The little girl, barely ten years old, ran into the courtyard, a rag doll grasped tightly in her pudgy, white hand. She plopped down near the bushes, playing with the doll, her laughter pealing through the air like silver bells. She was a servant girl and had been for her all her childhood. She was an orphan and no one knows exactly how she came to be a slave. Mama, the head servant, says she just appeared one night.

"Durza, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to!" The girl looked up in time to see a man with crimson hair push another man down to the ground with such force a few teeth were knocked out. The tall man, Durza, she was assuming, smirked down at the injured man, muttering under his breath. The man on the ground was lifted up into the air by an invisible force.

"Jonathon, you betrayed the King. That's a crime worthy of death. And so be it."Again, Durza muttered under his breath. Jonathon's breath came harder and his face turned red. His body swelled and then suddenly, he exploded. Blood coated everything, including the little girl. Durza had turned to go back into the castle, but the child's scream caused him to turn around. Upon seeing the small girl, he smiled, showing off sharpened teeth. Producing a dagger from his cloak, he walked towards the child and in one quick motion, slit her throat. "You stupid wench."

"Raisa! Wake up!" I gasped, snapping my golden brown eyes open. My hands found their way to my neck, touching the rough black cloth I wore around it to make sure the scar remained out of sight. Yes, I was the girl in the nightmare. That had been seven years ago. Luckily, Mama had found me in time, so I didn't bleed to death. However, my voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper.

"Raisa, this is the third night in a row." My best friend, Miriam, ran a hand through her matted red hair, her bright green eyes red from exhaustion. We slaves were allowed little luxuries, those of which included baths. I looked down, feeling guilty for keeping her awake at night with my mumbling and attempts at screaming.

"I'm sorry." Even though I could still talk, I chose not to most of the time. I hadn't really liked speaking and ever since the incident, talking for so long made my throat hurt. I dropped my hands from my neck and looked out the window. The sun was peeking over the mountains. I pulled the blankets from my body and got out of bed.

"Here." Miriam reached into the chest at the foot of my bed and handed me a deep red dress, simply cut. I smiled and took it, blinking to thank her. She nodded and reached into her own chest, choosing a forest green dress that made her features pop.

Once we were dressed, we grabbed each other's hand, a symbol of friendship and loyalty, and headed to the kitchen. Miriam and I scrubbed dishes, which was the lowest position a servant could have. Miriam was a scrubber because she had a rebellious side and a rather interesting vocabulary. I was a scrubber simply because I was an orphan and had no status among even the slaves.

"Finally! I've been waiting all morning for you." Ana, the slave in charge of kitchen work, glared at us. I bowed my head and Miriam bit back her comeback. She remembered how hard Ana hit with a wooden spoon. "You girlies will be working overtime tonight. Galbatorix has a very special guest and the dinner must be absolutely delectable, meaning the dishes they are on must be cleaner than normal."

Miriam and I bowed and hurried towards the large, wooden tub where the dirty dishes were collected. Grabbing a rag from the side, I plunged my hands into the water and began scrubbing at a plate. Miriam did the same. After a few moments, she said, "I bet its Murtagh."

"Who?" Slaves were allowed free time after their chores were completed and I normally spent my free time in the garden or my room, staring out the window, so I never got the gossip on who was new or what. Miriam, though, was quite popular among everyone, so she was my source of the best news.

"Murtagh, the handsome new prince." Miriam's eyes softened and a smile grew ever so faintly on her lips, a look I knew well.

"You have a crush on this man. Come on, tell me about him!" I smiled. Miriam always had a man she was chasing after. She had been to bed more times than I cared to count and she came to bed late, cheeks flushed from a quick session with her current man. I loved it for her, but I was innocent. I didn't trust men really nor did I think I was pretty enough to snag a man. I was much too short, my skin was milky white and I had purple bags under my golden brown eyes from lack of sleep. My hair was long and wavy, but a dull brown. Men wanted girls with exotic features like Miriam or Bell, the prettiest girl I knew. She was blonde with rosy cheeks and clear blue eyes.

