Is a land of conquerors, ruled by a ruthless royal family well-known throughout the realms for their cruelty.
Is a wealthy kingdom whose royal family has ruled its people for generations with an iron fist. On the surface, their main exports are precious stones, ores and various minerals which are extracted from the numerous mines in the kingdom. Below the surface, they have a booming black market mainly concerned with trading the various peoples they've conquered. Its tradition for the children of the royal family to compete with one another, each trying to poison or kill each other. As long as it's done without the murderer being caught. This is to provide the strongest ruler to ensure the future of the kingdom and the royal bloodline. Each child has their own private wing of the castle, away from one another. To let one's guard down is to open yourself to death. Due to the stress of living under these circumstances, it is common for the royals to vent their emotions on servants. Rumor has it that some even keep slaves in the numerous hidden rooms spread throughout the castle structure.
Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 1:06 pm
Name: Princess Astrid Inrmis of Criaswen
Age: 21yrs old
Personality: A calculating and harsh young woman used to getting her way. Astrid has little patience and has no problem with killing or torturing others. If someone has failed to be useful to her and she doesn't see any point in keeping them around, she'll order them killed. She plays her cards close to her chest, seldom sharing anything about herself. Even her cook-staff don't know basic information about her like her favorite foods or if she's allergic to anything.
Likes: Poisonous plants, venting stress in unhealthy ways, inflicting pain upon others, breaking the will of others, jewels.
Dislikes: Being ordered around, anyone knowing her habits or just generally having knowledge about her.
Weapons: A large arsenal of weaponry and torture tools.
History: Astrid is the first born daughter to the infinitely cruel King and Queen of The Kingdom of Criaswen. She was pampered, spoiled, taught that she was superior to all others because of her pure bloodline from the time that she was born. Criaswen is known for producing the finest jewels and other valuable earth-base materials so she grew up very wealthy, wanting for nothing. She absorbed knowledge like a sponge, though she went through many tutors. Whenever she became dissatisfied with someone, she'd have them tortured to bring them into line. If she saw no use for them, she'd have them executed publicly. Astrid has always managed to amuse herself by hiring private servants to keep her company over the years. Recently, that hasn't been enough so in answer to her demands her parents decided to buy her a slave, or three. Astrid keeps them in a secret room, located in her private wing of the castle. She's first in line for the throne, but is one of seven heirs. Competition between the princes and princesses of Criaswen is fierce. Originally there were nine siblings but two passed away under mysterious circumstances.
Family: Ingrid (Mother, 41) William (Deceased, Father, 45) Richard (Deceased, Brother, two years older) Hildegard (Deceased, Sister, Richard's twin) Bernard (Deceased, Brother, two years younger) Joseph (Brother, 18 ) Victoria (Sister, 15) Arric (Brother, 14) Hector (Brother, 11) Ester (Sister, 11) Arthur (Brother, 6) Erwine (Uncle, ?) V (Aunt, ?)
Personality: He's an arrogant, narcissistic and overly confident young man. Just as all of his siblings were, he was spoiled rotten as a youth. He believes himself to be superior to everyone and deserving of everything he wants. He doesn't care if he has to take what he wants, he just goes for it. He's also short fused and very sensitive about the more delicate, somewhat feminine traits of his appearance. He'll do almost anything to manipulate someone to do what he wants.
Likes: Animals (Especially wild or exotic ones), wrestling, belittling others, solving problems with his fists, campfire stories, eating his own kills, playing pranks on others, puns (the cornier the pun the harder it'll make him laugh), biting people, boozin' it up, going for long rides on horseback, breaking things, thinking of himself ruling as king one day and the thrill of beating someone to death with his own hands.
Dislikes: Absolutely hates puzzles! Being told what to do, losing, being made a fool out of, when anyone gets in his way and vegetables.
Weapons: Has access to every weapon known to the continent. His favorites are double-handled swords, pole arms, clubs and maces.
History: Born the third son, he grew up adored but always having to try a little harder to get attention from his family. He was a stubborn child, who preferred sneaking away from his nannies and teachers to go play outdoors or spend time in the stable with the horses. He was taught how to hunt at a young age and would go on trips with his Uncle Erwine and his two older brothers, Richard and Bernard. He always looked up to and trusted them so after they'd both died, he felt completely alone. His temper grew worse from that point and he soon became well known throughout the country for his violent behavior.
Other: Has one blue eye, one green. Teeth are very sharp, otherwise pretty white and well kempt.
Titles: Margrave of Lhanbyrde, Margrave of Bleakburn (Border regions of Criaswen) Name: Ailean Catanach II Age: 62yrs old Profession: Retired military man, owns several of the mines in both provinces he rules over. Other: Widower at the age of twenty-four. No living descendants. Loves his country. Old friends with both King and Royal Advisor, having served with them in past wars. Distinguishing features are his bright blue eyes, stark grey hair, large mustache and a multiple old battle scars from the brutal battles he's survived.
