Thread: The Bet (Darjeeling X QB)

Who would have known such malice shone within the curly-haired noble's eyes? Kyra did not notice it, yet the slave-maiden could not comprehend the cruelty that he was truly capable of. His hand moved quickly, striking her cheek with considerable force. Or as considerable as a man like him could muster. Even Markus the Slave trader could hit harder than him. You dare speak without being addressed, slave? Do you wish to learn your place? The boy grasped the hand whom he struck her with it was evident the pain from the recoil was definitely too much for him. To threaten the Immortal Queen's nephew. You shall rue the moment you decided to turn that tongue against me! All words he may be, but the hateful fire in his eyes was proof that she was definitely in for quite a night. Markus! The blonde barked out angrily as the cowering slave trader attempted to straighten himself when he was beckoned. Yes, Mi'lord? He asked, batting an angry glance over at Fleur and towards Kyra. The latter shivered in her stockades, glancing away in hopes that the noble's wrath may not fall upon her. I rescind my refusal. I will purchase this one. If I do not see her at the Lower House by tonight...consider yourself piked. The boy's hateful glare caused the portly slave trader to shiver, leaning in as he felt the boy's delicate fingers pinch his ear. Make sure she is cowed and obidient by nightfall. I want her to regret even spitting those words out at me. The boy dusted his feet at the door as Markus slinked away from his path. Kyra and a few other slaves were relieved if not her they were certainly glad not to have ended up as chattel to such a cruel man. I shall be seeing you tonight, slave. The boy chuckled with a hand covering his mouth, You will be begging for death by the time I am finished with you tonight. Hohohoho! Edgar's expression darkened with sadistic malice as the door clamored with a thud. With the nobleman's presence gone Markus was quick to act, ham-fistedly throwing a punch at her stomach. Grasping her vibrant ebony strands, he forced Fleur to look right to his eyes. You have alot of nerve talking back to Albionan Royalty like that...but I suppose I should thank you. I couldn't market damaged goods like you to any of these people. He whispered, spittle spraying from his mouth as he spoke. He soon let go as he motions for the guards to take her away. Straighten this woman up, will you boys? Do whatever you want. Not like Lord Edgar will mind this having a few new bruises! He threatened, leaving the bound slave to the mercy of two of his guards. Kyra shrunk where she was bound, glancing longingly towards Emerald as she was dragged away. It definitely was going to be a long night, especially when the slightly obese guard from yesterday recovered from the ferocious right hook she gave to him. With clubs and ropes, they truly did not hold back. Fitting a drool-soaked rusty metal bar between her teeth, her wrists were brought up behind her and tied up to a length of rope. Suspended with her the weight of her body supported only by that rope she was pulled inches away from the floor. With her body undefended like such they mete out blow after blow, enjoying the way her hanging body swayed with each blow. Yet time and time again, every strike failed to produce even a single tear to leave her eyes. And there was only so much they could do before they damaged her completely. And so she was left to hang in strappado for quite some time, only to be lowered down to avoid dislocation of her arms. Thrown into a moldy cell to contemplate her actions Like she would anyways hours after Markus stepped inside, slamming the door closed behind him. I know you're not repentant for what you have said to Lord Edgar, but I'm definitely sure you'll be begging for his mercy by the time night runs it's course. I hear he has had his slaves maimed and permanently injured for his own cruel entertainment...perhaps you ought to be more subservient now. he threatens. With the light of the moon slowly replacing the crimson colors of sundown, it was now time to march her to where she would be 'sold'.