EPISODE 3 – THE WHITE DRESS

THE WHITE DRESS

“Wolfie... wake up, it’s three in the morning...” I whispered gently, nudging the body of my sleeping dog. He immediately sprang up, twisting and shaking off his drowsiness in one swift motion.

“Let’s try stealing some dried meat again...” I murmured softly.

I got out of bed and quietly picked up the tool I would need for the heist, a long stick with a small hook at the end. I opened the door of the stables and stretched my limbs briefly before pausing to take in the dark, misty surroundings. The horizon was beginning to lighten, the earliest hints of dawn creeping into the sky.

I knew the guard at the dried meat storage house would still be fast asleep at this hour. Wolfie and I stepped outside and began walking toward our target. I rubbed my arms against the biting cold, the chill of the early morning air seeping deep into my skin.

As we got closer to the storage house, I slowed my pace to a cautious crawl, careful not to make a sound as my feet brushed against the dew-covered grass. Once we reached the small window covered with metal grills, I crouched low and peeked through, aided by the flickering light of an oil lamp inside.

Then I saw the guard lying flat on his back on a bamboo cot, his mouth slightly open, snoring steadily in the silence of the early morning.

My eyes moved upward, locking onto the rows of smoked sausages hanging from the ceiling beams. Those were my targets. The hams were too risky. Too obvious, and tightly accounted for. Sausages were safer. They could go missing for a while without raising suspicion.

I gripped the stick tightly in my hands and slowly guided it through the narrow gap between the window bars. Carefully, I maneuvered the hook toward one of the longer sausages dangling near the edge.

I missed the first try. My heart skipped a beat. But I didn’t panic.

I steadied my breathing, refocused, and tried again. This time catching the sausage gently on the hook. Bit by bit, I pulled it closer, holding my breath with every movement until I could finally grab it with my hand.

A satisfied smile spread across my face.

I slowly backed away from the window, not daring to make a single sound. Wolfie was already wagging his tail vigorously, his excitement barely contained.

“Here’s your share... We’ll save the rest for tonight so you’ll have something to eat later,” I told him, handing him three small pieces. He gobbled them up instantly, not even chewing.

I took one piece for myself and began to chew on it slowly. It wasn’t raw, after all. These sausages had been smoked for weeks, marinated in spices and herbs that gave them a deep, savory flavor that lingered on the tongue. It was delicious.

But I only did this rarely, actually. If I took it too often, someone might notice. And if that happened, it would mean no food at all. That’s why, most days, Wolfie and I went to bed with empty stomachs.

Because it was only around four in the morning, I still had some time to get a little more sleep. I pulled the thick blanket over myself again, sinking into its warmth. As I peeked over at Wolfie, I saw that he had just finished eating. He spun around several times on his bed, as he always did when searching for the perfect spot. Once he found it, he lay down and curled up.

I closed my eyes, determined to make the most of the two hours of rest I had left. Soon enough, the day would begin, and with it would come a downpour of exhausting chores.

“Hey, slave. Wake up. It’s already six in the morning.”

Through the haze of my sleep, I heard the familiar voice of one of the servants. I pulled the blanket off my body and looked up at the person who had entered. Standing at the edge of my bed was the servant, clutching several long pieces of bread in her arms.

“Here. Eat this. That’s your breakfast for today,” she said flatly.

Without any further words, she tossed three pieces of bread at me. One hit me in the face before all three landed across my lap. She didn’t say another word. She turned around and walked out of the stable.

“Wolfie…” I murmured in a sleepy voice, yawning as I turned to look at my dog. He was already awake, sitting quietly on his bed, watching me.

“Moldy bread again for breakfast. But... we’re still full, right? Let’s save this for later. We’ll stuff it with sausage,” I whispered with a small laugh. Wolfie let out a bark in reply, as if to agree.

I placed the bread inside the sling bag that hung by the post. I’d gotten used to eating bread with mold on it. Even slightly spoiled food didn’t bother me anymore. I figured there could only be one reason for that, I had conditioned my stomach over time. It didn’t even get upset anymore.

I got up and headed out toward the horse stables to feed them their hay. After feeding them, I started cleaning their stalls. As expected, there were piles of poóps again. One by one, I scooped it into a bucket to be dumped later in the compost pit.

While I was focused on my work, the creaking sound of the stable door opening pulled my attention away. I looked toward it, frowning slightly when I saw two guards entering. They stopped just at the doorway, their eyes locking directly on me.

“Make way,” said a commanding voice.

The two guards standing in front of the stable stepped aside, and that’s when I saw her.

Madame Gisele, stepping into view.

She wore a flowing dress in a deep, regal shade of purple. My favorite color, though I didn’t know if I still deserved favorites. I found myself momentarily frozen, stunned by how elegant she looked.

But that admiration faded quickly when I noticed how she stopped right at the entrance, pulling out a white handkerchief to cover her nose, clearly disgusted by the stench of the stables.

“Bring that slave into the mansion.”

Her voice was firm, full of authority, and not to be questioned.

Without hesitation, the two guards stepped forward toward me. I dropped the bucket of horse fèces I had been holding as they grabbed both my arms roughly and started dragging me out of the stable.

Madame Gisele turned and walked ahead without sparing me another glance.