Title: Egbert of Idstein, first born son of Ealhmund of Idstein. Name: Egbert Age: Fifteen Profession: Used to work at his father's tavern, now a slave. Other: Barely speaks the language of Criaswen. Has a weakness for drink and his personality only gets worse when he's drunk. He loves pranks, grossing people out, party games, high-energy music, wearing as little clothing as possible, breaking things, making people feel really uncomfortable, making people laugh, belching the alphabet and scaring people shitless. He's also just shorter than Astrid, just taller than Kenneth. He still has a lot of growing to do and thinks he'll be about as tall as his father who at the time of his (assumed) death was about 6'1".
Title: (Formerly known as) Baroness Yitta Borislava Kaluža of Lux (An old abandoned province within Criaswen) Name: Yitta Age: Sixteen Profession: Currently working as a maid at Blackwolf Hall, after being freed by Ken. Other: Has very thick, tightly curly red hair that's often so difficult to keep tidy that she wears it in tight braids. She was trained in sewing, music, prayer, reading, writing, singing, painting, chess and basic first aid. She's terrible when it comes to cleaning, being hopelessly clumsy and prone to dropping things. She prefers to get things done when they need to be done and always tries to make herself useful. History: Yitta was born into nobility. Her father died when she was young and her mother, too old to remarry, struggled to make ends meet. Her mother decided to take everything they had and offer it up as a dowry for Yitta's older sister in order to get the girl married off. The new husband agree to take care of the mother and daughter, but would not take Yitta. Her mother agreed to let him marry her eldest daughter, but decided to stay with Yitta. The two struggled but were unable to survive together. Poverty drove Yitta's mother to sell her into slavery at the age of thirteen. She was told to abandon her title and last name, only permitted to use her true first name. She lived as a slave, passing from master to master. This was in part due to her clumsiness, however also a contributing factor was how much she would physically fight off every new master. She gives thanks every night for the two men who freed her from that life and now tries to do her best in serving them.
Title: Prince Barthomieu Van Amee of Caritas (third son) Name: Barthomieu Van Amee IX (Ninth) Age: 17 Profession: Prince Other: Has a bodyguard that's three years older than him named Armand. Armand is always around. History:
Hector and Ester:
Title: Prince (fifth son) II Princess of Criaswen Name: Hector Inrmis II Ester Inrmis Age: 11yrs old Profession: Prince II Princess Other: Both twins share a deep connection with one another that's almost psychic. One can tell when the other is experiencing strong emotions and vice versa. Both are about five feet tall, with Ester being a little taller than Hector. II Hector is an avid reader, favoring topics like ghost, ghouls, spirits, myths, hauntings and mythology. He admires and respects Astrid and is well known for following almost any suggestion she makes even when someone else has already voiced it and been ignored by him. Hates Joseph and Ken. He likes feeling useful and being able to help, protect or benefit those close to him. He's average with a blade. II Ester is a very quiet girl. So far she's only spoken to her father and mother on separate occasions, and when she does speak her voice is weak due to how rarely she uses it. She's easily frightened, carries around a charcoal pencil and scroll to write down what she wants to say. She plays several instruments, like the lute, harp and horn. But her favorite is the piano. She's devoutly religious. When not with Hector she can be found in the castle's chapel, praying or communicating with others there. She also loves dogs, but is scared of any animal that doesn't act like it's really friendly. One bite is enough to keep her away forever. She practices archery because her mother wants her to but is terrible at it. Often relies on Hector whenever she's in trouble. Is best buddies with Ken, as the two of them are gentle souls. History: Hector and Ester were spoiled like their older siblings, but spent even less time with their parents. They creeped out everyone at first, due to how connected they were. Due to Ester's more delicate nature the two of them have only had two nannies executed and their current nanny has served them since they were eight years old.
Title: Prince of Criaswen Name: Arric Inrmis II (the second) Age: 14 Profession: Prince/Puppeteer Other: Arric is a conniving young man who would stab anyone in the back if it served his own interests. He's patient enough to form a plan and stick to it, even if it takes years or longer to be fully carried out. Known to treat his slaves very cruelly, removing body parts and often making them consume them or sometimes to force them to feed themselves to other people. He has a way of brainwashing most of his slaves, his most trusted among them in a man in his late thirties whose tongue he tried to pierce. The organ became infected, so to prevent the man's death Arric had it removed with a hot hot hot knife. Best buds with Joseph. Early childhood illness turned his brown hair white and has left him feeling weak. To this day he has a difficult time staying warm and is mildly allergic to certain foods and pollens. History: Caught a horrible illness when he was three years old and was quarantined on an island until he recovered. He didn't see any members of his family until he was nearly six years old. He was raised by several bitter elders, who all succumbed to the disease before he was considered safe to be around. After becoming sick, he wasn't spoiled like his siblings. His past illness made him weak and his weakness disgusted his parents. He had to protect himself and learned to be cunning because of that.
