Chereads / The White Rose of the Red Devil / Chapter 8 - Meeting the slave girls

Chapter 8 - Meeting the slave girls

I walked hurriedly, even though I didn't want to, but I didn't dare disobey. He clasped the collar around my neck, tracing my collarbone while doing so. He leaned back, admiring his handiwork. I stared at the petty man in front of me, my face changing from stupefied to happy, seeing the smile playing on his lips. A thought crossed my mind: I wouldn't mind being in chains to see that smile on his lips, he looked beautiful.

Walking outside of the Duke's room, the perpetual darkness flooded the castle grounds. No bulb or ornament of any kind lit the spacious corridor. I walked behind him, but only my footsteps could be heard. The Duke didn't live in the castle all by himself, but I didn't know who the others were, and honestly, I didn't care for anyone that wasn't him.

The dining table stretched far into the dining room, its width impressive. Everyone was seated but not eating. It seemed we were fashionably late, except for one man. He looked similar to the Duke but couldn't match up to him in my eyes. As everyone stood up and bowed, the man couldn't care less. The Duke's eyes shifted coldly to the man, but he didn't say a word.

Everyone stood, and the tension in the air was palpable, so thick that I could almost have held it. Suddenly, the man flashed before me, trailing his finger down my face.

"What a pretty plaything you have here," he said to the Lord Duke. I flinched and quickly stepped back, cursing him silently. Damn stranger, now you've gone ahead and put me in a spot.

The people in the dining room tried to make themselves smaller, as it was considered a breach of etiquette to talk to someone of lesser status before a higher one, and it had been done to a slave. Even I had known this fact. I screamed profanities in my head as I fell to my knees, head bowed to the Lord Duke.

"This slave pleads for your mercy."

The Duke didn't say a word. The stranger, whom I later learned was Tyler Gravesand, shook his head in disapproval at me, clearly wanting to rile up his brother for reasons best known to him. My suffering because of that stranger didn't end there. The Duke left me to kneel.

But the Lord Duke never suffers a loss.

As I knelt, I could see the gears turning in his mind. He was already plotting his payback. He walked gracefully to the head of the table, his cold eyes never leaving Tyler.

"Brother," the Duke finally spoke, his voice icy and controlled. "It appears you have forgotten the decorum of our house. Addressing a slave so improperly... how unbecoming."

Tyler smirked, clearly enjoying the tension he had created. "Just admiring your choice, dear brother. She is quite... intriguing."

The Duke's eyes narrowed. "Intriguing, perhaps. But you must remember, Tyler, that in this household, respect is paramount. Even for a slave."

With a swift motion, the Duke clapped his hands, and servants appeared instantly, carrying a large, ornate chair. They placed it beside the Duke's seat, and he gestured for me to rise and sit beside him. The symbolism was clear: in the Duke's eyes, I held a place of significance.

"Everyone, be seated," the Duke commanded.

As the meal began, the Duke's eyes never left Tyler. He was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to his demeanor. Midway through the meal, the Duke leaned back and spoke loudly enough for all to hear.

"Tyler, I recall you boasting about your prowess in the blood duel. Perhaps you would demonstrate your skill for us?"

Tyler looked taken aback but masked it quickly with a confident smile. "Of course, brother. I'd be delighted."

The dining hall was cleared, and a space was made for the duel. Tyler stepped forward, clearly expecting an easy win. The Duke, however, had something else in mind.

"It would be overkill for me to fight you, dear brother." The Duke's eyes dared him to refuse, and Tyler startled before whispering his agreement.

The Duke's right-hand man stepped forward. "This subordinate will be your sword," he declared. Tyler's arrogance rose swiftly, but his downfall came even swifter. The man, with precise and calculated moves, quickly had Tyler on the defensive. The room watched in silence as he disarmed Tyler and pinned him to the ground, his blade at Tyler's throat.

"Remember, dear brother," the Duke whispered, loud enough for all to hear, "respect and decorum are not optional. They are the foundation of our power."

The Duke rose, leaving Tyler humiliated on the floor. The message was clear: disrespect would not be tolerated—not even from blood. The servants resumed their duties with renewed caution, the atmosphere charged with tension, for no other reason but the presence of the duke. As the meal continued, the Duke's gaze slid toward me, a subtle, knowing smile playing on his lips. In that moment, he had reasserted his dominance, reminding everyone of his absolute authority.

A shiver of both fear and admiration coursed through me. The Duke was ruthless, a master of manipulation and power. His unpredictability was as mesmerizing as it was terrifying.

He beckoned, and I stepped forward quickly, but his frown halted me. I bowed swiftly, masking my racing thoughts. Moments ago, I had seen him smile; now, his displeasure was evident. **What had changed? Why was I suddenly a target of his irritation?**

"Stay with the rest of the slaves," he commanded curtly before leaving. The simplicity of the command was a dismissal—a reminder of my place. Was I being abandoned? My heart skipped a beat, and I felt the urge to grab unto him and beg him, but stopped myself immediately and turned downcast and confused.

Returning to my belated meal, I noticed something curious. The castle fed its slaves with blood-enriching foods. My plate held a well-oiled fish and nutrient-rich greens. Glancing at the Duke's chair, I saw that except for a small sip, his blood cup remained nearly full.

"He didn't have his blood?" I murmured to myself.

"Dukes like him have personal feeders," a nearby slave girl explained. "Either a slave with the best blood or a human trained to be his feeder from birth." I didn't recognize her, yet she spoke with a familiarity that unnerved me.

"I see," I replied, though unease settled in my chest.

"Let's go meet the rest of the girls," she suggested, noticing my distraction. I quickly shoveled the remaining food into my mouth, sensing her curiosity as she watched me.