Episode 10 — The Slave’s Thoughts: Morning Mistake
When I woke, for a moment I couldn’t understand where I was.
The softness beneath me made my mind falter. It was unsettling—wrong, almost.
A slave like me shouldn’t be sleeping in a bed like this, stretching out under warm, gentle bedding.
I shot upright in a panic.
I tried to get down from the bed, thinking it would be better to leave it, but my legs tangled the moment I touched the floor and I fell onto the carpet.
At that instant, a woman’s voice, seemingly already in the room, reached my ears.
“Oh my, did you hurt yourself? Are you alright, Seth?”
I turned toward the voice.
It wasn’t the mistress who had bought me.
Tension coiled through my body. Who was she?
Sensing my unease, the woman spoke again.
“I’m a slave who serves your master as a maid. Nice to meet you, Seth. We actually met yesterday—do you remember? My name is Rizanne.”
Another slave… serving in the same household?
I couldn’t hide my surprise.
So that woman truly had wealth. Enough to keep slaves who served other slaves.
“Your master left for work with the others. Mansell and Clump—the ones who came here with you—they’re slaves too. You didn’t know that?”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Then you should know. Your master lives in this mansion together with us slaves. You’re now part of that household. She is a wonderful person. She never uses a whip on us.”
“… …”
“We must serve her with sincerity. Seth, if you can’t see, then rely on your instincts even more. Move before anyone else. She is kind, so she’ll let you rest and wait for your body to heal—but if you don’t want to be discarded, you should do things properly.”
It was, I thought, her way of advising me.
A slave who sleeps in her master’s bed, waking later than her owner in the morning… it was nothing short of negligence.
“…Yes. I understand. Thank you for your advice.”
At my reply, Rizanne’s tone softened.
“I’m not trying to be harsh. I just want us to get along. About the cloth over your eyes… may I?”
“Yes, please.”
She moved behind me while I remained seated on the floor, lifted my fringe gently, and wrapped a cloth over my eyes, tying it at the back.
“I healed your eyelids properly with potion… so you don’t really need to hide them.”
“I’ve always covered my eyes. It feels more comfortable that way.”
“You have a beautiful face. It’s a waste.”
She took my hand.
“Come on. I’ll teach you your work. Let’s go downstairs.”
And so she said.
Rizanne led me forward, holding my right hand. With my left, I traced the wall as we walked.
“Is the stairs coming up soon?”
My question seemed to surprise her slightly.
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I remembered the distance between steps.”
“I see.”
Of course I would. I couldn’t see. I had memorized everything I could.
The stairs were one of the most dangerous places. I counted each step carefully.
Following the smooth handrail, I descended all the way down.
When I reached the first floor, a breeze drifted in from an open window, carrying the sweet scent of flowers.
“It smells nice.”
“We planted flowers. Ave told me I could do whatever I liked with the garden, so I planted a lot.”
Ave.
Even though they were slaves, Rizanne, Mansell, and Clump all called their master by name.
Ordinarily, that would have been unthinkable.
And yet… she didn’t use whips, they said. A strange kind of master.
“Breakfast is ready. Will you eat? After that, I’ll teach you your work.”
“Yes.”
Rizanne led me into what seemed to be the dining room.
She pulled out a chair and guided me to sit.
For a moment, I was deeply moved.
To sit at a table and eat a meal like this—it had been so long.
In the past, food had been thrown onto the floor, and I had eaten cold scraps with my hands.
Even being given food at all was a mercy. There were times I wasn’t given anything, forced to endure hunger with an empty stomach.
Back when my face hadn’t yet been ruined… when I was still “presentable”… I hadn’t been treated quite so badly.
But once my body broke, I fell quickly to the lowest of the low.
Cutlery was placed in front of me. Cold, metallic utensils.
They really let slaves use things like this?
I picked up bread and dipped it into the stew.
There was meat of some kind. I tried using the knife and fork, but without sight, it was clumsy and difficult.
“I’m sorry,” Rizanne said. “I wanted to see how much you could do, so I prepared it normally this time. I’ll be more considerate next time.”
“There’s no need.”
I didn’t want that.
I wanted to try eating like this properly, at least once.
It took time… but I finished the meal.
Still, taking too long was a problem.
I needed to eat faster. More efficiently.
I couldn’t afford to be seen as a useless slave dragging others down.
Yes.
I wanted to be acknowledged by the people of this house as soon as possible.