Personality: Ken is a very quiet boy, due to being sold as a slave, he has lost a lot of his perky attitude he once had. When he is around other slaves and no master or superior is around, he becomes a very lively and fun person, stating one day he will help free them so that they may return to their homes and lands. He can be very protective of other slaves and thus, gets rather beat up for standing against his superiors. He is also very clumsy.
Likes: Food, like any food, he has gotten several beatings for stealing food meant for lords and ladies, not slaves. He also loves the outdoors, the sunshine and green fields is what he misses as he spends most of his time working and becomes too exhausted to usually pay attention.
Dislikes: Beatings, although he will take it to prevent others from getting hurt, he wishes that he could punch back. The cold, being a slave meant little clothing depending on where he was and a cold room. He also hates the Queen and King, although they spared his life, he wish they hadn't sometimes. He also hates the princess's garden.
Weapons: None, it is illegal for a slave to read or write, you think they would let him carry more than a butter knife?
History: Kenneth was born to a working/lower noble class family, five siblings, who soon became one after they were enlisted in wars, his only sibling is his youngest sister. He loves her a lot, after having seen his parent's become deeply saddened when the others died. They didn't all die in war, his two eldest brother died in battle, another one got ran over by a loose horse and the fourth died when a rather high-class lord found out the man had fallen in love with his daughter and had impregnated her. He killed the brother in front of Kenneth which sparked a rage in him. The lord didn't see it coming, but the city guards did and they arrested Kenneth. He was brought to trial and declared guilty and sentenced to death, but the Queen and King pardoned him, stating he will become a slave instead and serve the Princess of the kingdom. It's been a year since he started to serve her and he wishes he could of ran away after punching that lord.
Many don't know, but Kenneth did receive an education since his family had some pull in the noble community. He knows basic math, two languages, art, reading and writing and not much, but a little bit of politics. He does not make it widely known, as it is illegal for him to even have an education. He is also not castrated; having not been born a slave.
Name: Bethany Drallin
Height: 4" 11'
Personality: Sarcastic and tough, she likes to pretend she is one of the men, refusing to wear woman type of clothing so she tries to constantly wear armor unless asleep. She is very tempermental about her height but also tries not to show how much she cares for the men in the camp.
Dislikes: Being called short is a big no no, she might not react right away sometimes, but I wouldn't eat anything she prepares for the next three days; otherwise hope their is a bucket nearby. She also dislikes dresses, heels, being unclean and having new recruits tell her she is a woman and to bed them.
Weapons: Sword and shield is her best weapon, but she can use a bow and knows medical quite a bit.
History: Bethany is the only daughter of King Drallin of the southern kingdom, it is mainly full of farmers and warriors and is against slavery. She was taken captive by the Crias army as a young girl and has since earned the trust of the commander of the southern Crias forces. At first she was a lowly servant, then she was allowed to join the army as a medic, only to pick up a sword one day and save the commander's life; which began her military career at 14. She says she has only been with the army for three years, but it's due to if Prince Joseph knew she had been a prisoner, he might really execute her. So far the main story to stick to is she is the commander's niece's cousin. She also the only virgin woman currently in the army; unwed and unlikely to be forced to give up her purity until she is married.
She also refuses to marry; the commanders doesn't wish her to die serving a country that kidnapped her.
Posted: Mon Jan 23, 2017 8:12 pm
The sun rose above the horizon, it's beautiful light brightened everyone's day unless you were Kenneth. The man barely made a grumble as little bits of light shone through into the cramped area he slept in; using a tattered blanket that had been trash one day, but Ken stated it would work for a blanket since he had none at the time. He was liked by other slaves, he kept their hope up that one day he would help them be free again. That day would be long coming if he couldn't get off the ground and start his schedule of chores. The princes; his master had set a list of chores to be done, but frankly he hated them as they were humiliating and the princess wouldn't know if he decided to delay them, would she? The sense of fear drove him to get up and dressed in plain clothes, he couldn't be seen in rags when about the castle, but he couldn't be seen wearing good clothing either. He was late, very late, the other slaves warned him too late that the princess awoke early today and was having trouble picking her outfit; the only thing to save him from being caught hopefully as he rushed about.Her parents waited in the dining hall, amused as Ken ran back and fourth preparing the princess's sitting area, the chair pillow plumped, the plate and silverware set straight as she desired to eat in that order. He knew she was only picky to put him through hell and it pissed him off to no end. He set the napkin down under her main plate of food, rushing back to the kitchen as he forgot the glass cup she so adored; where was it?!
It was gone, where had he put it, did someone else take it or- oh no. It was sitting in the trash, shattered and the only piece he knew to be it was a red and pink shaped piece of glass etched with her initials. "She won't notice a different cup today..." He mumbled to himself, grabbing another similar cup except no initials. He set it by her plate and stepped aside to await her presence. A princess couldn't seat herself appearntly and he knew he would have to go tidy her room while she ate; if she didn't notice the cup while he was still within reach.
