The carriage ride to Malfoy Manor was suffocating, not because of its physical confines but because of the stifling silence that filled it. Lucius and Narcissa sat across from me, their postures regal, their expressions unreadable. Draco, seated to my right, stared out of the window, his jaw clenched as though the mere presence of my existence offended him.

The enchanted cuffs around my wrists tingled faintly, reminding me with every movement of my new reality. A slave. A servant. Less than human in the eyes of the people who now "owned" me. My stomach twisted in rebellion, but I kept my face blank, refusing to give them any satisfaction.

"You will follow the rules of this house," Narcissa said suddenly, her voice sharp and brittle as glass. Her eyes never left me, cold and calculating. "You will speak only when spoken to. You will keep to your duties and stay out of sight unless summoned. Any disobedience will be met with… consequences."

"I understand," I said evenly, my voice calm despite the anger boiling beneath the surface.

Lucius chuckled darkly. "She even sounds like she thinks she's above us. That will have to be fixed." His lips curled into a sneer as he leaned back, clearly pleased with himself.

I bit my tongue hard, tasting blood. They wanted me to break, to grovel, to cower. But I wouldn't give them that. Not now. Not ever.

Draco finally turned from the window, his gaze sliding over to me. He didn't sneer like his father or speak with venom like his mother, but there was no kindness in his eyes. Instead, there was something else—something I couldn't place. Disdain? Curiosity? A hint of guilt? Whatever it was, it was fleeting, gone before I could pin it down.

The carriage slowed, and my heart sank as the gates of Malfoy Manor came into view. The wrought-iron monstrosities loomed high, their intricate serpentine designs glinting in the fading sunlight. Beyond them, the manor itself stood like a monument to everything dark and oppressive in this world: grand and imposing, but cold and unwelcoming.

The carriage came to a stop, and Lucius exited first, followed by Narcissa. Draco stepped out next, pausing briefly to glance back at me. For a moment, I thought he might say something, but he merely frowned and turned away.

"Move," Lucius barked, his voice sharp.

I stepped out of the carriage, my legs unsteady but my resolve firm. As I followed the Malfoys into the manor, I couldn't help but marvel at its grandeur, though the beauty was tainted by the knowledge of how much blood and suffering it had taken to build such a legacy. The floors were marble, polished to a mirror shine. Chandeliers of crystal hung from high ceilings, casting fragmented light across the room. Every corner of the house spoke of wealth and power, but it felt as cold and lifeless as its inhabitants.

"This way," Narcissa said, leading me down a long hallway. The heels of her shoes clicked against the marble, each step echoing ominously. She stopped in front of a small door at the far end of the corridor and opened it, revealing a narrow staircase leading down.

"Your quarters," she said curtly. "The servants' quarters are in the basement. You will find your assigned tasks posted outside the kitchen each morning. Do not stray from your duties."

I stepped past her and descended the stairs, my heart sinking with each creaking step. The air grew colder the deeper I went, the scent of damp stone and mildew filling my nostrils. The room at the bottom was cramped and bare, furnished only with a cot, a wooden stool, and a small basin. A single candle flickered weakly in the corner, casting long, wavering shadows across the walls.

The door shut behind me with a resounding clang. For the first time since the auction, I was alone.

I stood in the middle of the room, the reality of my situation crashing down around me. My shoulders sagged under the weight of it all, but I refused to cry. Crying wouldn't solve anything. Crying wouldn't change what I had become in their eyes.

Instead, I sat down on the cot and stared at the flickering candle, my mind racing. I would bide my time. I would survive this, somehow. But more than that, I would find a way to escape. I didn't know how or when, but I would.

And when I did, I would burn this place and everything it stood for to the ground.