Page 147 of A Simple Truth

It’s going to be okay.

It’s going to be okay,I repeated to myself again and again, my knees trembled, but I carried on with the dance.

And even if it wasn’t, I would make it. I would survive.

I could’ve sent a card to Gideon. I could’ve summoned Liriya. But he was more than half a day of flight away from here anyway. Even if he left an hour ago, he would still be late. And I didn’t want that hanging over his conscience.

Lady Fate and her cursed timing.

My stomach twisted and I let out another jagged breath as I copied the rest of the girls, lowering my body until my almost bare chest was at eye level with the observers. Although I couldnot see their faces, I still felt grimy; their hungry, lustful eyes on me, making my skin crawl.

Gods, maybe I should’ve gotten drunk.At first, being sober seemed like a smart choice. To stay in full control. To be in charge of the situation. But now, as the music quieted and all of us lined up for the bidding to begin, it seemed to be the wrong one.

Too late now.

I looked at my trembling hands, forcing them to still. The oils and lotions the girls had put on me made them shimmer in the candlelight. So enchanting, like the glow in the trance amidst my vision threads.

I held back an internal scoff.

Visions…If only I could’ve seenthisfuture with my other vision.That would have been nice. But no, instead I only saw what Fate wanted me to see. Rather a shitty gift, in my opinion.

I might not have control over my visions.

But this? This was my choice. To use my body to survive and help them survive.

A simple tool, nothing more, nothing less.

A positive outlook. Find one,I commanded myself as the rivers within me lost their shores, overflowing with dread.

I’ve been sold into slavery. I’ve been bought as a gift. And now, I am being bid on.

Perhaps I should think of myself as a pricey possession, an artifact of some sorts, considering the amount of money that had been exchanged for my boyish, freckled body.

Yes, an expensive, one-of-a-kind possession, indeed. An heirloom. A unique piece of art,I told myself. This positive outlook was beginning to sound more like absolute delusion, but I forced myself to continue.

Prized possessions make it through famines and wars, they survive, and they live on for generations. And so will I.

“Nizana!” My nickname sounded. I meekly and obediently curtsied before taking a step forward. “You seemed to make quite the impression today,” a tall man sneered, and I bowed even lower.

“Oh, thank you, my lord,” I replied, lowering my eyes to the ground, falling back into the tight mask of an obedient slave.

“Take her to the room. Your very generous bidder will wait for you there.”

My skin paled and blood rushed in my ears as I fought the screams of terror within me. I fought the urge to run, to push these two guards down the stairs, my steps becoming leaden, as we walked up the stairs, down the long hall. Soon, the guard opened the door to my room for the night, squeaking hinges echoing down the empty hall.

The room was quite simple. Two-post bed, a chair, a bronze candle holder, with all three tall candles lit up. Their little golden fire sent shadows dancing on the wall.

Perhaps it was despair, but I clung to that little warmth of fire in here, surprisingly comforted by the tiny flames. There, in the corner, hidden by the shadows, stood a large man, well over double my size. I bit the side of my cheek making it bleed, attempting to keep utter defeat at bay. My throwing knives were suddenly feeling like tiny toothpicks against his large stature. But I willed my clammy hands to still, my stomach to ease as it twisted in nauseating pain.

“Nizana,” the guard said, and from his tone, I knew that he realized I was not her.Well fuck, I guess I lasted longer than I thought I would.He warned before letting me enter the room, “This gentleman paid a very pretty penny for you, so treat him well.” With that, he locked the door behind me, the sound of the key clicking in the lock rattled me to my bones.

No escape now.

My mouth watered as bile burned my throat, but I swallowed hard, finding the last embers of courage before I moved one foot ahead.

“Hello, sir.” I bowed before the stranger. The tall figure turned around, taking a step closer to me. He pulled his hood down, stepping out of the shadows. “GIDE—” But before I could gasp, his hand closed on my mouth.

“‘HELLO SIR?’ WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, Finnleah?!” he angrily...no,furiously, hissed into my ear, releasing me. I blinked once, then twice, checking my palm for a burn mark, just in case, unsure if I was dreaming.

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