She awakened with the rising of the sun, the first few beams of light breaking through the curtains of her room. It was unusual for her to sleep this late, Astrid hardly slept at all. Normally, she'd be awake and waiting in solitude until a suitable hour before calling on her servants. One of her sisters had died in their sleep. Officially, the people of her country believed it was the result of a long-fought illness. In truth, the impressions on the inside of her mouth left by her teeth told of being suffocated. There was no outward bruising. She looked peaceful, relaxed. But she'd been killed while defenseless, with no aide or ally to be had. Her killer went unknown, to this day. It was one of the others, it was foolish to believe otherwise. The palace was heavily guarded, each private wing full of tricks and traps to further protect the royalty. Death usually didn't bother her but this one for some reason haunted her.
So, Astrid typically slept only about thirty to forty minutes at a time. She relied on salves, tonics and makeup to keep herself looking as immortally beautiful as a fine work of art. The salves and tonics she made herself, unable to entrust another with the process. The makeup she tested on others first, just to be sure there was no toxin hidden within. She knew that she needed to create a reason to cover up her late waking. So, she went over to her closet and took out a few choice dresses. Then to her various chests of drawers to select suitable accessories. This would provide her with a good explanation for her servants, one better than letting them know that she was asleep and vulnerable. After walking across her room carefully to answer the door she let the servants in to help her dress. She took a little extra time to chose the dress she would wear, to let her created situation solidify in their minds.
Walking to the dining hall, where she would be sharing the day's first meal with her family, her mind was turning over more ideas. Their main meals were eaten together, as a family. It was their tradition, but always an intense and mentally draining experience. Her siblings would do whatever they could to pry into one another's minds. Anything to gain an advantage over each other with the ultimate goal being to use that information to end each other and thus, assume the throne. Astrid wasn't innocent of such tactics either. She was currently the favorite of her parents to succeed the throne and that made her a prime target. As she arrived though, something else took her attention. Her slave was there, as he was required to be. His stance was improper, and he looked to be ready to leave. She'd think it redeeming, if not for her suspicions which proved to be true as she looked to her place at the table.
Her siblings had yet to arrive, instead only her parents were here. So, she wasn't too late today. Her plate was ready with food, but something was off. The napkin was to be set beneath the plate before being served. She could tell that it had been handled hastily. She removed the cover, allowing the steam to escape as she examined it. There were creases in the napkin, there was residue on the plate which told her that it had been moved since the food had been set down. The silverware seemed to be aligned with the edge of the napkin, as it should be. But the glass... That glass! She recognized immediately that the glass was not the one she was accustomed to. She'd instructed him, even beaten it into him that her glass with her initials was to be ready for her at each of the main meals. "... Closer." She said stoically, though she was furious and no doubt, he knew it. As her slave answered her call, she grasped the back of his head firmly.
Then she shoved his face into the plate of food, in particular the soft yet surprisingly hot caramel apple stuffed french toast. It was spongy, yet thick enough to conform to his face and make it difficult to inhale. She held his face there for a full twenty-six seconds, not that she expected him to struggle too much to get away. A harsher punishment awaited him if he did. Then she released him and delicately raised the offending glass, swirling the dainty amount of cider within it. "Stand." She demanded and waited impatiently for him to do so. It was detestable how arrogant he could be with the small amount of power she's given him. Some may call it trust, but to her it was an allowance of some power to be given certain tasks like this. Suffocating him for a small amount of time in her piping hot breakfast hadn't quite sated her anger yet.
Posted: Mon Jan 23, 2017 11:22 pm
When the dining halls entered, he made sure to not look at the princess; sometimes he swore she could smell his worry. "I forgot to fold her napkin last night..." he pulled the seat out then pushed her gently in, stepping back and hoping she didn't need anything else. "Yes, princess." He said, coming in closer and leaning down to look at the food; was it too hot, too sticky? He'd have to tell the chef to cool the foods down because hot caramel syrup really hurt when your face was slammed into it and held down. it was natural for him to brace as he gripped the table cloth and locked his arms; knowing if he did it for a second more he'd wish he hadn't. He let go, the food held itself to his face and he gladly took a small bite of it; although syrup up the nose burned more than the heat from it. She let go and he fell back, gasping a bit and wiping the hot syrup off his face, shaking a bit as she told him to stand. "B-But..." He stopped himself, stumbling up and getting the syrup from around his eyes to see her holding up the glass of cider. "I-I'm sorry, princess! I went to get your glass and it was broken in the trash can." His face hurt, little red marks from the hot caramel, another slave took a step forward only for their master; the queen to quickly glare them down.
Ken didn't know what to do, she had tried to suffocate him, his face had red marks and she held up her glass without him knowing of what to do with it or why she held it up. He stared at her, going wide eyed and looking down quickly; he was going to have a horrible day, because so far he tried to struggle against a hot caramel french toast to the face, it was obvious he didn't finish his chores last night when she allowed him to go to bed, and he dared to look right at her and speak? It felt like day one all over again. Except his hair had grown long again and they weren't exactly alone so she could only do so much to him before her siblings arrived. If her siblings knew how she openly punished him, they would get inside her mind too easy. He was actually hoping her siblings would decide to come, but that would mean it would just delay and increase her beatings after breakfast.
