The Imperial Kings Series 1: Enslaved by the King

I was fanning myself, watching the townsfolk go about their business. I had no idea what time it was, and I wished someone would tell me. But knowing the people here, I knew that was unlikely. So, I just kept fanning myself, hoping the heat would let up.

Before I could voice my thoughts, a little boy, about seven, came running over. He was dressed in a frock suit, and I couldn’t help but wonder how he wasn’t melting in the heat.

“Excuse me, how much for these apples?” he asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“Three coins,” I answered, giving him a warm smile.

He reached into a velvet pouch and pulled out three copper coins. I dropped a few apples into his bag and held out my hand for the coins. He was just about to hand them over when a woman’s voice rang out.

“Arthur! Get away from that witch!” A woman, probably in her early thirties, stormed over and yanked the boy away, shooting me a nasty glare.

“Stay away from my son!” she spat, snatching the bag of apples from my hand and dragging her son away.

Her words stung. Even though everyone in this town had some nasty name for me, and I should’ve been used to it by now, it never got easier. The pain was always there, and no matter what I did, my past was always right behind me.

“It’s okay, Sabina. She was just talking nonsense,” Beth said, coming up behind me.

I shook my head, forcing a smile onto my face. “It doesn’t matter. We have the money now. We can buy food.” I handed the three coins to her and turned my attention back to the bustling market.

It seemed to be around midday, judging by the number of people. Men were pushing wheelbarrows full of fresh produce, and women were busy shopping. Everywhere I looked, people were manning stalls, and only a few ventured over to where I was, selling fresh fruits.

“You’re right. We’ve made enough for dinner tonight,” Beth said, slipping the coins into her worn cloth pouch.

I looked at Beth, the woman who had taken me in when no one else would. She was the mother I never had. She believed in me when no one else did. She comforted me when I needed it most. She helped me get back on my feet, and I could never repay her for everything she’d done.

Even now, at sixty, she worked as hard as someone half her age. I kept telling her she didn’t need to help me, but she never listened. Her eyes always sparkled with a strange kind of joy, making her blue eyes shine even brighter.

“Beth?” I asked, watching the crowd thin out with a sinking feeling. Beth was too good to have saved someone like me.

“Yes?”

“I think you should hire someone else to run your business. With me here, we barely make enough for one meal,” I said.

Beth frowned. “That’s nonsense, Sabina! It’s this town, Wilsden, and its people that are bad for business, not you.”

“No, Beth. People are always good for business, but no one wants to buy from a witch.” It hurt to say those words, but I knew they were true.

Beth narrowed her eyes at me, and I knew she was upset. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s all lies! You’re not a witch! You’re a good woman, and people should appreciate you!” she scolded.

“I’m sorry, Beth. Please forgive me.”

“No, dear. I understand why you feel that way, but you have to be strong. These people are just spreading lies. They just want something to gossip about.” She patted my cheek gently.

“What do you want for supper?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Let’s go home and decide. I don’t think we’ll get any more customers today.”

“Let me just pack up.”

“Beth, what is it?” I asked.

“We need to hide. The king’s men are here, and they’re taking women for the king’s harem,” she said.

She grabbed the cloth we used to cover the fruits and pulled me under it with her.

My heart pounded in my chest. The king’s men were here, and they were looking for women for the king’s harem. This happened often, but the fear it caused never lessened. They only took unmarried women, virgins, and dragged them to the castle to become the prince’s concubines.

“Beth!” I gripped her hand tightly. I might not have been a respected woman in this town, but I didn’t want to live as a whore.

“Quiet, Sabina!” Beth hissed, squeezing my hand. I could see the fear in her eyes. She was worried for me.

“What if they—”

“Shh! Nothing will happen to you,” she whispered harshly.

Suddenly, the sound of splintering wood filled my ears. My heart jumped as I heard our wooden crates being smashed, followed by the heavy thud of boots.

Before I could process what was happening, the sheet hiding us was yanked away, revealing us to the king’s men.

There were four of them, all dressed in the royal attire of the king’s most trusted men. Their faces were lit with triumph, which only heightened my fear. I knew I had to escape.

“Grab her. We need to get back. The king didn’t give us much time,” one of them commanded.

Beth shoved me back, trying to shield me from the men, but I knew she couldn’t protect me. These men were here for me, and they wouldn’t leave without me.

“Don’t touch her! Leave her alone!” Beth demanded, her eyes blazing at the men.

I screamed when one of the men drew a sword and held it to Beth’s throat. I tried to push Beth away, but she wouldn’t budge.

“Please don’t. Please don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything, please,” I begged, tears welling in my eyes.

