Tiara's pov
The room around me felt both foreign and suffocating. Cold walls painted a color that could not warm my heart, and yet I hadn't even bothered to look at it until now. My mind was in such a daze that the details of my new prison blurred into the background. All I knew was that this room wasn't home. How could it be when it was given to me by people who bought my servitude as if I were nothing but a commodity?
I slumped onto the edge of the bed, the weight of the world pressing down on me until I couldn't hold myself up any longer. With a soft thud, I slid to the floor, my knees tucked into my chest, my arms hugging them tightly. This was it. My new life. No longer a daughter, no longer free. I was a maid. A maid, I repeated in my mind, almost laughing at the absurdity of it.
