The journey back to the manor was long and silent, the weight of the day's events hanging heavily in the air. The carriage rattled over cobblestone streets, the steady clatter of wheels filling the tense silence between Virgil and Akita. She sat opposite him, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery, her expression unreadable. Virgil, on the other hand, watched her intently, his mind a whirl of thoughts and questions.
As they neared the manor, Virgil's thoughts shifted to the night ahead. He had no intention of making Akita's life comfortable, yet he couldn't deny a certain curiosity about her. There was a strength in her defiance, a fire that intrigued him. Tonight, he would allow her a small measure of comfort, a test to see how she would respond to his unexpected kindness.
The carriage finally arrived at the manor's grand entrance. The heavy doors opened to reveal the dark, imposing interior, the shadows dancing in the flickering candlelight. Virgil stepped out first, offering Akita a hand. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, her fingers cold and reluctant. He led her through the winding corridors, the silence only broken by the soft echoes of their footsteps.
As they reached his chambers, Virgil opened the door and gestured for her to enter. The room was vast and opulent, dominated by a large, canopied bed draped in dark silks. The walls were adorned with tapestries and paintings, and a fireplace crackled in the corner, casting a warm glow. On the floor near the bed, a thick, plush rug had been laid out, along with a small pile of blankets and a pillow. As she can see he changed up the scenery in his room making it more inviting ot his liking.
"You'll sleep here," Virgil said, his voice cold and detached. "I don't want you ruining my sheets with your filth. Yes you have taken a bath but who knows where your body has been outside of the manor. Better to be safe than sorry little kitten."
Akita's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and resignation, but she said nothing. She stepped towards the makeshift bed on the floor, her movements hesitant. Virgil watched her closely, noting the tension in her posture.
He turned towards a small table set with food and drink. The sight of it made Akita's stomach growl, a painful reminder of how little she had eaten. Virgil gestured to the table. "You may eat," he said, his tone almost dismissive. "Consider it a reward for your good behavior today. I thought you was going to cause trouble but you surprised me."
Akita hesitated for a moment before approaching the table. She glanced at him warily, as if expecting some sort of trick. When he made no move, she quickly grabbed a piece of bread and began eating hungrily. Virgil watched her, his expression one of mild disgust.
"Slow down," he said sharply, his voice cutting through the quiet. "You'll choke if you eat like that."
Akita glanced up at him, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She slowed her pace, chewing more carefully, but the hunger in her eyes remained. Virgil's gaze lingered on her, a strange mix of emotions flickering in his cold, red eyes. There was a part of him that felt a strange satisfaction in seeing her so vulnerable, yet another part of him felt an unexpected pang of pity.
After a few minutes of silence, Virgil spoke again, his voice softer but still commanding. "How old are you?"
Akita paused, her hand hovering over a piece of fruit. She seemed to consider the question carefully, her eyes distant. Finally, she answered, her voice quiet. "Eighteen."
Virgil nodded, filing away the information. "Eighteen," he repeated, as if testing the sound of it. He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a thoughtful expression. "You've been through a lot for someone so young," he observed, his tone almost casual.
Akita's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and pain, but she said nothing. Virgil's gaze sharpened, his curiosity piqued. He leaned forward, his voice taking on a more probing tone. "The scars," he said, gesturing to the faint marks on her arms, neck and body. "Where did they come from?"
Akita stiffened, her eyes darting to the floor. For a moment, she seemed to struggle with herself, her fingers clenching around the edge of the table. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "The slave estates," she said, her tone flat. "They...they weren't kind to the slaves."The... the owners, they weren't kind either. They used whips and chains to keep us in line. These scars are from the punishments I received when I disobeyed. I fought my way out serval times only to be captured and abused by my very masters and mistresses"
Virgil's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. He had expected as much, but hearing it from her lips made it all the more real. The cruelty of the slave trade was no secret, but it was something he had never given much thought to. Now, faced with the living proof of its horrors, he felt a strange, unfamiliar emotion—something akin to guilt.
He pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. He needed to break her, to make her submit. But how far could he push her before she broke completely? It was a delicate balance, one he intended to master.
He stood up, moving towards her with slow, deliberate steps. Akita tensed, her eyes following his every move. Virgil reached out and tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes were cold and calculating.
"You're my property now," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "And I expect obedience. If you try to escape, if you defy me, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
Akita stared at him, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and defiance. She didn't answer, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes. She wouldn't submit easily; that much was clear. But Virgil was patient, and he was willing to wait.
He released her chin and stepped back, his expression unreadable. "You may finish your meal," he said, his voice reverting to its usual cold detachment. "And then you will sleep. Tomorrow, you'll have more tasks to complete around the manor. Consider it your new routine. And remember, any disobedience will be met with punishments."
With that, he turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. Akita sat there for a moment, staring at the closed door. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a reminder of her precarious situation. She knew she had to be careful, to bide her time. But she also knew that she couldn't give up. She would find a way to escape, no matter the cost.
As she finished her meal, the flames in the fireplace flickered and danced, casting long shadows on the walls. The night was silent, save for the soft crackling of the fire. Akita lay down on the makeshift bed, pulling the blankets around her. The floor was hard and cold, a stark contrast to the comfort of the bed just a few feet away. But she didn't mind. She had endured worse.
As she closed her eyes, her thoughts drifted to the future. She didn't know what lay ahead, but she knew one thing for certain: she would never stop fighting. No matter how many times she was knocked down, she would get back up. She would survive, and one day, she would be free. The weight of consequences was heavy, but it was a burden she was willing to bear. For now, she would endure, and she would wait. Her time would come.