Nyala's soft footsteps echoed down the dim corridor as she made her way toward the warehouse. The evening air was thick with the lingering scent of roasted meats and fragrant spices from the dining hall, but she barely noticed.
Her mind was elsewhere—on the prince's lingering glances, his thinly veiled threats and the way his eyes had darkened whenever they landed on her.
It made her shudder as she rubbed her arms as if to shake off the unease creeping up her spine.
The warehouse was at the far end of the palace, far away from the grand halls and bustling courtyards. It was a quiet space where servants stored supplies like sacks of grain, woven fabrics, clay pots filled with oil and so on.
It also served as a place where maids like her could escape for a moment of solitude after long hours of service.
But tonight, solitude was the last thing she would find.
As she pushed open the heavy wooden door, she let out a relieved sigh. The warm glow of a single lantern illuminated the stacks of goods and she stepped inside, the door creaking behind her as she made her way toward a shelf where she had left a few tasks unfinished earlier.
Just as she reached for a folded cloth, a sound behind her made her freeze.
Footsteps.
Slow and deliberate.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she slowly turned around, her eyes scanning the dimly lit warehouse.
The lantern's flame flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Nyala's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to locate the source of the footsteps.
"Who's there?" She asked in a polite and collected tone, not wanting to show any hint of the nervousness she was feeling at the moment.
Yet, she wasn't surprised when she didn't hear any response. Brushing it off, she continued with the task, folding the clothes and rearranging them when she heard the footsteps again, making her look around in alarm.
"Is anyone there?" She asked once more, her unease becoming more obvious as she carefully looked from where the lantern had cast a shadow.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness.
Nyala's breath caught in her throat as she took a step back, her hand reaching for the nearby shelf to steady herself.
The figure took another step closer, its features slowly becoming visible in the lantern's light.
Nyala's eyes widened as she waited to clearly see who was tailing her and it was as if the world stopped when she recognized the person who came to light.
It was Prince Yovana, standing in the doorway.
His eyes seemed to bore into her soul, his gaze cold and calculating. The young maid felt a shiver run down her spine as he took another step closer, his movements deliberate and menacing as his eyes gleamed with something dark, something predatory.
She took an instinctive step back again, her hands gripping the cloth in her fingers as though it could offer her protection.
"P-Prince Yovana," she stammered, trying to keep her voice steady. "Did you lose your way, Your Highness?" she managed to ask.
Yovana chuckled—a low, amused sound that sent chills down her spine. He took a slow step forward, the door closing behind him with an ominous thud.
"No, little maid," he said smoothly. "I came looking for you."
Nyala's heart pounded against her ribs as she thought of the best thing to do in this situation.
She could tell this was no coincidence as the prince had most likely followed her from the dining hall when she was leaving.
How did she not notice or even watch her surroundings? She scolded herself.
By the gods, she was dead meat.
As much as she knew Princess Moremi always had her back, she was also aware that the Azuran prince could do whatever he wanted to her here and now and no one would lift a finger at him later.
She was a mere maid after all and Moremi was the only one who cared about her protection.
"I… I still have work to do," she said quickly, trying to move past him, but Yovana stepped into her path, his towering frame blocking her escape.
She looked up at him, her fear evident in her wide eyes. "Please, Your Highness" she whispered, lowering her gaze respectfully hoping that humility might appease him. "If I have offended you in any way, I beg your forgiveness." She was straight to the point, not beating around the bush or feigning innocence as she knew there was no way the prince had stumbled into this region.
He had definitely come to teach her a lesson.
Yovana let out a low chuckle, bringing his hand to her face and tilting her chin up with a single finger. "Oh, little dove," he murmured mockingly, his grip tightening slightly as he forced her to look into his piercing gaze. "You did offend me. But I am a merciful man, and I believe in making people atone for their mistakes."
Nyala's breath hitched. She could feel the heat of his body too close to hers, his presence suffocating. She wanted to push him away, to scream, to run—but her limbs felt weak, frozen in fear.
"Please, Your Highness," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I meant no disrespect."
Yovana's smirk deepened. He reached for the delicate fabric of her sleeve, running his fingers along it before, with a sudden, brutal motion, he yanked at it. The cloth tore easily under his strength, baring her shoulder to the cool night air.