"Well, he's rebellious and a tough guy. He's tall, dark and handsome. That's all I heard before decided he was my new man!" She threw back her head and laughed. Ana looked over with an annoyed expression. Miriam simply smiled back, so sweetly it made my tooth ache.

"He sounds like your kind of guy." I looked down at the sudsy water; my hands wrinkled from the cold water and continued scrubbing.

When we had finally finished every single dish, it was near time for dinner. I stood up and allowed myself a moment to stretch my back. I leaned down and grabbed a stack of plates and walked to Ana. She grabbed the plates from me and said, "Oh, Raisa, the King requested that you go to the bathing room immediately."

I tilted my head in confusion, but nodded and hurried away, glancing at Miriam on my way out. The bathing rooms weren't hard to find. A woman I didn't recognize smiled and walked to me. "You must be Raisa. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

I followed her, keeping my gaze on the ground. Inside, I saw a large tub filled with steaming water. The woman commanded me to strip and I did so, somewhat embarrassed. I was never naked in front of anybody, even Miriam who was like my blood sister. I stepped into the water and sighed inwardly at how amazing the hot water felt on my skin. The woman began scrubbing the dirt away from me. She dunked my head into the water and washed my hair. Before I was ready to get out, she handed me a towel, told me to dry off and walked out of the room. In a minute, she returned, holding a folded square of white cloth. Once it was unfolded, I saw it was a small dress. She helped me into it and I was amazed at how well I looked in it. It reached a few inches above my knees and it was sleeveless, held up by my breasts.

"Follow me." She briskly walked out of the room and I hurried to catch up. I was panting by the time we finally stopped in front of a large, oak door. She opened the door without knocking and I followed her inside. I gasped at the interior. The floor was covered in a white rug that was deliciously soft against my bare feet. A fire was burning in the large heart and on the wall opposite the fireplace was a huge bed with a black canopy. A sizeable window was covered with a black curtain and there was a table with two chairs by a massive bookshelf.

"Alright, Raisa, you are now Murtagh's slave." Ana smiled grimly when she saw the look of shock on my face. "You were chosen for your innocence and behavior. You'll do fine. He should be arriving any minute. Good luck."

Ana left me alone in the large room. It was so much nicer than my own room, which consisted of two beds, two chests and a window that allowed a cold draft or made the room unbearably stuffy depending on the season. I didn't want to sit down and ruin anything so I just stood there, allowing my feet to bask in the wonderful, soft rug.

"Who are you?" I turned around and my face smashed against someone's chest. Backing away, I looked up and saw a man, maybe twenty years old. He had a tanned muscular body, deep brown hair that framed a pair of grey eyes. It had to be Murtagh. "I said, who are you?"

"I'm Raisa." I cleared my throat, wincing inwardly at the pain it caused me. "I'm your new slave."

"Raisa, eh? How old are you? And can you speak louder?" He pushed past me, taking off his shirt, revealing a long scar on his back that spanned shoulder to hip. I had to admit, it looked a lot more painful than my tiny scar.

"I'm seventeen." I tried to make my voice louder, but it only caused me pain. I gasped out loud and he turned around. My face must have been twisted with pain because a look of pity flashed in his eyes, but was replaced with the cold stare they had had earlier.

"What's that cloth around your neck?' He walked over to me and fingered it. I backed away, shivering. I never had shown anybody the scar except for Mama and Miriam and not even they knew the full story as to how I had gotten it. Mama thought I had just fallen wrongly and cut myself on something sharp. Miriam knew it was Durza's doing, but not why. Murtagh smirked and pulled me closer, his finger loosening the cloth. I struggled faintly and murmured, "Please don't."

He sighed, tightening it again. His hand lingered on my neck before trailing up to my cheek. He wrapped his arms around me and crushed me against his chest. I froze, terrified he would pull a knife and stab me to death. I pushed away from him, tears sliding down my cheek. He looked hurt, but didn't say anything about it. He grabbed my hand, gently but with meaning, and pulled me towards the bed. He picked me up and laid me down, then crawled in beside me. He looked like he wanted to hold me again, but refrained from doing so. He turned so his back was to me and soon fell asleep. I snuggled up to myself, allowing part of my arm to touch his back. In a few minutes, I was asleep as well.

"Raisa, wake up, Raisa!" I sat up in the bed, my eyes sticky and swollen. I had been crying in my sleep again. I looked up, expecting to see Miriam, but instead it was Murtagh. I had forgotten about last night. I wiped my eyes and waited for the trembling to stop. Murtagh cupped my chin and tilted my head upwards. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, then shook my head. I had to speak to my master. "Yes. It was ju-"

Murtagh put a finger to my lips, shushing me. "It hurts you to speak so much. I can see it in your eyes."

I looked down, blushing. He was much kinder than I would expect a master to be to his slave. He got up out of the bed, walked towards the door and when he noticed I wasn't following, smiled and said, "Come on, sweetling."

Sweetling? That's something lovers call each other. Confused, I got up and followed him out of the room.

MURTAGH'S POV

What is wrong with me? Here I am, a mastermind of breaking girls' hearts and I'm feeling so different about this slave girl! I don't want to hurt her or anything like that. When she looks at me, I can see enough sorrow and pain in there. I want to make it all go away.

I clenched my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms. This feeling was new to me. I had even called her sweetling. Sweetling! I shook my head furiously as we entered the kitchen. I reached behind me and pulled Raisa to my side, my arm holding her closely so that she might feel protecting. Instead, she trembled and tried to put as much space between us as she possibly could. I sighed, dropping my arm. That was something I would have to dig for. Also, what was she hiding under that ridiculous cloth?

"Master Murtagh." The maid bowed deeply. I waited for her to finish before requesting two glasses of warm milk and honeyed bread. In a few minutes, she gave the items to me and I led Raisa out into the courtyard. She stopped as we came into sight of the courtyard, visibly trembling and her eyes wide with fear. "Rai-"

Before I could finish my question, she ran away, back into the castle. I dropped the food, racing after her. She was very small and took short strides so it wasn't long before I overpowered her near the slaves' quarters. I held her close to me, stroking her back. She struggled to get away for a minute, but pressed herself against me, crying into my chest.

"Raisa?" A redheaded girl came out of the room we were near. She took one look at Raisa and pulled her away from me, hugging her. "What's wrong?"

I had to lean forward to hear it. "C-Courtyard."

"Did he take you there?" The girl shot me a look that could kill and scowled at me. "Listen, if you had a heart, you wouldn't be taking Raisa to the courtyard or anywhere near there."

Raisa backed away from the girl. "Miriam…"

"Hush, Raisa. Murtagh and I are going to have a nice little talk." The girl, Miriam, grabbed the crook of my arm and dragged me down the hall to a palce where Raisa wouldn't be able to hear us. She slapped me across the face. Normally, I would have killed her on the spot for something like that, but if it concerned Raisa, I could bite back my respect issues. "What are you doing taking her out there? Do you not know what happened to her?"

"Obviously not." I didn't like this girl's attitude.

"I'm sure you know Durza. Well, he decided to use her to practice his butchering skills on. That cloth around her neck ain't just there to look pretty." Her green eyes twinkled with anger and…was that lust? All the slaves wanted me. It was both a good thing and bad thing. I could pleasure myself anytime I wanted, but they always expected something more from me. "Are you her master?"

I nodded. She smiled. "Good. I'd rather it be you than someone else. You don't seem cruel. She needs someone nice that will make her feel safe."

I nodded again than hurried over to Raisa. I reached out and pulled her close again. She hesitated before leaning against me, just barely resting her head on my chest. Miriam once again pulled her away from me and hugged her. She winked at me and I offered a half smile in return. Her cheeks turned a ruddy red and she hurried back into the room.

"Come on. I'll take you back to my room and we'll have breakfast there." I placed my hand on the small of her back and led her back to the room. Once inside, a maid brought us some more warm milk and honeyed bread and we ate the breakfast in silence, though it was a comfortable one.