New story because, it's summer. I am really going to try with this one. I've been reading and studying to make this one a bit better than the rest. Disclaimer: I own nothing. Enjoy and review(if you want). Thanks for reading!

She didn't understand. None of the girls did. She could tell by the way Blossom squinted her eyes and the way that Buttercup let her head fall to the side just a bit in confusion. She did not know some of the words that the man in front of her father was saying.

"You own this debt John, and you have nothing else to offer."

Debt...

Bubbles hadn't heard that word before. It was a harsh sounding word as the man spat it out like something distasteful.

He was an important looking man. His clothing looked nothing like the faded patchwork rags that she saw among the sea of bodies in the Underground. Looking down at her own clothing, she gingerly rang a finger down a seam she had sown back together a couple of days ago. The black thread was jumbled and the line was crooked.

'I tried my best though'

Lifting her head, she mused. In the Underground, even your best may not be enough. There were mothers on the street, craddling corpses against their chest. Her best wasn't enough to keep her child alive. There were store clerks being robbed at knife point each day. Never making and keeping enough to make it above ground, their best wasn't enough.

The Underground was an unforgiving place. Fifty was the magic number. Barely anyone lived past it. If one did, well they were lucky. Murder, disease, and pillaging ruled the way of life. There was no regulation, no order. It was Hell on Earth, and honestly some people craved it. Lunatics pulled prostitutes into alleys just to slice them up. Their bodies would be found not even an hour later, the alley painted a permanent red with blood fresh and old. Caked into cracks and lines of old walls that told story after story of the unlucky woman who should have never walked the dark streets alone. Organs and limbs missing, those women were beautifully horrid sights. Good money in the black market. Dirty, bloody good money. Children would steal crumbs of bread just to have something in their stomachs for the day.

The man dressed in fine materials and metal adornments spoke again.

"The King wants reparations. The Council cannot postpone this any longer. We've tried fighting it, but he makes threats of execution"

"Regins, there must be something, anything! I have my skills and machinery. I've done amazing research. If I have to, I will try for my position as Court Physician again."

The man, Regins it seemed, sighed lowly. It was then that the man looked...tired. Lines on his face became more prominent. His hands shook with conflict as he ran them through his salt and pepper hair. His age was showing whether he wanted it to or not. Maybe that's the Underground working it's toll on him, but maybe not. He couldn't have been here for more than a couple of hours.

"My boy, the king does not want you. He never wanted you. Our King wanted her and know she is gone. May she rest peacefully. Bitterness plagues his heart, and time is doing it no better."

Regins looked over to the three girls huddled in the cracked corner of the sorry excuse of a living room. It made up the whole house, and the only thing dividing the space up was a small stove. A "humble" kitchen. His dark eyes met each fondly. Pink, Green, and finally blue. Bubbles had an odd feeling overtake her as he said his next words.

"King HIM wants the girls."

She saw the way her father's chest rose and fell with slient sobs. He was struggling to keep afloat, working to stay sain in a place designed for the depressed and pitful.

"You can let me take them now, or wait for the King's Guards to collect them tomorrow. The journey won't be pleasent for the girls if you go with the latter."

At six years old, Bubbles experienced her life ending before it even truly started.

Every girl has dreamed of being with a Prince. At least once, in forgotten dreams buried in the childhood fantasies of chivalry, splendor, and mythical creatures.

She admits that she did. She had no shame in indulging in the idea that a beautiful and kind Prince would whisk her out of the Underground.

Bubbles realized that in some twisted show of "fate" her fantasies came true. Sadly. Only, there is no Prince. There is only a wicked King and his awful daughter. A Princess spoiled rotten.

"Bubbles! Snap out of it. Finish getting dressed."

Shaking her head tauntly, she did as she was told. The other girls around her were dressing as well, and she noted that Blossom was already finished while Buttercup took her sweet time. She wore a simple dress, nothing too extravagant. Pale in color and a little stretched, she still considered it better than the cheap rags she used to wear over fourteen years ago.

