Kyla's POV
She thrust me into a carriage, covering my face with a coarse sack. The moment the sack enveloped my head, I felt an overwhelming tingling sensation, as if sleep was being forcibly induced upon me. My eyelids grew heavy, and I struggled to keep them open.
I lay on the hard, wooden bench, my body jostled about as the carriage lurched forward. Sleep eluded me, and I awoke with a start, my mind racing with the dire circumstances. I was to be disposed of, discarded like a worthless trinket.
Panic set in as I assessed my surroundings. I was locked in a small, cramped room with minimal air. The walls seemed to close in around me, making my breath come in short gasps.
“Help!” I cried out, my voice muffled by the sack. But my pleas fell on deaf ears. The carriage continued on its journey, the only sound the creaking of the wooden wheels and the soft murmur of the horses' hooves.
I slumped against the wall, exhaustion, and despair washing over me. Perhaps it would have been better if I had been killed outright, rather than being subjected to this slow, agonizing fate.
But then, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching, heavy and deliberate. My heart skipped a beat as I scrambled to my feet, my hands grasping for anything that could serve as a defense.
I spotted a wooden plank in the corner of the room and seized it, holding it close to the door as the footsteps drew nearer. My breath came in short gasps, my senses on high alert.
The creaky door swung open, and with a swift motion, I struck the wooden plank against the incoming figure. The sound of the impact echoed through the air — “Guam!” The person crumpled to the ground, letting out a pained groan — ‘lOuch!’
As I cautiously approached the fallen figure, I was taken aback to discover a young boy, no more than ten years old. What was he doing out so late at night, all alone? I wondered.
“Hey,” I said gently, helping him to his feet. “I'm sorry,” I apologized, concern etched on my face. “Where's your mom?” I asked, my voice laced with worry.
The boy looked up at me with an air of confidence, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “You're new here?” he asked, his tone assured.
I nodded in agreement, intrigued by the boy's bold demeanor. “I can see that,” he said with a knowing glint in his eye. “Come on, let's get out of here before they find you. I know a way,” he assured me, his voice filled with conviction.
Without hesitation, I followed the boy as he navigated through the dense forest, expertly avoiding hidden dangers. We ran for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the forest growing louder with each passing moment.
As we finally slowed to a stop, I turned to the boy, my breathing labored. “Where are you taking me?” I asked, my voice tired but grateful.
The boy walked forward, his gaze fixed on the path ahead, without glancing back. “Somewhere safer,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact.
His attitude reminded me of my husband, the masked guy, and his possessive nature. I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, a mix of amusement and nostalgia washing over me.
The young boy's adorable face lit up with a warm smile as he handed me a sack of clothes to use as a makeshift blanket. He then lay down on the bare floor, his eyes sparkling with a sense of contentment.
“We could share this,” I suggested my voice barely above a whisper, gesturing to the sack of clothes.
However, he simply shrugged, his expression nonchalant. “I'm okay, I'm used to this by now,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact.
I felt a pang of sympathy for this young boy, who had grown accustomed to sleeping on the hard floor. His resilience was admirable, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for his kindness.
“You should rest now,” he said, his voice soft. “I'll show you to my family by sunrise. They'll help us figure out what to do next.”
I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. As I settled in for the night, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being both unsafe and safe at the same time. The darkness outside seemed to press in on me, but the boy's presence and promise of help made me feel slightly more at ease.
As I drifted off to sleep, my mind wandered to the events of the day. The memories of the masked man, the carriage ride, and the boy's rescue all swirled together in a jumbled mess. I wondered what the next day would bring, and whether I would ever find my way back to the palace.
The boy's gentle snores and the sound of crickets outside created a soothing melody that eventually lulled me into a fitful sleep.
The warm rays of the shining sun gently roused me from my slumber the next morning. I stretched my tired body, arching my back in a languid yawn. Finally, a good day, I thought, feeling a sense of optimism wash over me.
I rose from my makeshift bed and stepped outside the hut, taking in the bustling atmosphere. The vibrant sounds and smells of the village assaulted my senses, and I felt a thrill of excitement. Finally, I was among people, I thought, my heart lifting.
My gaze wandered, searching for the boy who had rescued me. I spotted him in the distance, standing with two men. He caught my eye and approached me, a bright smile on his face.
I smiled down at him, feeling a surge of gratitude. “Thank you, kiddo,” I said, my voice filled with appreciation.
I turned to the two men standing beside him, curiosity getting the better of me. “Are these your brothers?” I asked, my eyes scanning their faces.
The boy's expression transformed instantly, his eyes clouding over with a pitiful look. “This is the lady,” he said, pointing at me, his voice barely above a whisper.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as one of the men stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intent. “What do you mean—”
Before I could finish my question, I was swept off my feet and lifted into the air by the man's burly arms. I struggled, kicking and flailing, but he held me fast.
“Help!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the village.
I saw the other man hand the boy a few coins, and a wave of realization washed over me. He sold me away, I thought, my mind reeling in horror.
The villagers watched, their faces impassive, as I was carried away. I felt betrayed, my trust shattered into a million pieces.
“I'm sorry, lady,” the boy's voice shouted, his words carrying on the wind. “I've got to feed my family.”
His apology was lost on me, drowned out by the sound of my despairing screams.
As I was dragged further and further away from the village, I couldn't help but wonder where I had been taken.