"Disrobe."
Dahmer commanded in a brazen display of authority. He gestured for Esmeray to remove her clothes, and that made her pupils dilate in shock.
When she hesitated and made no attempts to follow his ridiculous orders, Dahmer's patience wore thin, and he moved to do it himself. "How many times must I repeat myself, Esme? You are no longer that little girl, you're a grown woman of twenty-one, a youthful breeder for us men. You must look your best and obey commands. Alpha Irish doesn't like to repeat himself twice, you know."
His hand deftly worked on the knots of her gown, loosening each one until the fabric fell in a silken pool beneath her feet, leaving her stark naked in front of him.
A strange flicker passed his hazel eyes as he scrutinized her womanly figures, his gaze lingering on her ripened breast for more than it should. Esme did not shy away, nor did she make any attempts to cover herself. In fact, she didn't put up a fight like last time and allowed Dahmer to do as he pleased with her, cause in the end, whether she tries to find justice for herself or not, Dahmer would be there to crush every single one of them.
She closed her eyes in disgust when his hand stretched forward to feel the texture of her skin, only to grab her waist.
She would not cry, she would not give him that satisfaction he sought in her.
"Perfect." He murmured, a sly smile playing on his lips as he nodded in approval to his scrutiny. "The Montague family never fails to deliver, Esmeray, and neither must you." With these final words that carried more than one meaning, he turned and left the chamber.
Esmeray, without clothes, turned towards the other door that led to her bathing chamber. Upon entering, she spotted her maid, Vivienne taking a wooden bucket to fetch some cold water for the steaming tub in the middle of the room. Without waiting for her maid to finish, Esme ascended the steps and sank into the steaming water.
The heat was intense, as the servant had not yet tempered it with cold water, and by the time Vivienne arrived, her soul nearly fled her body upon seeing that her lady was already soaking in the hot tub.
"Ah! Milady! The w-water is hot!" Vivienne immediately rushed to the side of the tub, her voice filled with panic, but to her bewilderment, there was no reaction from her lady. The scalding water seemed like a trivial discomfort compared to the burning humiliation inflicted on her by her brother's violation and decree. What good could she do in a pack that regarded women as mere breeders and tools to satisfy men's desire?
She was tired.
"Vivienne." Esme slowly turned her head to face the worried servant. Vivienne was a twenty-six-year old she-wolf, but she had the face that gave innocence a meaning, with her scanty dark hair always tied in that lazy ponytail, and eyes that reminded Esme of the coffee her father used to drink every morning.
Vivienne was not only her trusted servant, but also her companion.
"Get me a knife." Esme turned her head away after giving out her instruction, and Vivienne's face turned white as a sheet. A part of Vivienne always feared the day that her lady would demand for something as life-threatening as a knife. It was one of the reasons she felt glad that she was able to cook and serve her lady without having her lady go into the kitchen by herself, cause what if she just decides to stab herself one day?
Vivienne was involuntarily panicking in her head, and she asked, "what does Milady need a knife for?"
Esme didn't respond to that question, still sitting on the steaming tub. Left with no other choice but to obey, Vivienne stepped out and returned a few minutes later with the knife. She handed it to Esme who quietly received it, and in a swift motion, Esme grabbed a handful of her hair and sliced it off.
The long, silky strands of blue tresses fell into the tub, drowning beneath the water. If sacrificing her hair would free her from this wretched bargain, then she was willing to sever it all to preserve her dignity. Moreso, it had become a hindrance, a symbol of her unwanted status.
Vivienne's face paled drastically as she watched her lady cut off her hair. She had hesitated to bring the knife from the start, fearing that her lady might harm herself, but she had not anticipated this. The sight of Esme severing the symbol of her lineage was both shocking and distressing.
"Milady! Stop! If Alpha Dahmer sees this, he will kill you!" Vivienne exclaimed, panic threading her voice as she gripped her heart. No matter how fervently she pleaded, Esme remained resolute in her decision, ignoring her maid's desperate entreaties.
She only ceased once the last of her handiwork was done.
Esme scooped a handful of her severed hair, her eyes teary with hate as she added. "I am not their property. If this is what I have to do to make Alpha Irish reject Dahmer's proposal, then I don't mind sacrificing my hair."
"I understand your grievance, Milady, but is this not too extreme?" Vivienne was panicking for her lady. "You broke the most important tradition of your family's lineage by cutting your hair. What if the curse that's been told for ages turns out to be true??"
Esme's lips curled into a bitter smile, and she kept the knife at the edge of the tub. "My existence is already a curse, Vivienne." She whispered in resignation. "Born frail, orphaned, and then rejected by my own mate. The pack shuns me as if I'm a plague, and now Dahmer is eager to trade me away like a commodity. I've never had a moment of peace, and it's from one humiliating juncture to another. My destiny is bleak and so is my life, but I refuse to let anyone take charge of it, no matter how futile it may seem."
She wiped her tears away, and Vivienne proceeded to do her job. She wanted to get her lady out of the tub, which she successfully did, and to her notice, there were no burns on her lady's flawless skin.