'Why dress so nice for labor and humiliation anyways?' She could hear her sister Buttercup's complaint from the week before ring in her head.

"Line up girls! You know the drill!"

Hushed complaints and groaned followed.

Yes, they knew the drill. Line up for inspection, and then go do your chores. Finish said chores and then come back for prepping. Once you've painted your face, slapped on your jewelry, and changed your dress into something gaudy and ridiculous, go to the Courting hall. Be watched like a piece of premium meat and pray your not courted by the sleazest old fart in the building. Let the man touch you, and stroke his ego. Say your a Virgin even if your not. You don't have to please him, but entertain him. If likes you enough, he keeps you. Say your goodbyes and pack. Prepare yourself for either life as a wife or concubine.

Yes, they hated the drill. But anywhere is better than the Underground. Her and her sisters had been Ladies of the Court for four years, laborers for ten years prior. They could handle it.

"Let's take an extra long time to do our chores day."

She smiled at Buttercup and snickered at Blossom's hum of agreement.

At least they were still together, and at least their father's debt was cleared. No future Utoniums would have to give their freedom.

'Father...and his debt'

One would think that John Utonium owned the King money. Vast sums of gold to fill a standard treasure cell. No. He owned the King a concubine, a lady of the court who outshined all the rest. John owed King Herald Issac Mercer the right of Sarah Bellum's place in his bed.

Despite being over twenty years her senior, the King was enthralled with the young woman. Though she could not be his wife, for he was already married to a pitful older duchess, he dreamed of having her in his sheets, warming his side with her body. He wouldn't mind if she carried his son. He would find a way to appoint the bastard child a his heir.

Bubbles sombered at the thought of their father. Disease got to him seven years ago, but she thinks it was a broken heart that truly killed him off. His wife was dead, and his were daughters taken to live as their mother once did. All three sisters believed he blamed himself, and knew that their kind father wouldn't make it. It pained Bubbles so much. She remembered how she cried for weeks; ugly tears that were only mirrored by her sisters. She could still feel their sting on her cheeks and the way they took her breath away. Choking on nothing but pitful contempt.

"Bubs, did Holly say if we needed to tend to war horses today? I heard that there is a new foal waiting for us. I would rather check it to make sure the mother is caring for it properly."

Bubbles moved to look at her pink eyed sister, careful slipping on her shoes as she did.

"No, but I'm sure we can make time."

Holly, grunted from her place six steps away. Listening into the conversation when she heard her name.

"Why do you even bother. She's a War Mare, if the foal is weak, she will either cry, kill it, or both. You have other things to do, and that's not your job."

Holly was a hardened woman. She had been a laborer under the King's services since the age of four. Her parents sold her and with full pockets, left to go who knows where. Holly hated them for that. She waited for the day she was able to track them down. The brunette wasn't above murder, and Bubbles knew she would do it if she could. Her cold blue eyes spoke it freely to anyone that crossed her. Holly wasn't a concubine, but sometimes she wished she was, she would be able to taste freedom a little faster that way. Revenge would be a bit closer.

Bubbles idly thought that maybe Holly would like the Underground. She would probably enjoy the chaos and freedom, no matter how violently sick it all was. Holly would be a survivor.

"I know, but-"

"No buts Blossom. Do what has been assigned."

It was almost nightfall when the sisters finished was they were responsible for. Tired and sweaty, Bubbles held her breath in order to avoid the smell of her own skin. A quick bath was neccessary before she made her way to the Court. She waited for her turn, and hummed in the delight of feeling the cool water on her body. Lathering up the tiny piece of soap she was provided, she began to diligently scrub away the dirt of the day.

"Buttercup, do you know where I placed my pearls? I can't find them anywhere?

"No, check in the space between your bed and the wall. It could have fallen."

"I don't see i-"

"Found it! Here you go Bloss."

"Thank you."

"Time to enter Hell."

"Shh! Butters, mistress will hear you!"

Thank you for reading this chapter! Tell me what you think. This story will be a little more mature, but not much. Mature language and a bit of gore, but that's all. See you tomorrow!