The Alpha Biker's Healer

A Slave with No Name

"Hey! Clean the pig stables after you're done there. Hurry up! You eat so slowly!"

My head was slightly bowed as I quietly ate a burnt rice ball, sitting on the flat stone rim of the old well outside the mansion. I heard the order clearly, spoken by one of the female servants, but I didn’t bother replying. When I glanced at her briefly, she sneered and quickly turned away. I just focused on finishing what little food I had, there were still so many animals I had to bathe before the day ended.

“I’m so excited for tonight... Good thing they’re letting us go out to see the festival!”

“Yeah! I’ve got so many beauty products I want to buy!”

“They said we can stay out ‘til midnight... young master gave us permission!”

Their voices echoed as they chatted excitedly. I looked off into the distance, listening to the conversation among the other servants. I had always admired their uniforms. The white fabric was spotless, perfectly pressed. Their skirts were short almost like mini skirts and looked so neat and cute. Each of them wore an apron tied at the waist, and their hair was styled up with decorative ribbons.

Even though I’d seen their outfits for years, I never stopped finding them lovely to look at.

I lowered my gaze to look at myself.

I paused when I saw the frayed and torn hem of my skirt. It was covered in old, stains, their colors blended into a dirty, rusty brown. I glanced down at my shoes, mismatched and worn out. The right one was bigger than the left, both picked up from who knows where, discarded by someone else.

Then I looked back at the other servants again. Their hair was neat, their faces bright.

But I kept mine down. Messy, unbrushed, and long enough to reach my lower back. Most of my face was hidden behind my hair. I did that on purpose. I didn’t like looking people in the eye. I didn’t want anyone to look too closely at me, either.

"Who's that girl over there by the well? Is she some beggar?"

I froze.

The servants had suddenly stopped walking. All of them had turned their attention toward me.

“You’re new here, so let me introduce her to you,” one of the servants said, stepping between the group and the girl who looked like a newcomer to the mansion. “She’s the slave with no name. She’s the one who cleans the pig pens, horse stables, and sheep sheds. That’s been her job for years. Her parents apparently sold her when she was just a baby... and she’s been a slave ever since.”

The prettiest among them nodded slowly. “That’s so sad...” she murmured then let out a soft laugh.

“Yeah. But don’t go near her, she stinks,” another one added, followed by giggles from the rest of them.

I didn’t react. I just kept eating my rice ball, emotionless, as if I didn’t hear a thing.

They continued walking and avoided passing near me.

Once I was sure they weren’t looking anymore, I watched them walk away.

They were all so beautiful.

These were the servants who worked inside the mansion. I was the only one assigned to work outside, doing the jobs they found too filthy or degrading to touch.

The servant from earlier was right.

I was sold off by my parents when I was just a baby because of poverty. They had no other choice. As soon as I learned how to move and follow instructions, they turned me into a slave. I became the errand girl, the disposable tool for everyone who lived in the mansion.

It’s been twenty years.

For twenty years, I’ve been trapped here. I’ve never even set foot outside the mansion gates. If I ever tried, the whip would be waiting, punishment for daring to cross the line.

I’ve been lashed more times than I can count.

My back has no space left, every inch is covered in scars. I was still a child back then, curious about the world beyond the gates.

I tried escaping several times... but it never worked. I’m imprisoned here.

And this... this is where I’ll die.

That much, I’m sure of.

Honestly, I’m just waiting for death now.

But I’m not suicidal, not in the way people usually mean. Even with everything I’ve gone through, I don’t want to end my life. Still, there are days when I wake up and feel so exhausted from simply existing. I get tired of trying to survive in a world that only gives me pain.

Who would find the will to smile in a life like this? A life that’s nothing but hardship and suffering?

But still... I do what I can.

I try to appreciate the small things. The tiniest comforts that bring me even a little bit of peace. Those are the only things that remind me I’m still human.

When I finally finished the burnt rice ball, I stood up and slowly walked away from the well. My bare feet padded across the grass as I made my way toward the sheep stable. Once there, I pushed the door open and called out softly. “Wolfie? Where are you? I brought you a snack…”

My eyes scanned the stable. All I could see were the sheep lying around, they were resting.

"Whoof!"

I turned my head as soon as I heard the bark. In an instant, my dog leaped toward me, tail wagging enthusiastically as he circled around my legs. I crouched down, opened my left palm, and offered him the rice ball I had saved. He immediately snatched it with his mouth, gobbling it up.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched him eat, my hand gently stroking the fur on his back. He devoured the food as if he hadn’t eaten in days. “Sorry, Wolfie... I know this is your first meal today. We’re both so thin now… we’re starting to look alike,” I said in a whisper, followed by a faint chuckle.

Wolfie was my only companion.

The only one who stayed by my side through everything. He was my comfort when darkness tried to pull me under. One of the few reasons I kept going.

If I gave up now, he’d die here too.

“Later, I have to clean out the pig pens...” I murmured gently. “And after that, we’ll bathe in the stream.” My voice softened even more as I spoke, trying to sound comforting.

The sheep stable had become our home. It was where we lived, where we slept. For years now, this place has been the only shelter I have had.

"There you are, stinky bítch."

The smile on my face instantly faded.

My expression hardened. I slowly stood up and turned toward the source of the voice.

Standing at the entrance was Lord Donis, the young master of the estate. The only son of Lord Don and Madame Gisele.

Wolfie growled beside me, baring his teeth, his eyes locked on Lord Donis.

Even with my bangs covering most of my face, I could still see the way he grinned at me.

"Your days here are numbered, and yet you still won't give me what I want?"

He’d been saying that to me for nearly a month now. I never asked what he meant, and I wasn’t interested in knowing.

This guy, he’s the same age as me, around twenty but I can’t stand him. I despise him because he’s tried to harass me multiple times. He even attempted to assault me.

Thankfully, I know how to fight back.

That’s why I always keep a dagger hidden inside the pocket of my skirt. I’ve learned to protect myself from monsters like him.

I reached into my pocket and pulled it out.

He saw the dagger. His grin only widened.

"Do you want to know why... even if you stab me a hundred times, my parents won’t kill you? Why all they ever do is whip you?" he said, leaning against the stable door, his eyes fixed on me. "Or why, no matter how heavy your sins are from all these years, you’re still alive?"

I said nothing. My lips stayed shut, but my glare could’ve cut through steel.

"Of course, you won’t answer me. You only talk to that scrawny mutt of yours. But... since you are listening..." His eyes narrowed into slits. "You’d better be ready for that day. It’ll be your end. But... I’ll say this one more time. My offer still stands. If you agree to sleep with me... I’ll help you escape this place."

He must be blind or desperate. I’m nothing but almost skin and bones, and yet he still wants to use me like that.

He’s probably already tasted every servant in the mansion... except me. I’m the only one left.

And I have no intention of ever giving myself to him.

Escape? He always talks about helping me escape.

But I’m not a fool. He’s a cunning snake, and I’d be a complete idiot to believe a single word out of his mouth.

If I didn’t know how to fight, if I wasn’t able to struggle and resist. He would’ve ràped me a long time ago. I might look weak and frail, but the moment I’m cornered, something inside me pushes back. I’ve already stabbed him six times.

Six.

And yes, I have been wondering why they haven’t killed me yet.

It’s probably because they still need me. Because I’m useful. At least, I hope that’s all it is. But the way he always talks... makes me think there’s something I don’t know.

"You’ve got... two weeks to decide," he said darkly.

Then slowly, he raised his left hand, pressed it against his throat, and dragged it sideways in a cutting motion.

"If you don’t give me what I want... they will kíll you."