The Shrinemaiden (The Maidens) (38 page)

“With all my heart, milord,” she whispered, and he drew her to him again.

Annie Eppa is a writer or erotic romance and erotica. When not writing, she can be found gallivanting all over the world as a freelance photographer. She has a strange fascination with matryoshka dolls, and once lived in a treehouse.

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http://annieeppa.wordpress.com
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New information for her erotic fantasy romance series,
the Maidens
, is on Goodreads, with the two other books in the series due out in 2014. View them here:

The Shrinemaiden
|
The Slavemaiden
|
The Silvermaiden

She was dozing when they finally came for her. She woke with a gasp, as cold water was thrown over her, drenching her hair and clothes. “Time to get cleaned up, missy,” said a female voice, and in the darkness Kinlee could make out a stout woman with a no-nonsense face. Two younger girls stood on either side of her, one holding an empty bucket, the other a torch, which she paced on a small metal ring on the wall.

“We’ll need to get you scrubbed down for your party tonight,” she continued, holding out a key. Any other time Kinlee would have lunged for it, tried to wrestle it away from the other woman and free herself, but her arms and legs felt numb from hours of inactivity, and she was too tired to so much as move.

She felt the blessed sounds of her manacles being removed, and she would have crumpled to the ground once her wrists were free, but the woman caught her easily before she hit the floor. “Tut, tut,” she tsked, “the men should have treated you better, prisoner or no. Come, come; we don’t have much time to clean you up, so we’re going to do it here, as you’ll be off to the ballroom in less than an hour.”

“Why?” Kinlee mumbled, but the woman paid her no attention, only chattering away as she was stripped off her tattered clothing, and then scrubbed and sponged by the three women. The water and washcloth felt good against her skin; it felt like she had not had a bath in months, and she was grateful for the little she was accorded. She was then dressed in a fresh set of clothes, though it was more like an over-sized tunic than anything else. It barely reached down to her knees, and she was given nothing more than straw sandals to wear on her feet.

“The guards are going to come and bind you again, dearie,” the matronly woman said, soothing, “I’ll tell ‘em not to be as rough on your hands when they do - they’re careless enough that they’ll chuck the skin off you without thinking! I promised milord that none o’ the men will lay a hand on you, and they know better than to cross me.”

Auctions
? But the guards had arrived, and her wrists were once more being bound, though not as painful as before, like the woman promised. Both men had to carry her through the dank corridors into stairs leading back up into what she presumed was the Sarcopian palace, with the woman behind them, chattering all the while.

“- not a bad man, he is. Takes a little getting used to, but his heart’s in the right place. I’d been with his family since he was but a wee little duck, and I know he’s alright. Proud as peacocks, the boys are, but fair and kindly - ”

Kinlee barely listened to the woman’s chatter, was glad for the background noise as her mind tried to process what was happening. Was she to be executed? No - they would have executed her without bothering to wash her, so it must be something else. She winced as they emerged into the brightly lit hallways of the palace, her eyes unused to the light.

“ - it’ll be over soon, just like that, dearie, and then you’ll be okay. Can’t do much about the crowd, I’m afraid. We’ve been at war for so long, and with everyone thinking the king’s mad as he’s said to be (don’t quote me on this, dearie, but it’s what many people are saying) so it’s got everyone on edge. They need little things like this to get all their anger out. Not a very good way, I suppose, but I’m not in charge of the system - “

Kinlee could hear doors swinging open, and shouts filling her ears. When she opened her eyes, she was stunned to find the room full of people, every pair of eyes turned eagerly in her direction.

“Chin up, dearie,” the woman behind her whispered, before the doors closed, “it’ll be over before you know it.”

She was led toward a small stage that had been set up, where a pair of wooden planks nailed diagonally over each other stood. She barely resisted when she felt them handcuff her to that strange device, and the cheers of her audience grew louder.

“We have a lovely little red-haired slave next,” someone close by announced, “lovely to look at, hardworking and energetic, has all her teeth. Like the others, she has not been touched by the soldiers since her capture, so let’s start the bidding at 500 marks.”

“A thousand!” Someone roared.

“Fifteen hundred!” Someone else countered.

The numbers barely registered in Kinlee’s brain, her mind spinning. This was an auction. She was being auctioned off, to the highest bidder. The very idea of it briefly snapped her out of her daze, and she started to struggle again.

It only seemed to increase the bidders’ appreciation, the numbers climbing higher and higher. Kinlee shut her eyes and bowed her head, not wanting anyone else to see her humiliation.

“Eight thousand,” a familiar voice said, outbidding the last price by several thousands, and a few people gasped.

“Eight thousand five hundred,” another bidder began, but was interrupted before he could even finish.

“Ten thousand,” the first voice said resolutely.

There was a pause, most of the people not wanting to bid for so high a price for so mere a slave.

“Ten thousand two hundred,” someone else finally called out.

“Twelve thousand,” the first responded, without pause.

This time, there were no other takers. “Sold!” A voice boomed, and Kinlee felt hands releasing her from the contraption, guiding her back down. “To General Connor Falen, for twelve thousand marks!”

Kinlee looked up at her bidder - and saw the infuriating general from before, watching her with those same dark eyes, that same arrogant smirk as he took in the shock on her face.

“Hello again, pet. Looks like you’ll be mine for a little while longer.”