Page 15 of Upon Buried Embers
I drop it like it burned me.
“What are you doing?” Rohan barks at me, grabbing the soap.
“I… I’m not… I don’t.” My hands shake, and my head bows.
Slaves don’t use soap.
They are not worthy of the luxury.
We are dirty, rotten, and are beaten for daring to touch such a thing.
Is this some sort of cruel trick?
My hands go to the collar around my throat, my lungs seizing. I can’t get enough air in, I can’t breathe.
I’m not allowed to touch such things.
That’s bad.
I’ve been bad.
Hands grab mine, so large to my tiny ones, and my eyes shoot up to Rohan’s. He’s frowning.
“You haven’t used soap before?” His nose wrinkles, and shame fills me.
“I … I don’t think so.” I can’t remember much before I was sold, just a hazy memory of another girl, older than me and cleaning my knees. I think I had fallen.
“Why?”
“W-we’re not allowed.”
He scoffs. “You’re filthy and bloody, you smell worse than a pig farm and dragon shit.”
“S-sorry,” I wheeze, still trying to get my lungs to work.
“I don’t want a sorry, Elf, I want you clean. You’re mine. I stole you, claimed you. You can’t go around looking likeactualshit.”
He hands the soap to me again, and with shaky fingers, I take it. Rohan turns his back, washing himself and I rub my fingers over the soap.
My breathing eventually steadies, and I slowly put the soap against my pale, bruised and torn, skin, rubbing in circular motions.
It stings with the cuts all over my body, far too many to keep track of, but somehow during this, the suffocating feeling vanishes, and I realize I have a tiny smile on my face.
I watch as the dirt and grime are removed from my body in fascination. I’ve never been so clean before, always having some dirt on me and with only cold water to wash myself with, it never fully came off.
I take my hair in my hands next and sigh at the tangled, curly mess.
How do I even begin with this?
I pick up a good chunk of hair and rub soap into it, starting at the ends and working my way up to the top of my head.
Maybe this will work.
I hiss when I hit a spot that really hurts, my vision blurring for a moment.
“What is it?” Rohan asks, and I peel my eyes open. “Let me see.”
I drop my hand, and he moves my hair out of the way, pressing down on it. I cry out, trying to back away.
