I threw on the grey silk dress that had been hanging from my wardrobe. I dripped over my figure, falling down silky straight, like my hair. It was a shame I looked so pretty, if I hadn’t then
I wouldn’t be here anymore. A pearl clip lay in the centre of the dressing table; I picked it up gingerly, wondering if it was meant for me. Deciding I didn’t care, I threw it randomly into my long
tresses. Longer than I would have liked it, my hair was my only marker of time. It was a constant nuisance, flipping into my face at the wrong moments, blocking my view.
I stared sadly into the mirror; I would have traded this beauty, this life, for that girl in the mirror to age. But since that was now impossible, I took to admiring myself in the ancient
“Master is looking for,” a timid voice called from the direction of the door.
“Tell him he can wait. And I wish you wouldn’t call him that,”
“I’m sorry Mi – Serine. Bad habit, no offence meant.”
“Is he in a good mood?”
“Well, did he look happy or not?”
“He looks the same as always, I wouldn’t keep him waiting,”
“No, I wouldn’t. Not tonight anyway, I’m hungry.” Sighing I threw down the brush I had been running through my hair. “I bet he treats his slaves better than he does me. Would you agree
“I wouldn’t know Mi – Serine.”
“No you wouldn’t would you? Well, we better not keep him waiting. Shall we?” I offered my arm to the young girl who cowered in the door. I was trying to be kind, I remember when that had been
me. Tess, a new plaything for the household’s general enjoyment, took it gently, as if scared I would bite her. I wasn’t that hungry.
We walked down the large, austere staircase together, arm-in-arm. It must have been quite a sight for the servants who were scurrying down in the entrance hall. Waiting at the foot of the
stairs was a young man, his figure a pleasing height and width, his face even more so.
By the time I had entered this life I had stopped believing in true romance, at least out of the story books. I read constantly, but even the large library I had discovered in a disused wing
was not enough to keep me occupied. I used think that my heart would stop jumping every time I saw him, but I was wrong. Red eyes shone out like rubies, a beautiful sight in my mind – if he wasn’t
hungry then his mood would probably be better. Soft black hair hung down around his pale face, it was a daring combination: white skin, red eyes, black hair, but his young face suited it.
I imagined what he was seeing now. A young mousey haired girl, light dusting of freckles but still rather pretty arm-in-arm with a tallish sixteen-year-old, long chestnut hair flowing down to
the small of her back. Surely the former would appeal more to him, I was old news, my body long cooled. But the look he flashed me was quite the opposite.
“We’re eating out tonight. I trust you won’t need your coats?” a small smile formed on his lips, his face was even more beautiful when lit up.
“Yes Master.” I elbowed Tess in the ribs, she should be above submission, she was already better than this handsome face before her.
“Tut, tut Serine. One day you will learn,” He shook his head, smile still there, clearly not going to punish me. Perhaps he had learnt, or then again, probably not.
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