The morning was cold and grey. A thick mist covered the ground, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. In the servant quarters, everything was quiet until loud footsteps came down the hallway.
Eloise woke up with a start when the door burst open. Her heart began to race as she heard angry voices and heavy boots. She tried to sit up, but her body still ached from the day before.
"Get up, all of you!" one of the guards shouted.
Mira quickly moved to Eloise's side and held her hand.
"Don't say a word," Mira whispered, her voice shaking.
Then, Madame Selene appeared in the room. She wore a long black dress, and her face looked even colder than usual. Without a word, she pointed straight at Eloise.
"That one," she said sharply. "She's useless here. Take her to the market. I'm sure some old fool will pay a good price for her."
Two guards rushed over and grabbed Eloise roughly by the arms. Mira jumped up, trying to help.
"Please, Madame… she's sick… she's barely eaten…"
Before Mira could finish, Selene slapped her hard across the face.
"Speak again and you'll go with her!" Selene hissed.
Eloise was pulled toward the door. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled against the guards, but it was no use. She quickly clutched her necklace; the one thing she still had left of her mother holding it tightly in her palm.
She turned back and caught Mira's teary eyes.
"I'll be okay," Eloise mouthed, though deep down, she was terrified.
Outside, the air smelled like wet dirt and something sour. Eloise was shoved into a wooden cart with iron bars. Inside, other slaves sat quietly women and little children. Their faces were pale and tired. Nobody spoke.
The cart began to move, bumping along the muddy road. Eloise kept her hand on her necklace. It was cold against her skin, but it made her feel a little less alone.
Somewhere inside her, a small voice whispered:
"You have to stay alive."
The ride to the market felt endless. Eloise's stomach was tight with fear, and her body ached with every bump of the cart. The other slaves sat in silence, their eyes empty like they had given up long ago. Eloise tried not to cry. She was tired of crying. She just hoped she'd be okay.
Finally, the cart came to a stop. Loud voices filled the air, the sounds of people bargaining, laughing, and shouting. The stench of sweat, dirt, and old blood made Eloise's stomach turn. It reminded her of when she was much younger how she was being set on display for old people to select like fish in the market.
The slave market was much worse than Eloise remembered. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, animals, and rotten fruit. People shouted over one another, selling everything from livestock to stolen trinkets. The cries of other slaves filled the space, some begging, some silent with empty eyes.
Eloise's wrists were tied with rough rope, the skin already raw from struggling. Two guards dragged her forward through the crowd. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, each step feeling heavier than the last. She could feel their eyes on her, the merchants, the peasants, the old men with greedy smiles.The slave market was much worse than Eloise remembered. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, animals, and rotten fruit. People shouted over one another, selling everything from livestock to stolen trinkets. The cries of other slaves filled the space, some begging, some silent with empty eyes.
Eloise's wrists were tied with rough rope, the skin already raw from struggling. Two guards dragged her forward through the crowd. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, each step feeling heavier than the last. She could feel their eyes on her, the merchants, the peasants, the old men with greedy smiles.
Madame Selene walked ahead, dressed in her usual fine silk, her face twisted into a pleased, cruel smile. She didn't look at Eloise, but her voice was cold when she spoke.
"Put her on the main stage."
The guards obeyed, yanking Eloise up a set of worn wooden steps. She stumbled, her knees hitting the floor, but they forced her to her feet. A bony hand gripped her chin and lifted her face toward the crowd.
"Look at this one!" the auctioneer bellowed. He was a round man with a greasy beard and crooked teeth. "Barely a girl, skin like snow, hair like fire. Strong, stubborn one, this is no common slave. Who'll start the bidding?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then a voice called out.
"Five gold!"
"Ten!"
"Fifteen!"
It picked up fast. Eloise kept her head down, her hands trembling as the numbers rose.
"Twenty!"
"Thirty!"
A drunk old man near the front squinted up at her. "Fifty!"
The crowd grew louder. Eloise's stomach twisted. She felt like some animal at market, a thing to be bought and used. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"Sixty!"
"Seventy!"
"Eighty!"
Gasps rippled through the onlookers. It was unheard of…no slave girl ever went for this much. Men argued, pushing one another to get closer. Even a few noblemen began shouting their bids, amused by the madness.
"Ten thousand gold!" a tall merchant roared, his face red from shouting.
