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Chapter 8: Ambush in the dark

Natalie

Another grueling day of kitchen work was finally drawing to a close. As the other slaves cleaned and stored the last of the cooking implements, I sagged against the wall just trying to stay on my feet.

Every muscle in my body screamed in protest. I had been assigned all the most strenuous tasks today - hauling endless buckets of water and firewood, scrubbing massive cauldrons encrusted in burned food.

It was petty punishment from the head cook for breaking that other slave's nose during my fight last week. Not that she needed much excuse to torment me these days.

Since Lucas had turned the others against me with those vile rumors, I was scorned and ostracized by slaves and guards alike. Only Mary still dared talk to me, whispering encouragement during the brief moments we weren't under close scrutiny.

The isolation gnawed at me. I had never felt so alone, even when Lucas first claimed me as his personal whipping girl. Back then I still drew strength from defying him openly.
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