“Where are we headed, master?” The slave’s throat was deeply hurt, probably from the dehydration and malnutrition, causing his voice to be coarse and rough. While he attempted to focus his attention on me, his eyes traveled from stall to stall, overwhelmed by everything that was happening, not realizing how the merchant’s attention fell on him.

   “To buy Orchids.” I smiled, forcing him to look at me, puzzled by my words. Noticing we were approaching some mercenaries, my hands pulled down his cloak, causing him to lower his long torso. “Remember, three years and you can do whatever you wish but, until then, don’t do anything stupid.”

   The group of men glared at us suspiciously, forcing the slave to be on guard, however, once he felt my second harsh pull, his head lowered. We shouldn’t bring any further attention to ourselves – our attires and characteristics weren’t exactly inconspicuous.

   After walking for a handful of minutes, we reached the Orchids space which appeared to have a strong incense burning scent flowing from somewhere close by. Several merchants with their wooden stalls spoke among each other, blabbing about their greatest sales, while on the tables many small glass recipients rested, patiently waiting for a wicked person to taken them. An old lady, who simply had a thin sheet between her products and the floor, sat casually with her arms crossed, snoozing slightly.

   Hearing my footsteps approach, the woman quickly woke up, her eyes beet red. “Are you an Orchid seller?”

   “Indeed, child, what type of Orchid are you looking for?” The old lady grinned happily, with all her leftover teeth, while her hands rummaged through the several glass recipients on display.

   “One that kills and can’t be tracked.” My words made the woman ponder for a couple of minutes. She then turned her body and removed several poisons from a black bag hidden behind her back.

   Understanding what I was actually purchasing, the slave gasped. “Those are...!”

   “Poisons, a woman’s deadliest weapon.” I completed his sentence, forcing him to grow quiet. He was smart, and he knew some thoughts were better locked away, at least in this place.

   “A new flower came from the East. It is quick and untraceable.” Her hands held a small container filled with a beautiful yellow powder inside.

   Almost immediately, I shook my head. That man didn’t deserve to have a quick death, not after everything he had put me through.

   “I want something that’s painful… something that will take its sweet time.” Hearing my words, the old lady grinned with her crooked lips. Her dark eyes glimmered with excitement. “I want to have some fun first.”

   “In that case, take this one.” Her hands quickly removed another recipient, even smaller than the one I’d seen before, with a strange vivid red powder inside. “After taking it, one will begin losing the strength in their body and die from three to five hours, depending on the dosage.”

   The woman’s proposition was alluring. Sure, my plan included Terrel’s death, however, my soul demanded some extra satisfaction from such event. Killing him with a mere poison was too simple, too merciful. He was going to beg, to suffer as much as he made me in his hands.

✽✼✽✼✽✼✽

Ophelia’s memories, 1st Life

   Everything was quiet, too quiet.

   The moon hid behind the thick clouds as darkness embraced the land, allowing the rattling of the leaves to be the only echoing sound. Suddenly, a low noise rung through the shadowy halls of the Wharton’s estate.

   “What was that?” I asked the maids stationed behind the door of my chambers yet, no one responded. “Is everything alright?”

   Did they leave...? Questions ran through my mind as silence slowly embraced me. Surely, they heard me; then why weren’t they answering?

   “Ophelia... open the door.” Terrel’s presence was right behind the wooden entrance - it was easy to recognize his harsh, drunken voice. The sound of hiccups and the way he slowly spelled the words meant he had consumed far too much. “Ophelia...”

   Adrenaline began pumping through my veins.

   Should I yell? No one would hear.

   Should I hide? He knew I was here.

   Should I run? I couldn’t jump from the second floor.

   “You should get some rest, Lord Terrel. You sound exhausted.” My voice was calm, appeasing almost; however, he simply growled like a hungry animal.

   His hand started banging on the door repeatedly. “Open the fucking door!”

   The knob turned, and the corner of the wooden object hit my forehead, forcing my body to fall onto the floor. The maids hadn’t locked the door like they used to… could they’ve been expecting this?

   I glanced upwards to see his baggy clothes floating as the air current from the window passed through. In his right hand, a large bottle of wine, almost empty, swung from side to side, matching his wavy body movements as the fluid inside attempted to ravage the glass through a forced storm. Feeling slightly dizzy from exhaustion and nervousness, as anxiety passed through my nerves like butter in a recently baked bread, my throat swallowed down hard, my heart thumped on my ears like two hammers.

   “Let’s do it, Ophelia. I’m tired of waiting.” His voice was like a nightmare, like the monsters that lie right below the mattress, waiting for their prey to rest at the darkest time of the day.

   Horror struck. In this land, when a woman lost her virginity, she would lose all her power, becoming nothing more than a slut, to be used and abused by men to their wishes – father told me so, showed me so. He’d taken me to see the nearby village where some women knocked on the men’s door, hoping to get a simple coin for their release.

   “Lord Terrel, I’m sure you are eager, but it’s wiser to wait until...” Gradually, I got up, placing all my strength on the wooden table even when my hands rapidly trembled. He simply looked at me lustfully, as if I was nothing more than an object he owned, as if humanity didn’t belong to me anymore. “Please, My Lord... I’m sure that we can...”

   Right before finishing my sentence, Terrel dashed. A stinging pain was born within my left cheek as I struggled to keep my ground. He had slapped me with no restraint.

   His body grew closer to mine, grabbing my arms strongly. “Shut up. You women are all the same.” In a swift movement, he twirled me around and threw me into the bed. “Always saying no, but when you get it, you can’t get enough, can you?”

   “Terrel, please stop!” At this point, I yelled, screaming while holding onto a small strand of hope that this was nothing more than a bad dream, that he would wake up from this drunken state he’d placed himself into. Praying to God, to whoever it was, for someone to hear my plea.

   I tried to turn my body again, but he quickly pushed me back down onto the bed, drowning my face into the pillow after hitting me. Terrel’s punch struck my cheek perfectly, allowing me to taste, for the first time, the sweetness of blood.

   “I said, shut the fuck up!”

   That night, no one came. For quite some time, painful yells left my being but once realization dawned – that the halls surrounding me were lifeless, filled with darkness and the bliss of ignorance – such horror turned into soft sobs on the now uncomfortable pillow. I’d grown tired, simply accepting the cross that fate had forced me to bear.

   After he left, slightly sobered up, a wide grin stamped on his face, my body lumped into the bed, wounded, exhausted. Tears flooded my vision and my memory since the next thing my mind was able to recall was seeing the maids arrive at my chambers, finding me in such a precarious position – my nightgown had been completely torn, revealing my breasts, my legs and God knows what else. Yet, they didn’t seem surprised and not a single question as to how such scenario had come to be flew through.

   They prepared me a bath but no matter how many times they scrubbed; I didn’t feel clean. His touch lingered on my skin, his coarse voice and alcoholic breath filled my senses as well as the filthy seeds deep within my womb – the ones that would birth a son, a monster such as him.

   My jaw was sore for a week, causing my appetite and food intake to grow scarcer. Every time he saw the inflammation on my muscles, he’d frown, disgusted by the gruesome sight. During that time, my body was spared yet, once my appearance returned to normal, so did his desires.

   And I’d be reminded of him every single day, even if he wasn’t there, with me. The servants would glare at me, and the maids would whisper words too egoistical for me to bear – all thought me to be worse than them, a whore, a slut, a shameful wench, that had become wicked enough to seduce the heir before marriage. And they were right.

   No matter how much I struggled, memories of that night were imbued into me, stuck into my soul like the stickiest honey pot in the world. It was true that I’d become nothing more than a piece of garbage, a foolish whore of a woman that had lost all her virtues because of the sinful desires of a demon in the shape of a man.

✽✼✽✼✽✼✽

   “Master?” The slave’s voice startled me, causing me to drop the recipient from my hands. Luckily, his quick reflexes allowed him to catch the produce before it shattered on the ground.

   “You can put it in food or mix with any liquid. It has a bit of a flavor to it, so strong tasting ingredients work best.” The old woman scratched her hand, eagerly waiting for her rightful payment. My fingers opened a smaller bag, attached to my waistline and handed her six gold coins. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Miss.”

   As we were turning, heading towards the exit, a man with a cart filled with junk passed, almost clashing against us. Flustered, the man lowered his head, apologizing repeatedly. My attention, however, lingered on an extremely rusty mirror filled with dust and dirt.

   “Excuse me.” I stopped the man in his tracks before pointing at the item. “How much?”

   “I guess ten silver coins would suffice, Miss.” The man politely stated, confused by my sudden interest.

   It was clear the man was no merchant, and these weren’t exactly his products. They were probably leftovers that were taken to a warehouse to be disposed of in the close future.

   My hands extended one gold coin, giving it to the man. His eyes sparkled with excitement, clearly overwhelmed. In a swift movement, the slave removed the mirror from the cart.

   “Don’t you wish to take anything else, Miss? A gold coin is too much for such trashy item.”

   One last time, my eyes glanced through the cart, but nothing else seemed to be worth my time. I shook my head, and we continued on our journey.