NEW BEGINNING

My heart raced as I nervously chewed on my lip, avoiding any eye contact with the king. Seriously, what had I just done? The consequences with Mistress Eleanor could be a real nightmare. I couldn't believe he had just spilled that in front of everyone. Unbelievable.

At that very moment, I badly needed the ground to do me a solid and swallow me whole. Being here was the last thing I wanted, and if there was a way to bolt from this situation, you bet I'd be gone in a flash.

Mistress Eleanor leaned in, her voice laced with hesitation. She nudged me lightly and quizzed, "Enlighten me on what his Majesty is referring to right now"

Not a single word escaped my lips as I maintained my intense stare at the ground, still silently wishing it would just open up and swallow me whole. It was like I was waiting for a cosmic alarm clock to jolt me awake back on Earth, freeing me from this stupid nightmare.

Then, the next question from the king hit me like a gust of wind. "So, where are you from?" I anxiously rubbed my hands together, slowly lifting my head to answer, trying to shake off the feeling of being caught in a strange and unsettling dream.

"I, uh... I'm from around here, Ronoki, you know, just... here," I stammered, struggling to maintain eye contact and sound convincing. All eyes in the room zeroed in on me, intensifying my discomfort. Wasn't this the perfect moment to make a hasty exit?

"You're not from here," he declared, his scrutiny unwavering. It felt like his gaze was piercing through my skin, leaving me flustered. Seriously, could he just stop staring at me like I was some rare exhibit in a museum? I silently wished he'd retreat to his dark cold place he calls a room and spare me this excruciatingly awkward situation.

Hold on, how on earth did he figure out that I'm not from Ronoki? That's a puzzle. No one has ever caught on before, so how could he? Maybe he meant something else entirely. Perhaps it wasn't about my origin...

I gulped, preparing to respond, but before I could, he turned to Mistress Eleanor and dropped a bombshell: "How much did you pay for her?"

Wait, what? That's an incredibly strange question to pop at this moment. I really hope he's not entertaining the  idea of buying me right now. There's no way he'd want to do that, right? What on earth could he possibly want from me?

"About 500 thousand zen, Your Majesty," Mistress Eleanor answered, her voice doing a nervous salsa while her head remained in a deep bow, avoiding any direct eye contact.

The room turned into an arena of stillness, the kind that makes you hear your own heartbeat. The king seemed to be sizing me up, and after what felt like ages, he released a sigh and said, "Very well then, you'll get triple that amount. Send her to the palace where she will be staying from now on as my Mistress." Gasps and whispers of surprise swirled through the crowd, mingling with the shock reverberating through me.

My mouth fell wide open, as my suspicions were finally confirmed . The king wanted to buy me out of this place, but why the sudden interest? What were his intentions? Was I to be a pawn in his royal game, discarded when he grew bored? If I had just swallowed my pride earlier and gone with the flow, maybe this dramatic twist could have been avoided. Why does the freaking king want me as his mistress

"Seriously, Your Majesty?" Mistress Eleanor's voice rang out, carrying amusement. She was trying to contain her excitement but was doing a poor job at hiding it. Honestly, I couldn't understand why she deserved any happiness, especially not at my expense.

The king, without offering a response, simply turned his back and strolled away from the unfolding spectacle. I let out a sigh of relief, finally thankful to be free from his piercing gaze.

The moment the king vanished from view, it was like I could practically hear Mistress Eleanor doing a victory dance behind me. Joy for her, but certainly not for me. I couldn't help but ponder the pressing questions: Why had the king bought me? What on earth did he expect from me?

√

√

√

√

"I don't know how you did it, but it doesn't matter. I shall forever remember this kindness," Mistress Eleanor exclaimed in delight the next day, as she bathed me with milk herself.

Ever since I returned to the brothel, she has been exceptionally kind to me and even forbade any men from approaching me, as I was exclusively for His Majesty. She insisted on bathing me with milk, despite my pleas to do it myself.

Now, imagine every part of your body being touched and caressed by this peculiar woman. I couldn't tolerate it, but I had to endure it. Apparently, it wasn't just about the money; it was the fact that the King desired one of her women, not just for a one-night stand, but as a permanent mistress.

I have been listening to her incessantly talk about how this marks a significant milestone in her business and how she's finally surpassed her rival, Mistress Coraline. But why does competition even have to be a part of this? Why must young women be subjected to servitude for her personal and selfish desires?

After bathing me in milk, she began to dress me in the finest, most expensive silk. She carefully styled my red hair and adorned it with shiny hairpins. With a delicate touch, she applied light makeup to my face while admiring her work.

"You should appreciate that I've taken care of you with these hands of mine," she remarked, closely inspecting her handiwork. "You possess a unique beauty; it's no wonder His Majesty chose you," she added.

I didn't respond to any of her compliments; instead, I mustered a forced smile.

"You should be more cheerful about becoming a royal mistress," she remarked, "these girls here would do anything to be in your position. Just imagine serving that perfect, handsome king for the rest of your life, rather than these older men. You should be more grateful."

She was correct in her assessment, serving the king seemed like a better option, but a life as a mistress wasn't my true desire. Well, to be honest, I had never truly desired anything for myself ever since the day I was born. Nevertheless, it didn't matter; I was certain that this wasn't what I wanted at all.

"The carriage is ready," one of her bodyguards informed as he entered the room. Mistress Eleanor nodded, turning her attention to me.

"Now, it's time for you to depart," she said. "You're like a bride heading to her husband's house... though, unfortunately, you're nothing more than a mere mistress, here solely to fulfill his desires." She suddenly recalled something and hurried to her wardrobe, retrieving a nightdress.

"Oh yes, before I forget," she continued, "whenever you are to see His Majesty, wear this. If you want to preserve your life, undress slowly for him and wait for him to make a move. I strongly advise against provoking the king, at least if you wish to survive. His Majesty has a history of being rather unforgiving."

Now, here I am, inside a carriage, on my way to the palace to become a full-time entertainer for the king. I'm not entirely certain about what lies ahead, but I have a feeling it won't be something pleasant.

This marks the beginning of my hardships. As if I haven't endured enough torment on this earth, I now have to face another ordeal at the hands of this king. I'm dreading it, to say the least.

Yet, one burning question remains unanswered: What exactly does he desire from me, and why did he choose to purchase me?