Her cold, violet eyes narrowed slightly as his panicked red orbs met her gaze. This forbidden eye contact was another improper mark against him. "The closet. Go inside." She ordered, rising to her feet as she spoke. The closet she spoke of was the only one of its kind in the dining hall. It had at one point held cleaning equipment, but now was mostly empty. Shelves jutted out from the wall and there was one, placed at about a height of five feet from the ground, which stretched across the length of the closet. Even with the shelves and the narrowness of the empty space, there was still enough room for one to crouch inside, although quite uncomfortably. She waited for him to get inside and grasped the door before it could be closed. She raised the glass over his head and slowly poured the contents out. Her jaw was tense as she stared at him intently, looking for any further signs of insolence. When the glass was empty, she grasped it and moved as if to break it over his head, stopping just short of him.
She wanted to see if he'd flinch. But, really, she was angry enough with this situation that she did swing once more to shatter the delicate glass cup on his head. "Clean it up. Don't make a sound." She gave him one final order before shutting the door and locking it. She was fully aware of how dark it would be inside with the door closed. It would be difficult to find the shards of glass without feeling for them. When he'd finished, his fingers would be marred with several cuts. His tasks would be made all the more difficult and painful with the injuries. She waited for the ruined plate of food to be replaced, along with a new glass, before taking her seat. It was then that her siblings began to arrive, one after the other. Astrid suppressed her emotions, deciding that she'd have a greater punishment in store for that clumsy slave after the meal was over. With that thought in mind she turned an expressionless, unreadable face towards her family.
Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2017 4:14 pm
He couldn't believe he looked at her as if he was an equal, knowing another beating would come; maybe the plate? He looked back up quickly, shocked as her demand before looking back down and nodding, hearing her heels click behind him as he went toward the closet and opened it. "This is going to be uncomfortable..." He thought before crouching inside and turning to face her only to get the contents of her drink poured on him. Great, now he smelled like caramel cider french toast; and glass. He flinched the first time, then relaxed only for it to get broken against his head and he made the small sound of a yelp out of surprise. "Y-Yes, Princess." He frowned, sitting in the pitch black of the closet and slowly trying to find the pieces of glass.
The first couple shards, big ones were easy to find, but as he swept his hand across the rough floor, a few cut his fingers and he bit back sounds of crying. Finally, when all the pieces were in the cup of his shirt, he leaned back to relax, knowing full well she locked the door as it wasn't the first time he had been locked somewhere for extended periods of time. He remembered when he first came to the castle as her slave, she informed him of his bad posture, attitude, the way his hair was long and held back to how rude he was to dare look at her face. All of this with a beating by a vase,a pair of scissors and herself as she wasn't exactly a dainty princess. She hit hard and knew how to hold him down. He awoke quickly as he heard the door become unlatched and opened, another servant who quickly helped him out. "Where is the princess?" He asked, confused as it looked like breakfast was over. "She left to her morning tutor classes, she informed me you are to do all your chores and she will deal with you later." She took the glass into a small trash can before rushing off, having orders to not tend to his wounds so he left as well.
He cleaned himself up before starting his chores, stopping the cuts from bleeding and deciding not to wear bandages as they would get wet. "Of course...clean her room." He sighed, bringing his supplies to the room and begin to straighten the bed sheets and the drapes over the bed, tying them to their posts. He straightened up her make up and jewelry desk, her clothes into a hamper and to open the balcony doors. He took the basket of laundry down the hall, dumping it down a chute before returning the basket to the room. he would have to go clean her clothes after the room was finished. "She must have a lot of lessons today..." he thought maybe something was going his way. He set the bucket of water down and began washing the floor, the open balcony doors helped dry the floor faster as he remembered last time she slipped; he broke a rib.
It took him a few hours to get the room tidy, but as he finished, he began moving his supplies back to the closet down the hall, rushing as to try and make her forget his clumsiness this morning. He rushed with the bucket of water just as older man stepped out of the room and they collided. Ken fell backwards, the bucket spilling everywhere. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you!" he looked up, becoming shocked; this was one of the princess's tutors. "You filthy slave, watch where your going next time!" He picked Ken up by the front of his shirt and punched him straight in the jaw before letting go and walking off. Kenneth sat there, holding his jaw and in complete shock. A maid came by and helped him clean up the water, seeing the bruise form on Ken's chin worried her, but she didn't ask any questions. Ken took the empty bucket and set it in the closet, going down the flights of stairs to the laundry area. He knew he was being slow today, but his hands hurt, his jaw felt bruised and he was over all; already tired. He carried the heavy basket up the stairs, going to the princess's room and knocking. With no answer, he opened it and set the basket down. He relaxed, no princess yet and he could set the clothes away peacefully. He closed the balcony doors after finishing the laundry and moving to the corner of the room; a area where she could see him when she entered. He just had to wait for her to come and give him orders, but her bed looked to comfy. No No, last time he fell asleep in her room resulted in no sleep for two days.
