Chapter 139-Branded beast
"What are you thinking about?"
A beautiful female pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside, Her feet touching the cold marbled floor with practised grace.
Every inch of her refined, poised and regal. At first glance, one might mistake half a royalty, as was the intention of her training.
"What could I possibly be thinking about? Since birth, I have been unfortunate, Mk. I’m not allowed a mind of my own. You know that."
Mk looked at her with a bit of pity in his eyes. His heart cried out to her, but there was nothing he could do to change her situation or his own.
Indeed, "unfortunate" was the perfect word to describe their situations. Since they are young, their bodies have gotten used to the cold touch of chains, metals whips, and four by ten walls around them.
The term "freedom" was a myth they could only hear whispers about through the walls.
"You’re lucky, you know." Mk started, feeling as though the opportunity that came knocking at their door was a blessing for her. " Not many of us get to have that kind of... luck."
"Literate people refer to see luck as when opportunity meeting preparation. I’ve been prepared for this since the very day that I was bought into this house," she uttered indifferently. "It is the very reason I was branded, the reason for every skill that has been embedded in me, and the reason for the mercy I received at the back end call of my masters. It’s not luck, Mk."
"But it is."
She smiled. Her pale lips were barely able to contain the humour she found in MK’s words. Unlike him, she saw the opportunity for what it was: a means to change a master, nothing more.
She walked over to the bed where an unconscious bride was sleeping peacefully. She traced her finger over the girl’s cheek, The softness beneath her touch sent shivers down her spine.
Her skin was flawless too, It was soft and delicate as well but it had not been moulded under delicate circumstances but that of war; Struggling every single day to please her Masters by learning how to be as refined and with proper etiquette as the ladies of society so as to be useful and not discarded.
Unlike the bride on the bed, her life wasn’t as soft as the silk underneath her sleeping frame.
"The groom will be here soon. Get ready now!" Mk reminded.
She leaned her head down next to the sleeping bride and whispered next to her ear, "I’m going to borrow your groom in this life. I’ll owe you this one... you’re welcome to come to collect this debt in our next life."
Without wasting another second, she stripped out of her clothes.
Mk turned around, alarmed. He had not expected her to take off her clothes right in front of him. As every girl raised by the Madam, he knew that she was pure, untouched by any man, and could not understand why she would discard propriety and change right in front of him.
"You could have asked me to step out before you undressed!"
She threw a glance back at him, Her eyes were cold and without feeling. " My body has always belonged to the pretty poisons. Now that I’m being traded off to someone new, he’ll own me. I’ll live and die as per his wish. What’s the point of giving so much courtesy to a body that does not belong to me," She replied icily.
Giving no more face to MK She proceeded to get dressed. The white wedding dress "borrowed" from the sleeping bride her perfectly.
It hugged her body, tracing her curves and highlighting her height. The pure white dress, hugging her body, so tightly felt like a second skin.
One that would never fit no matter how long she’d have it on, and it felt ready to combust as soon as she stepped close to fire because it wasn’t who she was.
Her body marked with a brand of pretty poisons was not worthy to be adorned with such pure silk.
It felt like a crime for her to be in that dress. But as a person without a conscience of her own, a mind of her own or a will of her own, she couldn’t do much about it but follow along with the orders of her master.
Her eyes landed on the sleeping figure once again, and she muttered, " I’ll compensate you for a wedding dress in our next life."
"Why do you keep talking to her when she can’t hear you?"
"Why do you keep wishing for freedom when you know that you’ll live and die a slave?" She fired back.
Mk swallowed his words. He wanted to say more. However, he knew what her answer would be.
She walked up to the dressing table and pushed her hair to her right shoulder with the intention to style it. Her fingers brushed against the cold spot on the nape of her neck, she stilled.
The mark of the pretty poisons. A reminder that she belonged to them. A poisonous mark engraved on her skin, one that was both lethal and heart-wrenching.
Beneath has skin on that very spot was a bug, It carried poison enough to kill her in case of defiance to the pretty poisons.
The poison could not be extracted, and if the bug is forcefully removed, she will die instantly. To make matters worse, only the pretty poisons knew what kind of poison the bug carried and how to make an antidote because they’re the ones who created it.
The bug is controlled with a ring. The master is called the ring "Dinardu" It’s a term of the ancients that no one outside of the pretty poisons recognized.
Even the masters of the pretty poisons knew nothing of a meaning of the word. The one they call the artiste, the creator of the poisons and antidotes used in the pretty poisons organization, was the only one who understood everything related to everything she created.
However, the artiste was a difficult figure to come by. Despite having been raised in the pretty poison since the age of five, she herself had never seen or heard whispers of the artiste.
Like everyone else, she knew nothing of what the woman looked like or where she was from. She only knew that the artiste’s creations were the reasons girls and boys like her had been bought, trafficked, marked, and branded by the pretty poisons, and were doomed to living the miserable lives that they had been forced into.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to let her hair down to cover up the mark.
"The person you are getting married to is very powerful. Maybe with his help..." Mk didn’t dare give a voice to his thoughts.
She paused, looked up, and stared at his back through the mirror. She felt odd at his train of thought.
"Stop it. Stop daydreaming, MK. No one is coming. No one will save us. No one cares enough.... Remember that and get your head out of the clouds before You get yourself killed."