Chapter 1
Nadia’s POV
“Whoop!” I felt a heavy splash of water washing all over me as I jumped off the wooden bed. “Lazy fools! Get your fucking ass up!” Her voice roared.
The rest of us jumped on our feet as we began to smuggle our way out of the dwarf door.
Another day to continue my slavery journey.
“Come over here! Come over here!” One of our masters instructed as he stood in front of hefty logs.
Pretending not to have heard him, I hastened my feet towards the backyards, hoping to find an extra bucket for fetching water.
A feeling of disappointment washed through me when I heard a voice from behind, “I kept the last one for you.”
I slowly turned my back to see who it was, and to my surprise, it was the same girl from last week.
“Thank you.” I forced a smile and took the bucket from her.
“Come on, let’s get way before they catch us here,” she said, hurrying her feet out of the spot.
As we approached the kitchen, two guards leaned against marble columns.
I buried my head, avoiding eye contact with them as we stepped into the mud brick walls.
The kitchen was hot and harsh, filled with smoke and sour smells of vinegar and spices.
Fires burned under big iron pots, and steam choked the air.
Others worked in silence, chopping meat and stirring thick sauces while sweat ran down their faces.
The cooks and the maids were all in accordance, attending to the cooking pots and rest.
We headed towards the big empty drums and began to wash off the particles from them.
The distance from the water well and the drums wasn’t that far, which made it the easier morning job so far, and that’s why I struggled every morning to be a part of it, unlike the other work.
“Did you have a peaceful night?” she asked, breaking the silence between us.
“What?” I exclaimed, stealing a glance at her, “Oh, I mean, does any slave experience peace at night? The last time I had that experience was 10 years ago.” I sighed.
“Did your uncle really kill them?” she asked suddenly.
I narrowed my eyes slightly, facing her, and faced my front again, saying nothing.
I knew my behavior alone sent a message. “I’m sorry if I said anything wrong,” she said.
I uttered not a single response to her as we filled the drums in total silence.
Finishing with the drums, the overseer present made sure to assign us to another hard labor, this time separately.
I arrived at the field where the other slaves were lined up. Joining the linemade me the last.
The field foreman began to assign portions to everyone.
In our slavery term, both males and females were assigned to all assignments. The emperor and his subordinates didn’t make a thing out of it.
“You, over there!” the foreman yelled at me.
Uttering not a single word. I did as he instructed, picking up a hoe from where the farming equipment was stored.
Making sure that every one of us had been assigned a portion, he left us to work.
We walked until it was dawn, as the portion assigned to each of us was large enough for three people to work on.
**
I’d thought I’d finished for the day as I retired back to the barn, only to find the head maid from the imperial palace.
I flinched upon sighting her as I was about to snuggle out when her voice pierced me, “Hey, you!”
My feet halted as I shut my eyes tightly and slowly turned to face her.
“Yes, my lady.” I forced out a smile, bowing my head slightly.
She ignored my acknowledgement and continued picking among us. “Come with me,” she instructed and began walking forward while we followed.
We followed her into the imperial palace, and for the 100th time, I couldn’t help but admire the beauty of this place.
Emperor Marcus Antonius was known for his lavish lifestyle; he made sure he had everything to his satisfaction, and that was why he kept renovating his palace.
“Move faster!” she yelled at us.
Already I could hear music and violin playing and men chanting and cheering. I needed no one to tell me that there was a festival going on as usual and they needed the service of slaves like me to serve them.
A sweet aroma of porridge and fresh soup filled my nostrils, awakening the hunger in my stomach.
My stomach suddenly began to grumble as I held tight to it while walking into the hall.
No one seemed to notice us; I mean, who would notice slaves like us?
“Now make sure they lack nothing in that table,” the head maid told me.
Immediately, we did as she instructed in union. The tray of different dishes was kept on the table.
Emperor Marcus and his diners sat at the high table, chatting and laughing.
Salivating, I carried one of the dishes and walked the other slaves in front, towards their table.
Following the others, I placed the dish on the table with shaky hands.
These were men of caliber. Though I failed to recognize any of them, rating their outfits, I was convinced they were no ordinary men.
I was about leaving when the emperor commanded me, “Hey! You get us the red wine from the shelf.”
He continued chatting with his friends as I narrowed my gaze at the shelf.
I walked towards it, expectant to see a ladder to help me get to it, but to my greatest surprise. There was nothing.
“Get the fucking wine!” His voice thundered, frightening me.
Confused and frightened, I raised my feet, trying to reach the shelf.
Still struggling, I got to it, my hands tapping it.
Thankfully I grabbed the bottle about resting my feet on the ground; I mistakenly twisted it, breaking my ankle as the wine spilled out of my hand, shattering on the floor.