As time passed, she found herself to be so busy that she'd forgotten about her foolish slave. For a while at least. She attended her morning sessions with her tutors, which took a little longer than she expected to. She was sure to let the offending tutor know how displeased she was, even though she was the one at fault. She decided to make a small visit to her family's library and was carrying the books back to her room on her own. She could have easily ordered a servant to do it for her. It didn't look all that dignified, either. But she was too impatient to wait for someone, so she left to return to her bedroom. She was walking down the hall when she heard a familiar voice shouting something. Astrid stepped around the corner of the hall in time to see her slave, Kenneth, on the floor and one of her tutors walking away from him. There was a mess all over the floor as well.
She recalled his earlier failures, fuming beneath a mask of stoicism. It would take him a short amount of time to clean up that mess, even less than she anticipated as she witnessed a maid come out of nowhere to assist him. He'd slipped up one to many times for her liking. Perhaps she'd been to generous with him? She had let him go to sleep early last night, without checking for herself to see if he'd finished all of his tasks. Then there was the time that she caught him stealing a roll of seasoned bread from the kitchen. He'd only gotten twenty lashings with a whip for that incident, quite merciful by her standards. It was only because she needed to attend to her personal garden that she let him off so easily. A normal punishment for stealing food was to starve him for two full days and for him to be bound to the ceiling by his wrists, left to hang there during resting hours.
Had he become arrogant these days? Had he even cleaned himself up from breakfast, or was he now a sweaty-stinky-sticky mess? She crinkled her nose just at the imagined sight of him like that, she didn't want to think of what horrible odor he'd be polluting her air with if he hadn't washed. If he hadn't, it would make the coming punishments all the worse for him. As she walked to her study, to place the books down, she turned over various suitable punishments to be used upon him. His hands should still sting, if he cleaned up the glass as she'd planned for him to. She thought of a way to utilize that pain. How she could punish him severely and leave him with lingering pains for some time after. She wished that she could humiliate him in front of the other slaves, but they all adored him. Some of the servants thought of themselves charitable, by spending time with the slaves. They gossiped, that gossip had a way of spreading so by that method she knew he had many friends among them. Even with consequences punishing them for standing up for each other, they adored him.
When she finally made it back to her room, she had with her two servants. They carried in a large, wooden box and set it down inside of the room for her. Her slave was waiting for her, in a way that was almost humble, in a corner of the room. She dismissed the servants and locked the door behind them, careful not to turn her back on Kenneth. Then she looked around the room. Judging by appearances, it looked like it was cleaned. The floor was clean, but was due for a polish. The curtains and various wood treatments around her ceiling and walls had all been dusted. Her bed look tidy and undisturbed. She regarded it with some surprise, she'd half expected to find him sleeping in it again. She was so sure that he'd gotten confident enough in getting away with a light punishment. The clothes were washed and everything appeared to be tidy. How well everything had been cleaned, she'd determine later. She turned her full attention to Kenneth now, taking a few steps towards him. "Light the fire." She ordered, and waited for him to respond appropriately.
After retrieving a small vile of fluid from the inside of her sleeve, she took a small handkerchief, decorated sweetly with pink lace. She applied some of the liquid to it, then closed the vial and returned it to her sleeve. The liquid was something of her own design, made from the poisonous plants in her garden. It would make uncovered skin burn and sting, this small terror was amplified when it came into contact with open wounds. So, of course, she wore gloves when handling it and was careful not to overwhelm the handkerchief to avoid getting any on her gloves. She opened the chest as he lit the fire and from within, extracted a copper whip with five spike-ended cords. Then she applied the liquid on the kerchief delicately onto the spiked whip heads. A glance was enough to tell her that he'd lit the fire as she'd requested. So, she turned to face him with the whip held tightly in one of her hands. "Come closer." She ordered and shortly repeated it as he wasn't moving fast enough for her liking. "Closer!"
As he grew closer she noticed the little marks on his face leftover from the hot syrup, a pleasing sight to be sure. She also noticed the unpleasant stank he was giving off. She was glad that punishment lingered with him physically, it would hurt for another few days. But there was something unusual about him, she looked him over skeptically, cold eyes returning to the bruise on his face. She was silent for a moment as she tried to recall if she'd done something to cause such a bruise. When it came to injuring him she usually preferred to harm his torso or legs, wherever it would be hidden by his clothing. Sometimes, like this morning, she lost her temper and hurt more visible areas. But she didn't remember injuring his jaw like that. With her free hand she reached out and took hold of his neck. "Raise your face. Look at the ceiling." She ordered, and once he'd done so she tilted her head slightly as she examined the bruise a little closer.
She could see the impression of a ring, maybe one or two darker spots which could be parts of a ring. What piece of furniture had those sort of markings? What could he have fallen against to have caused such a bruise? He was clumsy and foolish, despite how heavily he'd been trained. As she examined it in the light she noticed that it didn't look much like he'd hit something fully solid. She released him and set the whip down before returning to stand in front of him. She crossed her arms beneath her chest and regarded him coldly. "What have you done to your face?"
Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2017 10:43 am
He leaned against the wall, how long would she be? His legs were tired, his hands hurt to move and stung from cleaning the room and doing laundry. The little sting marks on his face still held a slight heat and the cut below a piece of his hair was the only thing he had time to bandage up. Mainly it had two stitches and a bit of skin colored ointment over it to hide there was a wound there. He looked up as the door opened before quickly looking back down once he was assured it was the princess. She had a crate with her, held by two servants who set it down and left, he was distracted by the crate; and scared. "Y-Yes, Princess." He went over to the fireplace, setting the wood within and using a match to light it. It took a few tries, the match broke numerous times before he got it lit and set it in the fireplace. He stood up and turned to the princess, looking to the open crate then to her hands. "Hot caramel wasn't enough today...glass was to generous."
He slowly stepped forward, hearing her yell made him step faster until he was in front of her. He gasped as she took a hold of his neck, startled but not moving as he didn't wish to get hurt further than he was about to. He tilted his head up to the ceiling as she examined the bruise. It was a dark color, little marks to resemble rings and very hurtful to touch. "Why is she worried about a bruise?" He thought, tilting his head back down as she set her stuff down and turned back to him. "I was returning my supplies to the closet down the hall when I ran into one of your tutors, Princess. H-He got mad and punched me for getting water on his shoes and bumping into him." He didn't lie, what would benefit him to lie to her? Then again, it was the tutor's words against his if she talked to them both.
He stood there in silence after telling her, trying to think of what she would do if she believed the tutor instead of him, but Ken was loyal to the Princess; despite her way of treating him. God, he remembered just stealing some bread for another hungry slave, those marks had healed over the couple months, but when she had dealt them, he had barely been able to do his work without pain. Another time he had taken the blame for a broken vase, she had him step on every shard of the vase then pick it up. It was why the other slaves and servants adored him, he had taken several beatings for them. He had been the brunt of most of her make up as well; a reason as to why he knew how to apply it was cause she had used several on his arms, only once finding a poisoned one and thankfully Ken knew how to treat the horrible rash and fever that came with. The only thing he didn't do; unless she was mad, was taste test her food, simply because she didn't want a slave eating the same plate as her.
That reminded him, he hadn't ate breakfast, or lunch. His stomach growled at the thought and he worried she would hear; it would just prove her point that he slept in, missing the little scraps they gave slaves early in the morning. He had also worked so hard to finish both today and most of last night's tasks, that he missed the only other time a slave got fed, around noon. He was also tired, staring at her bed until she arrived had just made him more drowsy, but he knew she wouldn't let him sleep for another couple hours as he still had to prepare her plate for dinner, tidy up her study room, weed her garden and prepare for when it became bedtime for most except her.
One of her lower eyelids twitched as she processed his statement. He was accusing one of her tutors of beating him. She briefly recalled what she'd witnessed earlier, her slave on the ground and the tutor walking away. But that wasn't a decent enough account to prove the man had done this to her slave. It went without saying that to abuse her property was to disrespect her. Kenneth Odilo was her property. To disrespect her was to guarantee oneself a slow, agonizingly painful and humiliating death. It was the equivalent of signing one's life away and she doubted that man was foolish enough to test her. There was always the chance that like her slave, the tutor had become arrogant. But the man seemed very eager to stay alive so she doubted it. Still, her slave rarely ever lied to her. He would lie to protect other slaves and servants from harm. But when it was his fault the closest he ever came to lying was to make excuses.
She was about to speak, to probe a little further into this story of his, when she heard a loud gurgling noise. "What was that..?" She said aloud, shocked by the atrocious noise. She clenched her jaw, her anger calling her to dismiss the investigation. How dare he. She thought to herself angrily eyes looking him over as she decided what she would do to him. She grasped his jaw and squeezed the bruise there as hard as she could. She let go and swiftly picked up the whip again. "Remove your shirt." She demanded, moving one of her feet behind her to get some good momentum going as she held the whip ready.
Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2017 5:58 pm
He waited for her judgement, to decide if he was telling the truth or if she believed some high-flung tutor. The sound of his stomach had thrown any chance he had of sleep tonight as she swiftly became angry. "I-I'm sorry, Princess!" He stepped back, scared as she grabbed is chin, hurting the bruise further and then picking her whip up. He was shaking, slow to remove his shirt and keep it in one hand. He didn't know whether he was going to get it from behind or in front, he still turned around to face his back to her and get on his knees. This wasn't the first time he had been whipped, the evidence of scars on his back, torso and upper arms. He also didn't want to let her know he held tears in his eyes. This would hurt and he didn't know what she had rubbed onto her weapon of choice. He lifted his blonde hair up, to prevent blood from getting into it or the whip to get tangled, it was just past his shoulders and not brushed since the events of this morning. It would take hot water to get the sticky syrup out of his hair.
