Chapter 17

“Your water and your food for the day.” Iris woke up with a splash of water to her face and a bowl of food tipped over in front of her in the tumbrel cart with a roof, she found herself in.
Iris looked around her, bewildered, not remembering for a moment the events that took place the day before.
Moments later Iris got dragged from the tumbrel cart and chained by a cast-iron neck collar and shackles on a chain with a dozen other slaves. Iris started to recall the events of the previous day, ‘so he sold me off to the slavers; guess I should be happy to still have my head on my shoulders.’
Soon enough Iris found herself wishing the king killed her instead as the sun was beating down on the delegate skin of the body she was trapped in, her lips already blustered, her mouth dry, her legs tired. Iris kept her head low, her eyes on the ground, and was grateful for fact that she was wearing sandals when she noticed the few slaves in front of her were not wearing any shoes.
Midday the slavers stopped to give their horses water and take a break under some trees that provided enough shade for them and their horses, leaving the slaves chained in their line, hurdling under the tumbrel cart for some shade.
Iris dozed off and when she got jerked up with the rest of the slaves, she found her sandals no longer on her feet. She looked at the feet of the rest of the slaves but none of them was wearing it.
Every second of walking felt like an hour and soon Iris was sobbing in pain.
“Stop wasting your body fluids,” a slaver whipped Iris making her scream in agony.
Iris did her best to keep up but eventually started to lose her footing, causing all the slaves to be punished; the slavers whipping them without mercy.
“Stop hitting the last one, she must be from noble blood, look at her red skin. We should get a cloth over her so that she does not endure more sunburn; we can get a large amount of coin for her,” one slaver pointed out.
“She is a lazy whore, and she will get us a large sum in coin by spreading her legs,” the slaver in charge said before bringing the whip down on Iris.
“I am princess Cerena Valentine,” Iris used the only card she had, hoping it will get her some mercy from the slavers.
“Princess Cerena Valentine is dead,” the slaver laughed.
“She does look a lot like her and even if she is not, someone will pay a lot just because she looks like the princess,” one of the other slavers stepped in, taking a closer look at her.
“Are the rumors true about you?” the slaver asked, sweeping her hair away from her neck, “she has the same beauty spot as what was painted in a painting I saw once.”
The slavers stood closer to have a look, “so, the rumors?”
“They are false. My parents spread them in hope that King Evander will stop his mad pursuit for my hand in marriage,” Iris said, hoping for mercy.
“Why get rid of you now? You were given to us for free. Why after destroying a whole bloody kingdom and killing your parents only to give you away as a slave?” the slavers wanted to know.
“He has met Princess Aisley,” Iris said the first reasonable excuse that came to mind, “and I tried to kill him.”
“You tried to kill him? Why let you go? Why not kill you?” the slaver asked suspiciously.
“Princess Marchelle pleaded for my head,” Iris said, remembering that the last person she saw was Princess Marchelle.
The slavers stood aside whispering to each other before one of them unchained Iris from the line of slaves and putting her in the tumbrel cart, “here is some water and even if you are not Princess Cerena Valentine you will stick to your story.”
Before locking the cage, he threw a piece of linen into the cage, “cover yourself.”
Instead of wrapping the fabric around her she pulled it over her like a blanket and hid under it while gulping down the water, not wanting to drink in front of the other slaves but at the same time she was selfishly thirsty. It took every part of her weak will not to drink all the water. Amongst the slaves were a young child and a pregnant woman and they were treated no different from the rest.
The sun was still high in the afternoon when they stopped again. Iris waited for the slaves to hide from the sun under the tumbrel cart before calling the child over first, fearing if she lets the pregnant woman drink first that she will drink it all as the slave child did not seem to belong to her, “pst, child.
The child flung himself to the cage pushing his hands through the bars when he noticed that the woman calling herself a princess wanted to give him some water.
“If you drink it all I won’t give you again so take only one sip,” Iris warned him.
The boy took the water from her and took one big gulp before hesitantly giving it back to her, “thank you.”
“Tell the woman with the bump to come closer,” Iris instructed.
The boy tapped the pregnant woman on her shoulder and pointed to Iris. The slaves shuffled their bodies so that the pregnant woman could reach Iris.
“Thank you,” she said before taking a sip and returning it to Iris.
“No, drink all of it,” Iris urged her.
The woman looked at the rest of the slaves and gave the water to an old woman who just wet her lips before passing the little bit of water to the next. Instead of drinking they all just wet their lips before it ended up with the pregnant woman again and this time, she drank the small little sip that was left.
Over the next few days as they traveled Iris received her food in a bowl and water four times a day. She only drank the morning water by herself as all the slaves got water in the morning. They finally reached a village but stayed only for a short while; more slaves joined the chain.
A few days later they stopped at a river outside a buzzing, full of life Kingdom that Iris was not familiar with, to wash off before being ready to be sold. By now her skin browned and peeled leaving her with her porcelain fair skin once more.
The tumbrel cart was given a good scrub before Iris was told to get back in again. One of the slavers traveled ahead to the Kingdom, spreading the word that they had a valuable slave that will go on auction.
Iris was wrapped with beautiful sheer fabrics, revealing her body underneath before being placed on display. Everyone argued about whether she was really princess Cerena Valentine but none the less the bids kept on coming.
“Is she still a virgin?” the king of the Kingdom roared, making his presence known.
Iris noticed her former body standing all made pretty with a collar around her neck, next to the king amongst other women, all slaves.
“It is for you to find out your majesty,” one of the slavers responded with caution.
King Gerald was carried over in his golden chair carrier to where the princess was on full display, “Princess Cerena Valentine, please accept my condolences for your parents and the loss of your kingdom.”
Iris gave the king a quick glance before diverting her eyes back to her former body whose eyes were on her. Iris was dying to ask her where her parents are.
“I see one of my former servants made it to your side,” Iris spoke up.
King Gerald threw his brown eyes on the body next to him before wrapping his one arm around her hips as he was sitting and she was standing, “my beauty, untouched, saving her for a rainy day.”
Iris was not sure if she was relieved to hear that her real body is untouched or not but glad for the little tip the king just gave her without realizing it.
“I am untouched as well your majesty,” Iris said, bending her knee.
“I am to believe that you are still a virgin?” King Gerald roared with laughter.
“The rumors are false. Her parents had us spread them to get King Evander to stop pursuing her, your majesty,” Princess Cerena spoke up.
The king digs his fingers into the side of her body, “who asked you? Speak again and I will cut your tongue out.”
“Double the last bid,” the king said before swirling his finger in the air, indicating for his men to carry him back to his castle.
One of the king’s Court Officers walked over to the slaver in charge and dropped three bags of coin at Iris’s feet before grabbing her by the chain that was attached to the collar on her neck.
Iris felt relieved, thinking that at least there will be no sexual abuse unless the King sells her again.
Iris has washed again but this time in a luxurious bath of rose petals before dressed in a cloth fit for a queen. Iris expected the servants to put the collar around her neck again but instead, they bowed down, “please follow us to the king's bed chambers.”
‘Oh no,’ Iris thought to herself, wondering what the king will do to her if he finds her not a virgin anymore.