"Fatima! Fatima, where are you! Just where did that little strumpet run off to? She was here a moment ago!"
Edith is the chief maid as well as the madam's personal lap dog. The only time she would seek me out like this is at her mistress' behest. Which means today is another one of those wretched days.
"Fatima! Come out here! I know you're hiding somewhere around here!"
Knowing her, she won't stop yelling until I come out.
"There you are!"
Unlike the maids, slaves are to work without pay in exchange for a place to sleep. We're forced to undertake the rigid tasks that would normally be required of male workers all the while being fed scraps from the maids' leftovers. Those who work inside the mansion often refer to us as dirty, repugnant, ugly, disease-ridden creatures, etcetera, etcetera. Entry into the estate without prior permission is strictly forbidden, and any slave caught lingering around the residential areas will be flogged fifty times with no exception.
"The madam is waiting for you in the annex as usual. You'd best hurry before her mood worsens." She snickered with a smug.
Edith reminds me of those plump steamed buns I used to enjoy back in Ecchelon.
"Quit dragging your feet and hurry on over!" she continued to shout as she smacked my back.
"Alright, alright I'm going. Geez! You have quite the hands on you, miss Edith. My back is burning up!"
Oddly enough, I am now craving steamed buns.
++++++
I was brought here just a few days ago after lady Florette ratted me out while I was picking berries with Tomario. What have I done now?
"Get down on your knees and strip your back."
I'm certain I broke at least two of her ribs three days ago, why does she seem to be in better shape than before?
"Mommy! That filthy thing had the nerve to be in the garden while I was taking my morning stroll!"
I cringed at lady Florette referring to her mother as 'mommy' at her age. It seems she's picked up yet another wicked habit. Lying.
"If I may, Mistress. I was merely…Ack!"
"How dare you speak without my permission?!" she yelled while tightly clenching my hair.
Her spit bubbles flew all over my face.
"Mistress, please let go of my hair, so I can properly explain what transpired in the garden."
"Shut your filthy trap you vermin! How dare you call my daughter a liar?!" she roared loudly before flinging me to the woodened floor.
At this rate she might as well bathe me with her saliva. My cheeks were burning, and my ears wouldn't stop ringing. I could hardly hear what they were angrily babbling about. The daughter stomped on me while the mother was ragefully thrashing me, yet I couldn't feel anything. The rusty taste of blood on my tongue kept getting stronger and the inside of my mouth felt swollen as she had slapped me multiple times. And as if that weren't enough, she picked up a sizeable ceramic vase and dropped it over my head.
"B-blood! T-there is...so much blood! M-mother, is she…dead?"