Astrid punished him well into the afternoon. By the time she had sated her anger, it was an hour until nightfall. She started with the whip and continued on to using a wooden club until she decided to forgo the tools and just hit him. She'd kicked him with the pointed toes of her heels and smacked him, instead of punching him. She was thinking of the already stinging wounds on his face and how she wanted to utilize those to further his pain. Finally, she stopped and took a few steps away from him. She was a bit out of breath but the pent up emotions she'd been suppressing bothered her no longer. His torso and legs were a mess, apart from slapping his face she'd aimed for areas that would normally remain hidden. She sat down upon the cushioned bench that was located at the end of her bed and looked him over once more. She paid a little attention to the scars already covering his skin. The blood sprayed across her freshly cleaned floor bothered her more than any damage to his body.
He wouldn't be able to tend to her at dinner, he was in no condition to now. She wasn't too fond of the idea of using one of the servants, she trusted them even less now that she had Kenneth. If they got wind of what she'd done to him, they might try something with her food. Of course, she'd find them and deal with them accordingly. But she wanted to avoid any discomfort, as even with her unhealthy pastime she herself greatly disliked to be in pain. She retrieved a blanket from her closet. It was orange, blue and green and a little too masculine for her tastes. She tossed it at him. "Clean yourself and the floor before you leave. Never appear before me again in such a filthy state. You are mine. When others look at you, they think of me. If I catch you like this again, your punishment will be much worse next time." She let out a soft sigh after she finished speaking and turned her attention towards her own appearance. It wasn't much, but some of his blood had gotten on her dress and more on her gloves. She'd have to change clothes. No doubt some had gotten on her skin and she'd need to redo her makeup.
She looked over at him once more, not satisfied with how slowly he was moving. Had he moved at all? She considered yelling at him to get out but decided to be a bit merciful. She'd allow him time to collect himself. She was feeling more relaxed now, so she wasn't in the mood to punish him again if he defied her.
Posted: Wed Jan 25, 2017 7:00 pm
He felt like it would never end, first the lashes, then the smacking and clubbing. How much anger did she have held in today? He sat on his knees, breathing just as heavy as her, but trying to stay quiet; afraid of her. "Y...Y-Yes, Princess." He said it softly, the bruise on his jaw swollen from her smacking it, grabbing it and hitting it. She threw a blanket to him and he wrapped it around himself, using his shirt to get the bits of blood off of her bedroom floor. He attempted to get up, his wounds flared and burned, but he managed to stand; although wobbly. He removed himself from the room and down the hall to his small quarters. The looks from late night servants was of worry and shock that he was so hurt. Another slave came to his room, helping to treat the wounds. "Why did she hurt you so bad?" Was the common question. "I was really clumsy today....tch, that hurts." He winced, the burning wouldn't go away easily and he suspected another of her poisons, something he'd have to take a bath to get rid of.
A servant came by and informed him he wouldn't serve the princess at dinner; much to his shock, Ken refused to let another serve the princess. What if she hurt them too? He got cleaned up, using make up from a maid to cover the burn marks and bruise on his chin as much as he could before getting different clothes. He had to hurry, it was less than an hour until the royal family ate. He took deep breaths as he moved to the kitchen to gather the napkins and silverware, she had her own silver set of forks and knives and spoons. He set it down, setting the napkin down neatly folded for when she would use it on her lap. He set the dinner plate down gently, having watched the chef prepare it himself and taste the slightest bit to make sure it was safe. He stood there by the chair, looking to the other slaves who also waited for their master to come so they could be seated by the slaves. Ken did feel better when standing straight, it stretched a few cuts, but helped the burning and after the princess would come, he could go take a bath in the basement and wait until he knew most were asleep to gather food.
She changed clothes and tidied up her appearance with the help of one of the female servants. Her dress was lighter and more feminine than the other had been. Sadly, if her slave couldn't wash out the blood stains, she'd have to have the other dress burned. She'd been so busy herself that she'd forgotten to have her own lunch, or even a simple tea break. It was near enough to dinner that she decided to wait. She spent the remainder of her time in her study, looking over the new books she'd brought there earlier. When it was finally time, she selected a maid to follow her and attend to her during her meal in place of her slave. She fully expected him to be in his room, recovering from the harsh beating she'd given him. So it was difficult for her to hide her surprise when she saw him waiting in his usual place by her seat. She dismissed the maid and strode over, violet eyes regarding him coldly as she passed him by.
She stood for a moment, debating what she should do about this insubordination. He looked terrible. He still stank of sweat, with an additional scent of makeup. Had he some plan for revenge? Had she been too gentle with her punishment? She had hardly expected him to be able to move comfortably, let alone perform his normal tasks. The door on the opposite side of the room opened and in entered one of her brothers. He was younger than her, but not by much. Her choice had been made for her. She sat down as her slave pushed her chair in for her. She said nothing to Kenneth, letting him leave without so much as a dirty look. Well, another one at least. She could tell by the smirk on her bloated brother's face that thanks to Kenneth, this would be a particularly unpleasant meal.