"Yes, Master." She stuttered horridly and almost ran out of her lord's presence. She had panic written all over her face. Never in her life had a man looked into her eyes so deeply, nearly peering into her soul. Never had she also felt the absolute danger of what she had done, for his gaze was that of a predator, not a man. She gasped for air when she got to the kitchen, not realizing the entire time that she was holding her breath. It had made her lightheaded, but the head maid didn't care.
"Drinks." It was the only word Samira could breathe out. Everyone hesitated, as if they were expecting her to disappear like the ghost they thought she would be by now, until the head mistress cleared her throat.
"I don't know how you bewitched Master to let you live but here, and don't spill anything!" She gave her the smallest nudge, as she didn't want her to get wine on her dress, and be the cause of it. Nothing good came from getting master's gaze, the head maid had been in the kitchen long enough to had been married and successfully raise all three of her children, being born there herself. She knew better than to pry into the business of the nobles, but she would peep this one time just to see the spectacle of mercy from the Master.
Samira walked slower this time, and her hips swayed more dramatically. She didn't realize this, she was simply doing her duty, but to the other two lords now, they were also somewhat captivated. They didn't care who the Lord of death had in his bed, so long as peacetime was there with it. They indeed thought she was attractive, and young, as Samira only looked 17 or 18 even though she was almost 20, but they would not get in the way of Lord Thetas. They watched him as he stared at her with a burning flame in his eyes. He wanted this woman, but he was conflicted. Would another woman make him feel this way? Why had he never felt this strongly about a woman, even one in his bed? He pretended to be interested in the Western Lord's blathering, while looking at Samira. Even her name was intoxicating.
She carried the many full and heavy, jeweled silver goblets. She could feel his gaze, even though she made a note to never look at him again. She was almost across the room, when a noble put her foot out. Thankfully, she was blessed enough that she went another, less crowded route. The woman sneered, and earned an intense glare from the Lord, who saw what she had done after she made that face. The gods themselves seemed to had been with this slave girl. That was the thoughts of anyone who had just so happened to see the event.
She placed the goblets in front of them while they ate, without making a sound. She had already angered the Lord with her ogling, to do it a second time would be worse, seeing as she should already be dead. She dared not spill a drop, and with them on the table safely, she nearly ran to safety. Once in the kitchen she was given their other courses and desserts, but he no longer looked at her. Or at least, she could no longer feel his gaze. She was grateful, maybe she had been forgiven for her mistake? Maybe he forgot, she thought.
He did not. If anything, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He was slightly excited when she presented him with anything, and it undoubtedly tasted better coming from her hands, but he no longer showed it. The noble women were jealous and gave her a hard time, which he could not really reprimand, because she was not his woman. At least not yet. There was no way that of all the females in the court, that a slave caught his eye. He almost chuckled to himself at the irony.
He scanned the room for the most beautiful noble woman to test this. None were as attractive as Samira, but the Lady of the House of Yale would do. She was curvy, blonde, and had ocean blue eyes that dazzled many of the Lords, but for now, she would entertain Lord Thetas.
By now, the other lords already had their future bedfellows in their lap, and it would appear strange that he didn't do the same. It was common for men of their status to have many wives, concubines, and mistresses, but Lord Thetas had none. He would bed women, he was a man after all, but none would bear his name. It was also common for the royal woman of prominent homes to be traded like cattle; however Lady Yale was of a small house. They almost weren't invited.
He had his reasons why he did this. To select a high noble, bed her, and not at least make her a concubine would start chaos. However, no one would care what he did to the 8th born daughter of a low house. He got her to sit in his lap, now the slave was all but forgotten. Now it was her turn to be under the scrutiny of the other nobles. He had thrown chum in the water, but he didn't care.
She moved in his lap, and caressed his cheek. She even dared to shyly kiss the Lord of Death's masculine jaw, but he felt nothing. She was timidly doing this, but these actions were bold, nonetheless. The other noble women were jealous, while Samira was a little disappointed. Some small part of her wished that she were the one in his embrace, being held tenderly, and caressed. She shook such a bold thought from her head, before she lost it. As a slave, she had no right to such desires for any man, unless he bought her from the Master and freed her, for this world was ruled by men. The rich, powerful men who cared only for more power and wealth.
She was run ragged by these men, and women of the court especially. Once she was no longer at just the Master's table, every noble man and woman wanted her to fetch them something. They wanted to see her up close or taunt her of her status. The only thing that saved her was her former life as a peasant. She was used to being treated this way by the upper class. The merchant girls and even the wives of the rich men her father served truly taught her to be humble, even when it was hardest. It was never as bad as this, but she still held her peace.
Lord Thetas became agitated at seeing her treated this way, but chose to stay his distance for now. He had also become tired of the three day festival that was held in his honor at his castle. He didn't even want the woman who was trying her best to entice him. He felt nothing, yet the thought of this simple slave did more for the Lord of Death than any noble woman. Lady Yale smirked evilly at the other nobles, who saw her nearly indecent act, believing that it was her that had him aroused. In reality, it was the slave, and all the thoughts he had planned for her should he decide to act on his desires.
The sun was set, and it was well into the night, but most dared not to stay. The guests left, except for Lady Yale, who suddenly felt ill and didn't want to leave the castle. In reality, she wanted to be bed and wed by the Lord. Status even as his mistress held power, and her father urged her. Everyone else feared for their life, and it was rumored that the Lord was Death in disguise. Why else would he be completely fine with such a nefarious nickname?
While they left, the women who served were at work to rid the castle of any evidence that there was a party. Samira was the one who washed all the worst pots. It seemed that the small amount of attention she got angered apparently everyone. No one spoke with her out of fear that they would be lumped in with her should Master change his mind, and those that didn't fear her, hated her for his mercy. Why should she live when their friend or loved one was punished, or even killed for less?
With her hands raw, and her belly empty, she went to bed in the stalls, in the dirty dress she came in. She was cold, but no one bothered her there. There was no one else in the frigid weather, not even the stablemen. The rain had stopped, but inside the castle, the Master was in a rage that brought most to their knees.