Chapter eight: You dare to disrespect me

Aurora's POV

As I descended the stairs, the aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, making my stomach growl even louder. I followed the scent to a spacious kitchen, where I found a lavish spread of breakfast dishes on the counter.

There were pastries, fruits, cheeses, and an assortment of cooked meats. My eyes widened at the feast before me. It was a stark contrast to the meager meals I was accustomed to.

I spotted a servant standing by the counter, watching me with a neutral expression. "Good morning, miss," she said, her voice polite but detached. "Please, help yourself to breakfast."

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. But my hunger got the better of me, and I began to serve myself, trying to ignore the servant's watchful eyes. I sat at the table, serving myself a piece of each dish. I swallowed the food greedily, and the maids stared at me weirdly. I wasn't supposed to eat this food, but I needed strength to run away.

I tried to ignore their curious gazes, focusing instead on filling my belly. The food was rich and flavorful, a far cry from the plain meals I was usually fed with with at home. I savored each bite, knowing it might be my last chance to eat like this for a while.

As I eat my meal, I caught one of the maids staring at me again. This time, I met her gaze, trying to convey a message without words. I needed her to know that I was planning something, that I wasn't going to be held captive forever.

The maid's eyes flickered slightly, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of sympathy. But it was quickly replaced by a mask of neutrality, and she looked away, busying herself with clearing the table.

I watched her, wondering if I had imagined the whole thing. Was she an ally, or just a servant doing her job? I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on my plan. I had to be careful, had to make sure I didn't raise any suspicions.

I stood up, my chair scraping against the floor. The maids stopped what they were doing, looking at me expectantly. 'I'm going to my room,' I announced, trying to sound calm. 'I need to rest.'"

"Sorry Miss, you have to eat half of the meal on the table" The woman who had interfered my pleas with the maids said as she appeared out of nowhere.

I sat down and filled my plate again, I could not help but feel a sense of unease under the woman's gaze. I wondered if she had been instructed to watch me, or if she was simply curious about the new occupant of the house. I tried to push the thoughts aside and focus on eating, savoring the flavors and textures of the food. It was a welcome respite from the uncertainty and fear that had been gnawing at me since I arrived. Just as I was starting to feel a sense of relief, I heard the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen.

The servant's expression changed, and she nodded slightly in respect. I turned to see who had arrived, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw him, the man who had bought me.

"why are you eating like someone who have been starving for days" he said staring at me irritatingly.

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I met his gaze, my eyes flashing with a mix of anger and defensiveness. "Maybe it is because I was," I retorted, my voice barely above a whisper. I didn't know why I was being so bold, but something about his tone rubbed me the wrong way.

How much I have his presence, I looked away, focusing on my food, trying to ignore the tension that had suddenly filled the room.

I felt a sting from his words, and it was clear that his initial intentions are not good. He is just bitter man hiding behind a mask of good looks, and now that mask was slipping away. I couldn't help but wonder what I had done to deserve this treatment.

Was it simply because of my poverty, or was there something more? I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the fact that I had to survive this situation. I looked down at my plate, trying to appear submissive, but inside, I was seething with anger.

I suddenly felt a tightness around my neck as I was lifted up from my sit. I gasped for air, my eyes widening in shock as I was lifted off the ground. The man's grip around my neck was like a vice, his fingers digging deep into my skin.

I tried to struggle, but his hold was too strong. I felt my face growing hot, my lungs burning from the lack of oxygen. Just as I thought I was going to pass out, he slammed me against the wall, his face inches from mine. "You dare to disrespect me?" he hissed, his eyes blazing with anger.

I knew I had hit a nerve, and I regretted my boldness. "I'm sorry," I mouthed, my voice barely audible. He stared at me his anger evident in his gaze. He released his grip on my neck, and I slumped against the wall, gasping for air.