3- Royal no more

Fiona's pov

With just a nod from Eunuch Elric, two guards came out from the corners, their fingers gripped my arms, and they dragged me out of the courtroom. I was dragged out of the castle and down an abandoned path leading up to the slave quarters and then, I was thrown into the corridors of the building.

"Mummy." A sweet voice called, and I raised my head to see my little Liora running toward me. "Mummy!"

I sat up, my arms outstretched as she ran into my embrace, her tiny fingers clutching the fabric of my gown while I tightened my arms around her, drawing her close.

"My Liora," I sniffed softly, cradling her. "You are safe."

My mind had been riddled with worry over where they had taken my daughter, and seeing her now washed a bit of ease over me. I still held her as I stood to my feet, a smile playing on my lips while she weaved her fingers through my hair, pulling gently at the strands. She stuck her thumb in her mouth, suckling gently.

"You shouldn't do that, baby." I removed her thumb gently. A whine came from her, but I brought her face closer to mine, puckering my lips to drop a gentle kiss on her nose, "Do you want your thumb to disappear?"

"Nah, Mummy," she shook her head vigorously, "Thumb stay."

"Good. Don't suck on it, my love."

"Okay, Mummy," she repeated, like she always did as if she wouldn't stick it in her mouth the very next moment she found.

"Where is Aunt Celia?" I asked her, smoothing my fingers through her hair. "Do you know where she is?"

"No." She shook her head. "Mummy, cookie? Banana cookie?" she asked, wiggling around in my arms. "I want banana cookie."

I almost teared up, my heart twisting as I let out a shaky breath. How do you explain to a three-year-old that banana cookies were gone forever? How do you tell her that she no longer lived a life of royalty and that we were both owned by a cruel king now?

"Liora," I smiled down at her, a tear escaping the corner of my eye, "Listen to mummy, okay?"

"Mummy sad? Don't sad, Mummy. All good."

My baby repeated those words as she wiped her tiny palms over my face, and I couldn't help holding back my tears any longer. They spilled down my cheeks. I held my baby close, silent sobs coming from me as I rocked her gently, soothing her as well as myself.

"Mummy can't give you banana cookies anymore." I choked through my sob.

"It's okay, Mummy. Cupcakes? Blue cupcakes?"

My darling had a sweet tooth. She was referring to the blueberry cupcakes I always made for her.

"No cupcakes, baby."

"It's okay, Mummy," she whispered. "I luff you."

"I love you too, my darling." I rocked her gently. "I love you greatly. Dearly."

I rubbed my palms on her back, the oath in my heart repeating itself. The oath I had sworn on the night I had her which was to give her all the love she deserved and never let her feel the absence of her father.

"You are here." A soft voice called interrupting our bonding and I raised my head. The sight of an older woman clad in red robes came into view.

"Oh, my heavens, you are just as lovely as her."

My lips curled in a shy smile as the woman advanced forward, "Who are you, please?"

"Forgive my manners." She laughed softly. "I am Maura. I oversee the female slaves."

"I am—"

"Princess Fiona." Her brown eyes lit up as she pronounced my name.

"Not a princess anymore."

"Oh, nonsense, dear," she shook her head. "It is here," she stamped her palm over her heart, "Not in your clothes or finery."

I returned her smile. She was warm and inviting, and when she asked me to come with her, I agreed.

She told me how Liora was brought to her by Ronan, and that Celia had already been taken to be paraded as the other slaves. I was to join them.

I had to take off my gown and jewelry, which she promised to help me keep safe. Luckily, she had given me privacy to change, and I could conceal my Ember's Pact mark which I was determined to let no one see until I was wiped off the earth.

I had to change into different clothing: a plain, soft brown shift with tiny hand straps that hung at my shoulders. It flowed to my knees, which granted me relief, as my mark was covered by it.

"You are good to go," The woman stated after she helped me tie my hair in a bun, "Your hair is peculiar."

"I got it from my mother." I accepted her compliment," Why did you tie it up?"

"Most of the slave masters are lustful, and you are a beauty to behold," She explained. "I tied the hair up to avoid attention."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Call me Maura.", She gave one last pat to the bun.

"You can go now."

I bade my daughter goodbye and left her in Maura's care, while I was taken by a soldier to the place where I would be displayed as a slave and soon we were merged in a straight line walking to the field where we would be displayed.

                      I fell to the ground, my knees cracking against the hard stones. Pain shot up my legs making me grit in agony. A whip cracked against my back, the harsh leather searing through the fabric and stinging at my skin. I could barely bite back my yell.

"Never been whipped, Princess?" The man looming over me barked, his fingers going around my arm and jerking me to my feet. "Break the line again, and I'll break your back." He pushed me to keep moving, and I dragged on, trying to keep my head up despite the riot of emotions clouding my mind.

We got to the field. The stench of different creatures, unwashed bodies, and sweat clung in the air, irritating my nostrils. I fought the urge to bend over and empty the contents of my stomach, but I couldn't risk being whipped again. My skin was still raw from being hit for the very first time in my life.

I wrapped my arms around myself as we were asked to turn. Then I felt someone squeezing their way next to me.

"Celia," I breathed in joy, turning to see her in good condition. "You are here."

"Your highness." she looked at me, her eyes gleaming with tears. "I am so glad you are okay."

She wrapped her arms around me before pulling away, "I was worried."

"You are okay, right? No one hurt you?"

I ran my eyes over her form, looking for any signs of brutality.

"No, my lady," she shook her head, "Where did you change? No one saw the mark, right?"

"No one saw." I smiled at her, "Don't worry. No one will."

And just then, our interaction was interrupted as a man climbed onto the podium. The same one who had whipped me.

"Silence!" His voice boomed over the crowd, and everyone went still at his order, "Welcome to Velmora!"The man sneered with all ounces of haughtiness, "Who you were before now is to be forgotten. Only what you are now matters."

My skin prickled with anxiety. His words stung, as if they were directed at me.

"You eat when we say, and you rest when we say. Your hands work, and your feet bear. You are not to show disobedience nor disorderliness. You belong to the king now. Your lives, your loyalty, your souls! By his will, you live, and by his will, you shall die. But you have been spared and granted his mercy, and so you owe him sworn loyalty." The man continued to speak, "Whatever species you are or caste you come from, You bow to the Dragon King now. You shall do that with utmost humility. And if there's failure to comply, there shall be hell to pay!"

His words were malicious and venomous just as the gaze he casted over us.

After his address, we were required to stand a little apart so we could be inspected. Other slave masters joined in, including the same man who had whipped me.

I held my breath as the search began. Some were asked to strip, leered at, mocked, humiliated. My heart lurched in fear that I might be asked to strip and then I would be found out by my mark.

Celia held my hand, squeezing tightly, while Iris comforted me gently, assuring me that nothing would happen and we wouldn't be discovered.

The man finally got to me, his beady eyes resting on my face and traveling down my neck. I gulped as he licked his lips.

"Turn around," the man instructed, and I did so slowly.

"Again!" I obeyed, biting my lip to avoid making any resistance. Then I turned back to face him, matching his fierce gaze, hoping within me that he wouldn't ask me to strip.

"This wouldn't do." He shook his head, stepping closer while my skin prickled with anxiety and heart lurched in fear. I didn't want to be discovered, that would mean death for my daughter and I and then he went ahead pronouncing the one word I feared.

"Strip."