It felt almost surreal, having an owner after over a month of being on the block. She watched him walk in front of her, his thick robes shifting as he moved and his hood covering him completely in the hot sunlight. She wondered what kind of man he was. She had not seen him because of all his coverings, but she imagined he was old because of the way he dressed, and the purse he carried over his shoulder, she thought only an old man could carry a purse like that.
She wondered why he had purchased her. He had taken at her at a low price, and no one had even bid against him. Either way, she was glad to be off the block. She had not been treated entirely poorly, but not well either because she had been so long in the slaver’s care. She had been lucky enough to have a slaver that felt sorry for her, she had lost her family in a fire and bandits had taken her within the following week when she had wandered from her careless village alone, they sold her to the slaver, and he had been good enough to make sure she went to an owner he felt wouldn’t do harm to her. It was unlike a slaver, she thought, but he had said it was something about her mild nature and the way her blue eyes could seem so innocent. Anyways, it didn’t matter anymore; her fate had shifted to her new owner.
She wasn’t as young as she looked. She had always had a small frame, and she was certain she wasn’t much to look at, but her new owner must have seen something in her under her mangled brownish hair tangled up in its small tie, and the tattered rags she wore. Even her skin was blotchy from dust, but still, he had purchased her. She decided he would likely have her doing chores, and she would be more than willing to comply if it meant she would have a place to sleep and a meal at least once a day, that was all she had received from the trader, one meal a day, and if they weren’t traveling he had let her sleep on a bail of hey. She wondered what she would be doing now, what she would eat and where she would sleep, and she wondered where they were going as she followed him down the thin dirt road and took notice of the unfamiliar forest surrounding them.
She noticed her new owner as he turned his head; she quickly lowered her eyes, believing it was a rule now that she was property.
“Keep up girl.” He called in his smooth voice.
She quickly stepped up her pace, not wanting to disobey him in any way, and soon they had reached the end of the road and her eyes fell on a small cottage tucked within the trees. She followed him to the home and watched as he moved up the three well-built stairs and opened the door, leaving it open for her as he entered.
The man glanced back at his property and noticed she was still outside the door.
“Come in here.” He ordered, and she quickly obeyed, looking around as he took the time to close the door behind her.
The cottage was not what she had expected, there was a wide room and a kitchen, and five stairs leading to a banister surrounded study, and almost every wall was covered in shelves of books. The place seemed warm and welcoming to her after being on the block for so long, and she was staring at a bookshelf as her new owner went to pour himself a cup of coffee from and old pot. It was likely cold, but he drank it down anyways and then noticed his property again.
“Can you read girl?” He asked.
She turned towards him but quickly lowered her eyes again.
“No sir.” She admitted.
“Well you will learn.” He stated, “What can you do? Chores, cook?”
“Yes sir.”
“Well at least it’s something.” He sighed, almost as if he were impatient with her already, “But you will go nowhere near the kitchen like that, when was the last time you had a bath?”
She blushed, but the red in her cheeks could not be seen through all the dust.
“It has been a while sir.” She admitted.
“My name is Gabriel.” He told her, “You may call me that, and what about you girl, have you a name?”
“Clara sir, I mean Gabriel.” She replied.
She couldn’t see his face between her lowered eyes and his uplifted hood, and it made her nervous that she couldn’t read his expression.
“Clara it is.” He sighed. “Come Clara, you are in need of a bath, I have no clothing for you as of yet, but we will find something other than those rags, now won’t we?”
She obediently followed him up the stairs and through the study. He opened a hidden door and as they entered she realized the cottage was even larger, and the room they came to had a bed and more furniture, and yet another door leading to a bathing area.
Clara stopped in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. He looked back as he reached the bathing area and called out again.
“Come along.” He stated, disappearing behind the door.
She went to meet him quickly again, and her eyes fell over the sight of the emery colored tub and her blue-circled pupils widened suddenly as he pulled a handle and water poured from a faucet. She had never before seen running water and when he glanced over his shoulder again she made an attempt at not looking too surprised.
“Don’t just stand there.” He said, “Take those rags off, I won’t have an unkempt girl wandering about.