this.

Maven had told her that her survival depended on her ability to stay vigilant and to outsmart her captors. But, it wasn't easy. How could she remain alert and observant when every fiber of her being wanted to surrender to the fear and hopelessness that threatened to consume her?

As she was ushered out of the room by two servants, she wondered if her performance would be enough to appease the cruel lady.

She knew that being left alone in this place was out of the question; a servant would always accompany her, making sure she wouldn't run away.

Gwendolyn tried to focus her thoughts on a way to escape. She had to find a way out, or she would be trapped forever.

In her desperate attempts to escape, Gwendolyn considered asking the guards to help her, but quickly dismissed the idea. She was aware of the brutality and cruelty these men displayed, especially towards the slaves, so she knew they wouldn't be likely to help her.

She had seen it firsthand and shuddered at the thought of falling into their hands.

Gwendolyn tried not to panic. She was determined to find a way out of her dire situation. But, as she was escorted back to her prison cell, her hopes faded.

The next hours went by in a blur, as Gwendolyn tried to prepare herself for the evening ahead. She knew she had to perform flawlessly, or the consequences would be severe.

The sun had already set, and the night was dark and starless. Gwendolyn stood in her cell, her body trembling with fear and panic as she waited for the guards to come and get her.