At Stenwulf House

Chapter 1: Sold!

© 2017 Eleina Wren. All Rights Reserved.
Cover art: © Elaine Aneira (Shirokibo.deviantart)
Stock photo/brush: © Jessica Truscott (faestock.deviantart), Obsidian Dawn

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Chapter 1: Sold!

There was a place specifically for auctions – of people, not of objects. It was an area dedicated for the employment of the Kalri, the lowest class in Illenia. Framed by short bricked buildings that consisted of shops of all kinds, the cobblestones lined every nook and cranny of the circular circumference. A stage was located at the edge of it, right in front of the auction house, the only building the auctioneer and his wife ever called their home. For as long as the citizens could remember, this sort of thing was mundane. No one knew how or when it started, and no one, especially the rich, had anything to say about it even if in the very common of minds, one should know that it was a barbaric thing to do, associating people with objects to be owned. Still, the Kalri felt being auctioned off was the right decision to make, and always having something to make money of, how could this auction house ever get run to the ground?

Fayre stared down at the onlookers as she tried her best to ignore the sharp pains emanating from her body. She had to look the part to have any hope to be purchased, to look as if she was at the best of health, and as presentable as her dirty cotton dress allowed her to. She wanted to have a second chance in life, not be thrown away and live as a street rat, completely unprotected, for the rest of her life. She shuddered to think of that very prospect. This was her only chance to be here. If she failed to capture anybody's attention, that was it. Her fate would be sealed forever. That was the deal she had made with the auctioneer and his wife.

The said auctioneer, Mr. Barty Faowind, was a portly man dressed in a set of extravagant clothes that were akin to the quality of an Ekel's, the richest group to roam the lands of Illenia. Many said his garments were pretentious because no other word could be more accurate a description. He had a boss to attend to, which made him only middle-class – a Mymra, but right there, right now, in front of his fellows and those of higher standing, he was the one who called the shots. Fayre had seen it happen so many times now for the past day after having been removed from Lady Red, one of the most popular prostitution houses in the city. Although she wished never to return to that life, she often wondered if it would have been better if she had the choice to stay instead of wasting away on the streets. She could hardly stand it. Even as she stood there, being assessed by the eyes of the rich, she could feel her stomach churning, and a stabbing ache had gradually built up over the long hours. The watery cabbage soup she had been offered before she was due to stand on stage was certainly not enough to last. Landa Faowind was not kind enough to avoid that.

"We do not have enough money to feed the healthy ones as it is," she had snapped in that guttural tone of hers.

Fayre pulled in a short breath, conscious of the stares that were being directed at her. It almost made her squirm, so much so that she was tempted to pull the scarf tighter around her neck, even though she knew it was already serving its purpose well. But what she wanted to do most was to shrink against herself in front of the throng of silk, leather and gold.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mr. Faowind shouted across the large courtyard, "we have here a girl of twenty, fair hair, blue eyes. She is young and hardy, useful when it comes to helping out in the kitchens, even if she may not have any prior knowledge." This was met with approving nods from several women. New maids who had never served other households before would be easier to train. They would find it harder to adapt otherwise as different households had different methods to go about things. Fayre wondered if she would really be able to survive in the kitchens, but thought she preferred this over anything else as Mr. Faowind went on to say, "This lady here has been professionally trained, however, in pleasuring men, so gentlemen, you know what to do if you need a mistress." He chuckled heartily, echoed by those of his sex in the crowd. The wolf whistles made Fayre shiver ever so slightly.