Two of the men grabbed my arms and yanked me up, dragging me out of the tent, the remaining two following behind.

The sun hit my face, but the terror coursing through me made me oblivious to the heat. I didn’t want to be a whore.

The men dragged me for what felt like forever before stopping in front of a large carriage. With four horses ready to pull, the carriage was painted red and looked big enough to seat at least ten women.

I should’ve been impressed by the carriage, but it only made me want to run even further away. This carriage would take me to the castle. This carriage would seal my fate as a whore.

“Oh, the town’s witch. I think the king will enjoy this one,” one of the men standing next to the carriage said, leering at me.

“I agree. The women we picked today will satisfy the king’s needs,” the other concurred.

When the door of the carriage swung open, fear took over, and I began to struggle against the men’s grip. I pushed. I punched. I scratched. I screamed for help.

But there were four of them and only one of me. They had me subdued in just a few minutes.

One of the men tore the front of my dress, exposing my bare chest to the rest of them. That act of humiliation drained all my fight, and I gave up, clutching the front of my dress with my hand.

The men roughly tossed me inside the carriage before slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside. I tried to wipe my tears, but I had to keep a firm hold on my dress.

Through my tear-blurred vision, I saw six other women, all with tears in their eyes. Some were shaking, some were clutching the fronts of their dresses, and others were whimpering.

When I heard the crack of a whip in the air, followed by the startled cries of the horses, I knew my freedom was gone. My fate was sealed. I was nothing more than the king’s whore.

“I wa-want to g-go ho-home,” one of the girls whimpered.

“Forget about home. The castle dungeons will be our new home,” another one replied bitterly.

The first girl burst into fresh tears, setting off a chain reaction among the others. None of us knew why the king was like this, why he wanted the town’s women as whores.

But we were powerless against the king’s authority.

“What’s your name?” I asked the woman sitting beside me. She had dark hair and teary green eyes, her cheeks streaked with tears.

“Ma-Mary,” she hiccupped.

“I’m Sabina,” I told her. Introducing ourselves seemed pointless, but I didn’t know how else to distract myself from the looming castle.

“Do—don’t talk to me. Yo—you’re not a good woman,” she declared.

In that moment, I wished the king would kill me, because if he didn’t, the harsh words of these people would.

I hadn’t done anything to deserve the town’s people treating me so cruelly. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was just friends with someone I shouldn’t have been.

The carriage continued its journey, the driver oblivious to the cries and whimpers of the women inside.

Whenever the carriage slowed, the driver would whip the horses into a faster pace, taking us further away from the safety of our homes.

“The castle is magnificent. I wonder which room we’ll be in,” a woman spoke up, drawing our attention.

“I’ve only seen the castle a few times,” the one sitting in the corner said.

When the carriage slowed this time, it came to a complete stop. My heart pounded as the carriage door was opened, and two men dragged all of us out.

When I was roughly pulled out of the carriage, the men tied my hands behind my back, causing the front of my dress to fall down, and this time it wasn’t just a few men, it was a crowd.

“Bring them in! The king is getting impatient!” one of the royal guards standing by the gate shouted. The king’s men grabbed each of us and dragged us inside.

My eyes widened as I entered the castle, taking in its grandeur.

The castle was made up of numerous towers and turrets, with cannons lining the tops of the walls. Guards were everywhere, swords safely tucked in their sheaths.

I didn’t get much time to admire the castle as the men dragged us all inside. I tried my best not to look at anyone since my chest was exposed, and making eye contact with a guard in this state might send the wrong message.

The inside of the castle was like stepping into another world. A red carpet led all the way to the king’s throne. Guards stood on either side of the carpet, as still as statues.

I wanted to take a moment to admire the opulence and take in the interior of the castle, but the man holding me pulled me forward.

As I walked, I glanced left and right at the guards, who were standing still, noticing how each of them was spaced an equal distance apart.

The guards didn’t even look at me, their eyes fixed on the guard standing in front of them.

Relief washed over me as the number of eyes on my bare chest dwindled. I was guided towards the king, who sat regally on his throne. But when I dared to lift my gaze to meet his, my heart froze.

My eyes locked with icy, black ones, and a shiver of fear ran through me. There, on the throne, ruling this kingdom, was my past. After eight years, he was now the king of Quopia.

His face was flawlessly carved, his jawline sharp, and his eyes held a power that could drain your soul. The king sat, scrutinizing us as we were paraded before him.

I wished it was all a dream. I wished some witch had cast a spell on me, causing me to hallucinate, but that wasn’t the case.

Reality was staring me in the face. My past was staring me in the face. And despite my best efforts, the name that haunted my dreams slipped from my lips.

“Abiloft.”