Chapter 9: Exhibition Doll

The days at the Vasiliev mansion passed in a monotonous but relentless routine. Anne awoke before dawn, when the lights of the great palace were still off and only the servants walked its marble corridors. She learned quickly that here she was not a person, but just another cog in the wheel that kept the luxurious world of her owners running.

From day one, it was clear that she had no right to privacy or self-will. Everything in her life was carefully dictated: what she was to do, how she was to move, even how she was to breathe in the presence of the Vasilievs. A whisper too loud, a glance in the wrong direction, and the punishments fell like an avalanche.

-Walk straight, keep your head down, don't make a sound," the experienced maids repeated to her, with the same tone with which a child is taught not to stick her fingers in the fire.

Ana obeyed. It was the only thing she could do.

But while she was not expected to speak, she was expected to be seen.

The Vasilievs didn't treat her like a mere servant. They didn't ignore her as they did the other employees. They were showing her off.

It was the first time she was caught up in that perverse game when she was called to serve dinner in the main dining room. The mansion glittered in the light of the chandeliers, the gilded walls reflecting the glow of an opulence that Anne had never imagined. The aroma of expensive wine and freshly served meat hung in the air. The echo of elegant conversations contrasted with the world of silence and shadows from which Ana came.

-Ah, so this is the new one," commented Viktoria, Lucian's sister, with a sharp smile as she picked up her crystal glass. Her eyes ran up and down it with an appraisal that made Ana's skin crawl. Not bad.

Ana looked down. She knew better than to respond, that any misplaced reaction could cost her dearly.

-What's your name? -Viktoria asked, resting her chin on her hand, as if amused by her discomfort.

-Ana, miss," he answered in a whisper.

-Ana... -Viktoria savored her name as if she were tasting it on her tongue, deciding whether she liked it or not. How simple. How boring.

Laughter from the guests erupted around them.

Ana felt her cheeks burn, but she kept her composure. She couldn't show that it affected her.

-But he has a... charming air about him, don't you think, Lucian? -continued Viktoria, turning to her brother.

Lucian, who until that moment had only been watching silently, looked up from his glass. His eyes met Anne's for an instant, an icy clash of gazes that stole his breath. Then a half-smile appeared on his face.

-I suppose so," he replied casually, as if giving his approval to a decorative painting.

Anne's heart pounded. There was something in the way he looked at her that made her shudder. It was not interest, not even mockery, but something deeper, more calculating. As if he was taking mental note of her every move.

The conversation continued without anyone else noticing her, but Ana felt as if she had been exposed, dissected before everyone's eyes without her having the right to protest. She was not a person in that room. She was an ornament. An exotic curiosity in her world of porcelain and gold.

That was the first night she understood her new role within the mansion.

She was not a servant.

She was a show doll.