A knocking came ringing through the room. It was not leading to the outside, but next door. The woman that called herself Sin jumped up, still naked and opened the door. Fire light flashed over her skin, illuminating the crazy woman, looking so beautiful.
“Sin, bring your sister.” A voice called out.
“Yes Mastah.”
Sin walked over reaching down picking me up by the arm, her hand squeezing hard.
“Come! Mastah says you come.”
“Oww..” I squealed.
I came to my feet and grabbed hold of my arm, a small bruise forming on my arm. I looked at the bruise then at Sin, her eyes wide, fearful. Her nose wrinkled, and she turned away quickly walking to the door and onto the next room.
I slowly followed holding my arm still, rubbing my thumb against the bruise. Before turning around through the doorway I dragged my face into my shoulder, cleaning the residue from the food. I glanced down at myself and saw crumbs all over my clothes. I wiped myself promptly.
“Sin, where is your sister?”
“Uhm… She…”
“I’m here… I’m here.” I said walking through the door, my arms hugging my chest.
“Come.” He waved me over.
Sin was kneeling on a plush red cushion, her arms folded in his lap, her head leaning on his side. No matter the love she showed him, her eyes glared at me. I kept my eyes on the floor taking small steps towards them. I glanced side to side seeing a large wooden table, basins full of fire, the warmth of the room being the only welcoming thing. His seat, looked of pure gold, matching the vest and seems of his blouse.
“So skinny…” He said, Sin nodding. “It’s an awful thing.” His hand going to Sin’s shoulder. “Sin has not known hunger for some time. She may have forgotten how skinny she was when I found her.”
Sin raised her gaze up to him, “I remember Mastah.”
He flashed a smile. “Then you remember spitting at me.”
Sin tore her eyes away looking at the floor, glancing up at me and back down.
“Sin was very… Is very wild.” He chuckled. “But Sin understands her role. Soon you will understand yours.”
I gulped and looked at Sin before glancing at him. “What is my role?”
Sin backhanded my leg. I looked down at her and she glared mouthing the words.
“Master… What is my role Master?”
“Grace.” He said. His thumb rolling on Sins shoulder. “You are my Grace where she is my Sin.”
“I…”
“Sin, you need to prepare for your show. Grace and I have rules to discuss.” He paused red eyes glaring at me. “Go my Sin.”
She left, she left me with him. The man who just hours ago killed Magister Sidonis without a hint of care. Was I to become just like Sin? Was I to be on stage for show? What rules did he have for me?
When Sin had left the room, she stared me down, the glare somehow more frightening than the man I was to call Master. I gulped, my eyes on my hands in my lap.
“What rules?” I asked.
“You will end every sentence you say to me with Master.”
I nodded, his hand raising a finger to my lips.
“You and your sister Sin will get along. And understand… Understand that both of you will get along.” He licked his lower lip. “You are not Sin, you are Grace. You are the opposite of your sister and thus will not be expected to perform as your sister. I will trust you with your Masters greatest secret.”
His eyes glowed a menacing red, his face leaning closer to mine, his finger pulling my lips apart. In that moment frozen in time, the intensity of his gaze stopping all fear.
“Can you keep that secret Grace?”
What could he expect from me?
“A secret your sister does not know? A secret that if you were to tell… No, you won’t tell will you Grace?”
As if his question granted me permission to move I shook my head. Why doesn’t Sin know? Sin is his favorite… Am I going to die? He must have seen the fear rising back in me, my body so cold.
“Oh Grace, your death will not come. Not if your Master has anything to do with it. If you keep this secret, you will live an eternity with your Master.”
His finger pulled away, and he sat back into his seat, his eyes beyond me, past the large table and to the front of his cabin.
“Out there is a world I control, just outside that door. Once off this ship my control diminishes, a little, but enough. You… You are too skinny to succeed in this task I am giving you. You first duty is to feed yourself.”
He reached down behind him, digging into a leather satchel. I heard metal clinging against one another and glass clinking just the same. When he sat back up he had a glass flask, deep amber almost purple liquid inside.
“You will take a sip of this every hour.” He grew stern. “Every hour. There is an hourglass in your room. You will use it. You will drink and in two week’s time you will be ready.”
My lips stuck together tore flesh when I spoke. “Ready for what…? Uhm… Master?”
“Ready to do your job my dear.” he licked his lower lip. “Ready to serve your purpose.”
I sucked in my own lips and kept my eyes off of him. I looked at the vial, the liquid inside. He wouldn’t poison me would he? He didn’t pay for me either… what am I worth to him?
“Master?”
“Grace?”
“Why me?… Master.”
He grinned licking his lower lip again. “I need more than Sin. She is the stage… you… you are the world.”
“Do you love Sin?”
“Uhm.”
“Master…”
“Sin is loved and adored on stage. Know any who harm her will end up as your Magister.” He licked his, lower lip. “Now what does that say about you? He wasted your potential and I will abuse it. I will drag you along but you will be better… do better. More than you will be as Sin and love… love this new life. You must.”
“What if I do not love it… master?”
“Then you failed. And I do not tolerate failure.”
He waved me away, “Go eat the fruit until you feel sick and drink from this.” He handed me the flask “Ever hour.” His hands squeezing mine. “Do not fail me my Grace.”
He released my hand and stood up from his seat. Behind him was another door in which he left, leaving me to walk back to my new room.
While gone someone had lit the coals, the basins ablaze. I slowly closed the door behind me examining the bed, the sheets, the comfort.
I sniffed and went to the dresser the hour glass on top. Licking my lips I looked at the glass, running my thumb over it. Removing the cork my nose wrinkled, the smell vile. I couldn’t help but cough, gasping for clean air. I reapplied the cork, tears dripping down my cheeks. I set the flask next to the hourglass and grabbed the platter of figs. Setting the figs stop the dresser I tossed one into my mouth, holding my breath. Popping the cork I then closed my nose with one hand and took a sip with the other.
I slammed the flask down and closed it up, chewing on the fig and swallowing. My breathing was quick, my nostrils flaring. My skin reddening, warmth pumping from my stomach to my fingertips. Colors got brighter, my neck taught and my appetite blaring.