Madame Selene's smile faded. This wasn't what she planned. She wanted Eloise gone, humiliated, owned by someone cruel and forgotten. But now, the girl was gathering attention she didn't deserve.
Then, everything went still.
A voice, calm but sharp as a blade, cut through the noise.
"One hundred thousand gold."
The crowd went dead silent. Heads turned. The merchant who'd shouted before lowered his hand.
Vincent stood a short distance away, dressed in dark, fine clothes, his silver hair catching the faint sunlight. He hadn't come for this, yet something drew him here. The moment he saw Eloise; pale, trembling, her hair a tangled mess around her bruised face, he couldn't look away.
Nobody spoke. Nobody dared challenge a bid like that… especially not from him.
The auctioneer cleared his throat nervously. "S-Sold… to Master Vincent of House Varkas."
Madame Selene forced a tight, fake smile, her stomach twisting in rage.
Vincent didn't approach the stage. He simply signaled his men. "Bring her to my quarters," he ordered.
Eloise was frozen. She barely understood what had happened. One minute men were shouting numbers like wolves fighting over a bone, the next a stranger she only glimpsed in passing had bought her life.
Her legs gave out as the guards untied her and pulled her to her feet again. She clutched her necklace without thinking. It felt warm against her skin, like it was alive.
As they led her away, she glanced back at the market. The faces blurred. The noise faded. All she knew was the world she once belonged to had disappeared the moment that number was called.
And somewhere deep in her chest… a strange, terrible hope flickered to life.
The ride back to the estate was silent.
Eloise sat in the back of a dark, covered carriage. Her wrists were still sore, her face bruised, her head resting against the cold wooden wall. She didn't know where they were taking her. She didn't even know who he was. The man who bid so much gold without blinking… who was he? Why her?
The guards at either side didn't speak to her. They kept their eyes ahead, treating her like she wasn't even there. The necklace against her chest felt warmer now a soft, steady throb, almost like a heartbeat. She clung to it, holding it so tightly her knuckles ached.
When the carriage finally stopped, the doors opened and a tall man stepped aside for her to come down. She hesitated but one sharp look from a guard made her move.
The estate before her was enormous, tall, cold towers that touched the pale sky. It wasn't the same mansion she'd served in before. This one was older, darker… quieter and larger. The air felt heavier here, like the place held secrets it refused to share.
Inside, she was led through dim, winding hallways until they reached a room lit by flickering candlelight. The tall man waiting there was the same one from the market….Vincent.
He was leaning against the window, looking out at the night. He didn't turn when the door opened.
"Leave us," he said quietly.
The guards obeyed without question, closing the door behind them.
Eloise stood in the middle of the room, her knees weak, her hands clenched by her sides. She wasn't sure whether to speak or stay silent.
Finally, he turned to her.
The flicker of the candle caught in his eyes, making them look almost silver. His face was unreadable neither kind nor cruel. Just… unreadable.
"You've caused quite the scene today," Vincent said, his voice low, calm. "Do you know that?"
Eloise didn't answer. She didn't know what he wanted from her.
He stepped closer, his gaze falling to the necklace at her throat.
"That," he murmured, almost to himself. "Where did you get it?"
Eloise clutched it tighter. "It was my mother's," she whispered, surprised at how small her voice sounded in the quiet room.
Vincent's eyes lingered on the pendant. There was something in them now something that flickered like recognition… or perhaps memory.
"You are not… ordinary," he said quietly.
Eloise didn't understand. She was just a girl. A servant. A broken, beaten thing left to rot in the corners of noble halls.
But as he spoke those words, a strange part of her wanted to believe him.
Vincent stepped back, picking up a glass of dark red wine from the table. He didn't drink it. He just held it, staring into the glass as if deep in thought.
"You'll stay here now," he said at last. "I'll have quarters prepared for you. Until I decide what to do with you."
Her heart twisted at his words, but it was still better than being sold to one of those old men.
Vincent turned to the maid and guards he had ordered to take care of Eloise and said; "No one is to touch her…not without my word."
The way he said it…cold, firm, final ; left no room for argument.
Vincent waved his hand and the guards returned, one of them motioning for her to follow. As they led her away, she could feel his eyes still on her back.
And for the first time in days, though she was terrified… a flicker of something unfamiliar stirred in her chest.
Not safety. Not yet.
But maybe… maybe the nightmare wasn't over.
Maybe it was just beginning.