Nyala screamed, instinctively covering herself, but he grabbed her wrist, his grip like iron.
"You're quite the beauty," he mused, his voice dripping with twisted amusement. "Soft skin, delicate hands… untouched, I presume?"
Tears pricked at Nyala's eyes as she shook her head violently. "No, please! I beg you, Your Highness, let me go!" She struggled against his hold, but it only seemed to fuel his enjoyment.
Yovana's smile vanished. "You should have thought about that before embarrassing me today." He brought his lips close to her ear, his breath fanning hers, "Now...I'm curious to know what those laughing lips of yours can do in few minutes..." He whispered with a smirk and with one swift push, he shoved her backward against a stack of crates, knocking the air from her lungs.
Before she could recover, he was on her, one hand pressed against her mouth to muffle her cries as he forced her down onto the rough wooden floor.
Nyala thrashed, tears streaming down her face, but he was too strong. Her muffled screams echoed through the warehouse, lost in the thick silence of the night.
Yovana was not showing any mercy. Without further ado, he dug his hand under her dress that was just below her knees, bringing it up and untying her inner wear in the most unkind and unpleasant manner.
Seeing that she was half-naked, reality slowly began to hit Nyala as she knew no one was coming to her rescue since this warehouse was too far from the main palace for others to even hear her cries.
There was no way she would let this prince get what he wanted. She would help herself if she didn't get help as that was the only way she could protect her remaining dignity at this juncture.
Gasping for air as Yovana's tall frame covered her small one, she stretched her frail hand around frantically for anything...anything at all she could use on him.
Even though she knew how risky this could be as harming a royal guest was a punishable offence, Nyala felt she still needed to fight back as this was more than just respect. Her personal dignity was involved.
"Stay still, girl. This wouldn't hurt much if you cooperate with me." Yovana's raspy voice laced with lust and everything that made her stomach churn, rang in her ears.
She continued rounding her hand out, searching for any possible weapon that could be useful to her now.
The pressure of Yovana's body was already choking her but she endured it, still searching for a tool and when she felt her hand touch a wooden stick, Nyala didn't waste any time as she grabbed the material and while Yovana was too occupied undressing her, she ran the plank on his head with every inch of power she had left, destabilizing him momentarily as he let her go and she used this opportunity to scramble away, wrapping her torn clothing around herself as sobs wracked her small frame.
She managed to crawl to the door in haste as the pieces of her ripped dress lined on the cold floor.
"Help me! Help me please, somebody!" She began to yell as she stood up to turn the door knob of the warehouse but to her dismay, it was not opening.
She froze as her eyes narrowed in confusion since she remembered the prince had not locked the door when he initially came in. Had she perhaps not paid enough attention?
She turned the knob again, this time repeatedly as if to break the door while looking back from time to time to see if the Azuran prince was close by.
Yovana, however, groaned in pain as he was still on the ground, his hand on his head. He looked up to see the so called maid thrashing at the door which refused to open up and a small smile crept his lips.
Nyala knew with her strength that she had barely hit him hard enough to put him down for long. Sooner or later, he would be on his feet and come after her.
"No!" She screamed in frustration when she kept pulling the door but it even appeared as though it had been locked from outside.
"Can anyone hear me?!! Open the door please!" She kicked the door hard, pulling the knob over and over again and behind her, she could already tell that Yovana had regained his strength as she didn't hear him groan again. The hit had merely given her time to escape.
She continued kicking against the door, banging it and yelling for help desperately but there was no response.
She sighed heavily, her heart racing and thumping so loud in her chest when she heard Yovana's footsteps in the warehouse and she froze with wide eyes, turning behind to see him in his simple tunic, scrunching his face in annoyance.
When their gaze met, Nyala could clearly see the deadly intent in his eyes and he stormed towards the door where she stood.
"No! No!" She screamed continuously, hitting helplessly at the door and yelling but Yovana was too fast as he gripped her arm when he came close enough, covering her mouth to muffle her screams before shoving her once more to the cold floor.
This time, it was too late for Nyala to attempt any self-defense. Her remaining inner wears were torn mercilessly before she could even think and the rest was a blur.