The town was bustling as usual, Nyx watched on as the people moved about their lives from the servants quarters. She sat near the window, it's almost hard to believe that two years ago all of this was new to her. One day, she was dressed in the finest of clothes and approached with the utmost respect to waking up in a strange place and treated like a dog. No idea how far from home she was. Nyx long abandoned the idea of returning, not like she had someone waiting on her to return.
She was alone. She thought she got over it but it stifled her even if she didn't want to admit it. She hated it all, the people, the customers she had to serve, her life. There was no point to it, yet she continued to live. She often wondered why she didn't end it all, is she waiting for something? If so, what? She sighed and got up. Nyx should be spending this time resting but for some reason she wants the fresh air. Grabbing a cloak she threw it over herself and silently stuck out. She walked through the busy city streets instantly regretting her decision to leave. The bitter life of being owned was all she had. Why didn't she just run away? Where would she go? How would she live without a penny to her name? It would all lead back to living the way she does now but with less protection.
Nyx finally got herself out of the crowds of heated bodies. She stopped outside a bar and leaned against the walls. She looked at the large castle that lied at the center of the city. Oh how it taunts her. Looking all noble and strong. Housing within it's walls a lineage of long ruling kings. People who are living with luxuries she could only dream of. It angered her but there was nothing she could do about it. Snapped out of her thoughts, someone stopped besides her not noticing her there. She stared, it was a man, more like a young boy.
He stood just off to the side, leaning awkwardly as if he didn't know what to do with his hands. His clothes were simple—too simple—but they fit him too well, clean and untouched by the dust of the street. His dark hair was a little too neatly trimmed, and his skin too uncalloused for a commoner. But what struck her most were his eyes—clear, curious, and far too soft for this part of the city. He didn't belong here. Nyx could tell that much. And yet, there he was, looking around like a lost boy playing at being ordinary. That peaked NYX's attention. It would hurt to check it out.
"Hello there." Nyx finally spoke.
He jumped a little surprised by her voice and looked in her direction, "Umm, hello," He said a bit awkwardly.
"Are you alright?" He asked her.
Nyx was surprised by his question, it's been a while since she was spoken to as more than a toy for people's desire. She smiles softly at him
"Yes. Just needed some air."
He looked at her worn out cloak,"It's a bit cold for a walk, isn't it?"
"It's colder inside."
The stranger continued to stare finally taking in her marvelous features,"Do you come out here often?"
"Only when I want to remember what freedom smells like." She laughed.
"What's your name?"
"Does it matter?" She saw no reason to give him her name.
He noticed her bruised wrist but tried not to stare but Nyx saw and said nothing.
"What did you mean by remembering what freedom smells like?" He questioned.
She chuckled, "Isn't it obvious? I'm a whore. I work at the brothel just down the street."
He didn't know what to say. All he could think about is what could make someone like her end up a prostitute?
"Why do you work there?"
"I see we have a lot of questions but I'm out of time. If you want to talk, maybe you should rent me. I have to go now, it was nice talking to you mister."
She left him standing there. If he was a man of values as she perceived him to be, he would never step foot into that brothel. But who knows. Back at the brothel, Nyx along with the other girls that were working the night shift, were all making themselves presentable under the careful watch of their owner's men. Their owner's men always looked at the girls with either lust or disgust. Nyx hated it, not like most of them wanted this but this is their life. They were allowed to punish the girls as they saw fit and sometimes that unchecked power was left out of control. They did nothing but take even more advantage of the girls. Nyx had no interest in making things harder for herself, she became whoever they needed her to be. Submissive? Sure. Sexy? Ok. Assertive? Yeah. Nyx got pretty at reading people and figuring out what they wanted. Being flexible saved her more times than she could count but that doesn't mean this is the life she wanted. Never.
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