Chapter 1: Whispers of the Golden Peacock
Amaris stood by the window of her small, dimly lit room, the fading light casting long shadows across the floor. She gazed out at the bustling streets of Kebakaran, where life thrived despite the oppressive weight of fear that hung over the town. The vibrant colors of the marketplace contrasted sharply with her own drab existence, where the only hues were the muted browns and faded yellows of her simple garments. The scent of roasted meats, fresh bread, and fragrant spices wafted through the air, tantalizing and cruel—a reminder of the life that danced just beyond her reach.
From her vantage point, she could see the locals going about their daily routines, their laughter and shouts mingling with the sounds of clattering hooves and raucous vendors. Amaris envied their freedom, the way they moved without the burden of chains, unshackled by circumstance. Her heart ached with the knowledge that she was nothing more than a pawn in a game she did not choose. As a slave in the Golden Peacock, she had long surrendered any hope of a life beyond these walls.
The brothel had a reputation that echoed through the alleys and markets, a gilded façade that masked the desperation of the girls who worked within its confines. Madam Sevine, the matriarch of the establishment, ruled with an iron fist, her presence as commanding as a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. Amaris had learned quickly that to survive in the Golden Peacock, one had to blend into the background, to be invisible among the whispers and laughter that echoed through the halls.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Amaris turned away from the window and faced the mirror hanging on the wall. She studied her reflection, tracing the contours of her face with a finger. Her skin, once sun-kissed, had lost its luster, the light in her hazel eyes dimmed by the weight of her circumstances. Dark curls framed her face, wild and untamed, a stark contrast to the carefully groomed appearances of the other girls. She had no time for vanity; survival was her only focus.
"Amaris!" a voice called from the hallway, slicing through her thoughts like a knife. It was Lia, one of the other girls, her voice tinged with urgency. "Get ready! Madam Sevine is in a mood today!"
Amaris' heart raced at the mention of their mistress. The last thing anyone wanted was to incur Madam Sevine's wrath. With quick, practiced movements, she smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress, though there was little to be done about the way the fabric hung loosely on her frame. She opened the door and stepped into the corridor, where the air was thick with the mingling scents of perfume and desperation.
The dimly lit hallway bustled with activity as girls flitted about, each preparing for the evening's patrons. The Golden Peacock was a lavish establishment, adorned with rich tapestries and gilded accents, but its beauty was merely a façade for the suffering hidden within. Amaris felt the weight of the world settle on her shoulders as she made her way to the common room, where Madam Sevine often held court.
The common room was alive with laughter and music, the sound of a lute strumming softly in the background. Patrons lounged on plush cushions, their eyes glazed with drink and pleasure. Amaris moved through the throng, careful not to draw attention to herself. She had learned to be a shadow, slipping past the prying eyes of customers who sought a moment's distraction from their own lives.
As she approached the front of the room, she caught sight of Madam Sevine perched on a gilded chair, her sharp features illuminated by the flickering candlelight. Dressed in an elaborate gown that accentuated her figure, Madam Sevine exuded authority, her gaze piercing through the haze of revelry. Amaris felt a shiver run down her spine; the last girl who had crossed Madam Sevine had been sent to the cellar for a week as punishment, a chilling reminder of the cost of disobedience.
"Amaris," Madam Sevine called, her voice commanding attention. The room fell silent, all eyes turning toward her. "Come here."
Amaris swallowed hard, her throat dry as she approached the imposing figure. The laughter faded, replaced by an uncomfortable tension that settled in the air like fog. She forced herself to meet Madam Sevine's gaze, trying to mask her fear with the practiced indifference she had honed over the years.
"Yes, Madam?" Amaris replied, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.
Madam Sevine's usually steely expression softened momentarily as she regarded Amaris. "You've proven yourself capable, diligent. The working girls adore you. But there's something more important at stake now."
Amaris felt her heart drop. She knew that tone. It was the sound of impending change, and often, it did not bode well for someone in her position. "What do you mean, Madam?"
"King Quellin has ascended the throne, and the townspeople are terrified. They mourn King Jezza, who was beloved, and now, they're desperate to appease the new ruler." Madam Sevine's gaze hardened. "They will be offering tributes to him—treasures, rare items, and... girls."
A chill ran down Amaris's spine. "Girls?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, and I believe you will be among them," Madam Sevine stated matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather. "You will be part of the offering to King Quellin."
Amaris recoiled slightly, panic flooding her senses. The realization crashed over her like a wave—she would be sent to the king, a stranger rumored to be cold and merciless, a figure shrouded in shadows. "But, Madam, I... I can't. I'm not suited for such a fate!" Her voice trembled, and she fought to keep the desperation from showing in her eyes.
"Enough!" Madam Sevine's voice rang out, sharp and unyielding. "You are a valuable asset, Amaris. The townspeople need to see that we are loyal to the crown. This is a chance to elevate your status, perhaps even to gain favor with the king."
Amaris shook her head, disbelief coursing through her veins. "But what if he—"
"Enough!" the Madam repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You will go. This is your duty, and you must fulfill it. Do not shame the Golden Peacock."
As the weight of Madam Sevine's words sank in, Amaris felt a mix of dread and anger swirl within her. She had worked tirelessly to maintain her dignity and survive in this place, yet now she was being treated as mere property, to be traded like a piece of silver.
"Now, go," Madam Sevine commanded, her expression softening only slightly. "Prepare yourself. The villagers will arrive shortly to finalize the tribute."
Amaris nodded, though her heart felt heavy in her chest. She turned and walked away, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. She had heard the whispers about King Quellin—how he had poisoned his father, how he ruled with an iron fist, and how the townsfolk feared him.
As she made her way to her small quarters at the back of the brothel, she couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that loomed over her like a dark cloud. The Golden Peacock had been her home, but it felt as if it was about to become her prison. She was just a slave girl, yet she had dreams of freedom and escape, of a life beyond the walls of this brothel. But now, she was to be offered to a king—a man who was said to have hearts frozen in the shadows of his kingdom.
Amaris took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had always been strong; her survival depended on it. But as she began to prepare, she couldn't help but wonder what awaited her in the opulent chambers of King Quellin. Would he see her as a girl to be conquered or just another body for the funeral pyre?
She dressed carefully, selecting a deep blue gown that hugged her figure, accentuating her curves. The fabric flowed around her like water, a stark contrast to the heavy chains of her servitude. It was one of the few dresses Madam Sevine allowed her to wear on special occasions, and today, it felt like a mockery of her situation.
As she finished dressing, the muffled sounds of the brothel's festivities filtered through the walls. Laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music danced in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the life she was leaving behind. Amaris closed her eyes for a moment, picturing her life before the Golden Peacock, a life filled with the warmth of family and freedom.
A sharp knock on the door broke her reverie. "Amaris! It's time! Go to the square and meet with the donkey-man!" a fellow girl called from the hallway, urgency lacing her tone.
With a final glance at her reflection, Amaris steeled herself. Today, she would step into the unknown, an offering to a king. The thought sent shivers down her spine, but beneath the fear, a flicker of determination ignited. She would not be merely a pawn in someone else's game. If she was to face Quellin Vircadian, she would do so on her own terms.
Taking a deep breath, Amaris stepped into the hall, ready to confront her fate.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone