The water was frigid, and the splintered wood of the bathtub pricked my skin. I sat in the water, scrubbing myself with a rag until my skin was raw and pink. The back room of the inn I was in had long ago become dark with the setting of the sun. Only a single, spitting candle that lie on the ground next to the tub provided any light. I watched the droplets of wax run down it, and marveled at theor similarity to the tears coursing down my cheeks. After I had used up the last of the soap that the kind wife of the innkeeper had left for me, I stepped out of the water and stood there naked, shivering. I searched for the clothes that had been left for me, and shrugged them on, ignoring the thin layer of bath water still hugging my skin like an icy blanket.
The dress I had put on was red, made of a cheap fabric that strived and failed to look expensive. The neckline was low cut, barely covering my breasts. A coarsely cut slit ran from the the my hip to the floor, exposing most of my left leg. I tried to tug it close, but could find no way from keeping it open. My master was smart. He only ever beat me on my lower back so that it would never be exposed in public. Even as this thought crossed my mind, I heard the all too familiar pounding of his footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the room I was in. I crossed my arms in front of my chest in a futile attempt at modesty, and jumped a little when he forcefully opened the door.
"Dammit," he said, with a volatile look in his eyes, "I was hoping you'd still be in the bath."
"Haven't disgraced my modesty enough times?" I replied quietly back. Quiet, but still defiant.
"I don't know about that. All I know is that our next costumer is very excited to...meet you." My master, who had never given me his actual name, was a big man, a giant, too big for any man to dare challenge him. He had the appearance of a wealthy man, too. Gold decorated his thick fingers and jewels sparkled from his ears. And he had never worked a day in his life, other then telling me where to go and with whom to go there with, as he had begun to do now.
"There's a man downstairs waiting for you. He's sitting at the bar and has got a brown hat on, and big bag of coins waiting for me. Come on." He grabbed my arm and pushed me out of the room. We went downstairs into the main room of the bar and inn. Most of the men were drunk, as was to be expected at a bar at this time of night. I spotted the man with the brown hat sitting at the bar, focused on the big mug of beer in front of him. As we approached, he looked up and smiled. It was horrible, more of a sneer than a smile, and was made up of two disgusting rows of yellow, cracked teeth, or a lack thereof.
"Well hello darling," he hissed.
I cringed, and did not reply. Instead, I focused on the man sitting two seats down at the bar. He wore a beautiful, baby blue cape that shimmered in the candle light. This was odd, for most of the other men in the bar had taken off their capes and coats, most old and brown, when they had walked in. Instead this man still wore his, and sat slouched over his drink, seemingly in deep thought. His face was shrouded, but a bit of blond hair poked out from underneath the hood.
I was jolted from my admiration of him by a firm grasping of my arm. The man had pulled me towards him, and my master stood behind me, pocketing the bag of coins they had just exchanged for me.
"We're going to have some fun, beautiful," the man said, pulling my face closer to his. I leaned back, resisting his advances.
"Please," I whispered, desperately. "I don't want to."
"I doesn't matter what you want, love. I payed for 'ya, and I'm going to get my money's worth." His grip on my arm tightened, and he stood up, heading for one of the side rooms and taking me with him.
"Please," I said again, a little louder this time.
"You better be quiet, girl," he warned in a low, dangerous tone. His grasp on my arm tightened even more and I released a yelp. He brought his hand back and slapped me across the face, hard enough so that I fell to the ground, holding my cheek that was now searing with pain.
I heard the sound of a bar stool fall over, and looked up to see the man in the blue cape and risen suddenly. He had quickly marched over to the man and drawn his sword.
"You will not touch a lady in such way," he said in a low grumble.
The man had drawn his own sword and had taken on a defensive position, ready to fight.
"I'll do what I want with 'er. I payed," he replied. I looked around the bar. My master had already disappeared. I still lied on the floor, and began to rise.
"Please. Stay down," the blond stranger said, gesturing for me to move out of the way. I crawled to a corner and leaned against the wall, still clutching my cheek.
"This lady is not your property. You will not touch her."
"And are you going to make me?"
The caped stranger quickly leaped into action, and began to fight with the man. It quickly became obvious that the man was no match for my savior, and soon he was pinned against the wall with a sword at his throat.
"If I ever see you so much as look at another young lady, I will have you arrested and in a cell for the rest of your life," the stranger said, with the same menacing growl.
"And with what authority?" the client challenged.
"With the my authority as the prince and heir to the throne of Camelot," the stranger said, removing his hood.
"Prince Arthur," I whispered, exhaling the breath I had been holding.