As I was being forced to follow, Wolfie began barking furiously.

I turned my head just in time to see him sink his teeth into the hem of one of the guard’s trousers, the one on my left.

But my eyes widened in horror as the guard kicked him hard.

Wolfie yelped in pain and was sent flying across the stable floor.

I immediately struggled against their grip, desperate to break free. My heart pounded in my chest as I screamed, “Stop! Don’t hurt him!”

“Don’t resist, you slave!” the guard bellowed angrily.

The shout caused Madame Gisele to halt and turn back toward us.

Her eyes narrowed as she stepped closer and studied my face, trying to see through the tangled curtain of bangs that I used to hide behind. Her stare was sharp and cutting.

“Behave,” she said coldly. “Unless you want to get hurt. Do you understand me?”

The guards resumed dragging me, and all I could do was glance back at Wolfie, who was struggling to get up, his body trembling. I didn’t look away from him until I was finally taken through the doors of the mansion.

They brought me into a small room where two older servants were waiting.

“Bathe and dress that servant,” Madame Gisele commanded sternly. The two older servants immediately bowed their heads in obedience.

“But before anything else,” she added. “Tie her hands. That one has a wild streak.”

Without delay, one of the guards grabbed my wrists and forced them together in front of me. He took a short, rough rope and tightly bound them, the coarse fibers scraping against my skin. I winced slightly, the sting from the pressure and texture bit into my flesh.

I had no idea what was going on. This was the first time something like this had ever happened, being abruptly pulled from the stables and brought inside the mansion like this.

Based on what I overheard, they said I was to be bathed?

For what reason?

But despite the confusion, what troubled me more was my dog.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Wolfie.

The last time I saw him, he was struggling to stand after that filthy guard had kicked him just for defending me.

“All done, my lady,” the guard announced, stepping back after securing the knot.

“You know what to do,” Madame Gisele told the servants. “When you’re finished bathing her, make sure she wears the dress I left. Then bring her back to the living room.”

“Yes, my lady,” the two servants replied in unison.

Madame Gisele turned and walked away, the guards following behind her. One of the servants gently took hold of my arm and began to guide me toward the bath chamber. I didn’t resist. There was no point.

When we arrived at the bathroom, I was surprised by how pristine and warm it was, completely unlike the places I was usually allowed into. They began removing my clothes, peeling away the stained, tattered layers I’d grown used to wearing every day. They set them aside on a table next to a steaming tub of water.

They instructed me to sit, and I obeyed silently.

Fragrant oils were poured into the water, releasing a soft, sweet scent that felt strange to breathe in. One servant worked on my hair, squeezing the water through it, while the other scrubbed at my arms with such force that my skin started turning red. Her hands moved harshly, like she was trying to erase years of dirt and grime in a single day.

I kept my mouth shut the entire time, my eyes cast downward. I didn’t speak. I didn’t complain.

But my thoughts never left Wolfie.

After what felt like hours, they rinsed me under a warm shower, then began brushing my thick long, tangled hair. The servant struggled as the comb caught repeatedly in the knots, years of neglect didn’t disappear easily. Each tug pulled sharply against my scalp, but I barely reacted. I was used to pain. There was no point in resisting. The hairbrush collected handfuls of fallen strands, but I didn’t flinch.

It almost felt like torture back there in the bath, but they were thorough.

I could admit that much. Every trace of the stable stench, the animal dung that clung to me daily was washed away.

That smell was the reason the other maids always teased me, whispering that I reeked of manure. I worked with animals, after all. No matter how hard I tried to stay clean, the odor always followed.

But today… they were scrubbing me clean like I was someone important.

And that scared me even more.

They gently dried my wet body with a towel, carefully patting away the water. Then, one of the servants removed the rope from my wrists, finally freeing me so they could dress me.

They helped me into a long-sleeved white dress, the hem falling just past my knees.

I slowly turned to face the mirror as the two servants began tightening the corset on my back.

I stared at my reflection.

My bangs still covered most of my face. My hair, now properly brushed, reached all the way down to my waist. I hadn’t realized it had grown that long.

My body looked painfully thin.

I had so little flesh left, just skin and bone.

Still… this was the first time I had ever worn a dress this beautiful. There was even a delicate ribbon tied around my waist, adding a touch of softness to the otherwise simple garment.

The fabric looked so clean, pure white, and felt soft against my skin.

The corners of my lips lifted slightly.

Just a little. I had always dreamed of wearing something like this, something elegant that didn’t smell like livestock or filth.

But the smile vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

Because the longer I stared at myself in the mirror, the more I realized...

Yes, the dress was beautiful... but it didn’t suit me.

I looked like a ghost.

Like a white lady from a horror tale.

Or worse, like a corpse freshly risen from the grave.

A dead girl, dressed and ready to be buried.

“Come with us. We're going back to the living room,” one of the servants said, having finished tying the corset.

They walked ahead, and I followed them silently. We re-entered the same living room where I had first been brought in earlier.

And something inside me finally pushed me to speak.

“What are they going to do to me?” I asked in a soft, uncertain voice.

The two servants stopped just before leaving the room.

One of them turned to look at me, her cold eyes locking onto mine with no hint of emotion.

“Wait here,” she replied bluntly. "Madame Gisele will return with the buyer who’s going to purchase you.”