05 A Little Mercy

Camila

The words stung each one, reminding me of my place in this world. I felt a lump in my throat as I tried to hold back tears. The injustice of it all was suffocating. 

My mother and I were just trying to survive, doing our best in a world that saw us as nothing more than property. Mirabel's cruel words made it clear that no matter how hard we tried, we would always be judged and looked down upon.

My mother squeezed my hand, a silent signal that she understood my pain. Her eyes, usually so strong, were filled with sadness. I knew she felt helpless, unable to protect me from the harshness of our reality.

As I stood there, listening to Mirabel's hateful words, I felt a mix of emotions. Anger at the unfairness of our situation, sadness for the loss of my dignity, and a deep, aching longing for a better life. 

I wanted to scream, to tell Mirabel that she was wrong, that I had never aspired to be with Ronan. But I knew it wouldn't make a difference. In her eyes and the eyes of everyone, I was just a slave, unworthy of respect or understanding.

The kitchen seemed to close in around me, the air heavy with tension. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I couldn't let Mirabel see how much her words affected me. I had to be strong for my mother and for myself.

"We can only hope for freedom," I whispered to myself, a quiet vow to keep fighting, to keep dreaming, even in the face of such cruelty. One day, I promised myself, things would be different. One day, we would be free.

Mirabel laughed, her voice dripping with mockery. 

"You overrate yourselves," she said, her laughter echoing in the kitchen. "We will wait to see how all this turns out," she added before leaving. 

I knew deep down she was right. 

The rest of the day was filled with fear and uncertainty. I had never felt so anxious, always looking over my shoulder, dreading what might come next. 

When it was time to serve dinner, Madam Melania specifically asked that my mother and I serve the food. This was unusual because I worked for Young Master Ronan, and my mother and I were never allowed near the Master and his Madam. I knew something was wrong.

My mother's eyes were filled with worry. The dark bags under her eyes showed how troubled she was. I knew she cried when she thought I wasn't looking. I wished I could take it all back. If only what happened had been within my control.

We served the meal with trembling hands. Master Ronan wasn't at the table, which didn't surprise me after everything that had happened. It took a lot for me to serve him and look at him. Pretending nothing happened. It took a lot. I was grateful he wasn’t at the table.

As we stood by the wall on standby ready to serve should they need anything, Madam Melania decided to speak.

"Glenda," she said, and my mother answered as respectfully as possible.

"I do not want your daughter in my house anymore," Madam Melania declared. 

My mother immediately fell to her knees, begging for mercy.

I knelt by the wall where I was standing, trying not to seem defiant, but my heart was breaking. How long were we going to live like this? Always on our knees, head bowed with no voice of our own?

Madam Melania's words felt like a death sentence. I wanted to scream, to tell her how unfair this was, but I knew it wouldn't help. The humiliation was unbearable, and the fear of what would happen next was overwhelming.

As my mother pleaded, tears streaming down her face, I felt a deep sorrow. This wasn't just about me; it was about our survival. 

Being thrown out of the house meant losing everything we had, our only source of shelter and food. The desperation in my mother's voice mirrored my own internal despair.

The silence in the room was deafening as we knelt there, waiting for Madam Melania's verdict. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a painful reminder of our dire situation. I could only hope for a miracle, some small act of kindness that would save us from this fate.

I whispered a silent prayer, begging for mercy, for a chance to make things right. 

"Camila has cost us a lot. I do not want to see her face in my house," Madam Melania said, her voice filled with bitterness. 

Tears streamed down my face. I couldn't imagine being separated from my mother, but it seemed that was to be my reality.

"Do not separate mother from child, Melania," General Sergey interjected. "What she did isn't grave, and they both have no recollection of the event. 

Since Ronan isn't sure what happened and no one can prove it was premeditated by Camila, she will serve outside the building to prevent anything from happening again and to keep you from seeing her so you can be happy. 

But I won't send a young, innocent woman to the streets because you are hurt, Melania. And that is final."

A wave of relief washed over me. I would still be allowed to stay on the property, even if I couldn't enter the main building. It was a better deal than ending up on the streets, where I would be at risk of being captured and sold. 

My blond hair and blue eyes always gave away my roots, making me an easy target. I was grateful for the kindness shown to me.

"Thank you, master," I said, my voice shaking with relief. 

"I promise to stay out of sight. I promise," I added through my tears, feeling a mix of gratitude and sorrow.

General Sergey remained silent, but his decision had spared me from a worse fate. I didn't stay to complete the dinner. Instead, I left the main house and walked back to the cottage allocated to my mother and me on the property. 

Each step felt heavy, knowing this would be the last day I would set foot in the main house.