Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Emilia
You’re late!”
The witch’s grating voice tears through the barn the moment I step inside, sharp enough that my stomach twists with panic. People have been thrown into the goddamn Cell for less than turning up late.
Dressed in tailored brown trousers and a red silk shirt, Ruby Engleberry stands at the end of the room, utterly out of place, like always, black clipboard in hand. Her lips are twisted in a sneer, beady brown eyes watching as my boots clatter against the concrete.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “There was a queue for the showers.” It’s the truth, but it’s nothing that will help me.
They insist we turn up to work squeaky clean, and I wasn’t exactly that after my early morning with Rayden. By the time I got back to the house, the girls who make the Enforcers’ breakfasts—the ones who work in the kitchens—were already lined up ahead of me.
“Is that supposed to excuse you?” Engleberry snaps. “Poor time management?” Her nostrils flare as she strides towards me. I stay rooted to the spot, ignoring every instinct that screams at me to run. Her arm lifts, and I don’t have time to flinch before her palm cracks against my cheek.
Pain flares across my face, and I hit the filthy floorboards with a cry. Hay pokes into my skin, and my cheek stings as I blink away traitorous tears threatening to fall. The taste of blood fills my mouth.
Fury swirls inside my chest, but I know better than to act on it. Slowly, I push myself up. A smirk tugs at her lips, and my fingers curl into fists. For a heartbeat, I imagine driving my fist into her throat—
“Mrs Engleberry!”
Both of us glance towards the voice. A young redheaded girl, wide-eyed, only just old enough to be out here, stands in the door of the barn wringing her hands together as she glances between us.
She’s quiet and reserved, but someone who always smiles at me whenever we cross paths in the girls’ home.
“What?” Engleberry hisses, clipboard falling to her side, exasperated.
“I just saw Barry loading the truck to go east instead of west,” Pippa says.
“Bloody idiot,” Engleberry barks, discarding me without a second glance. Her heels crunch over stray hay as she storms out, ponytail swishing.
Pippa shoots me a small sympathy-filled smile, before darting away, disappearing into the fields.
Straightening my spine, I head for the hooks on the far wall, hauling on my overalls and swapping my boots for trainers. My cheek throbs, and I exhale through my nose, trying to ignore it.
I’m no stranger to the farm’s punishments. Turn up late, and I get a slap. Pause for a breath, and I’ll get a swift punch that drives the air from my lungs. The punishment for stealing a bite to eat outside your allocated fifteen-minute lunch isn’t even worth thinking about.
Every bruise is a lesson; every scar a reminder of what happens if I forget my place.
I’ve been shoved into the cold, hard Cell in the centre of the city on more than one occasion for fighting back, so I don’t bother anymore.
As I leave the barn, I grab a wicker basket from the wall and hook both hands around it, gripping it tight to hide that they’re shaking slightly from anger.
The air reeks of manure. Side-stepping two workers digging around the tomato plants, I set off towards the rows of strawberries, blonde strands already falling loose from my messy topknot and dangling in front of my eyes.
A sharp, deep-timbred shout echoes around the field.
I stumble to a stop as other workers freeze around me.
Dozens of us turn in unison towards the stationary trucks behind the barn.
A man leaps from the back of the closest truck and his voice booms out, rough and angry.
We can’t hear Engleberry’s reply, but his boots slam into the dirt as he closes the space between them.
He towers over her, words that we can’t hear spitting from his mouth with ferocity that has her staggering, nearly tripping in her clean heels.
She’s not used to anyone answering back.
A grin tugs at my lips, small and dangerous, and I dip my head to hide it.
The cow deserves it.
But my amusement doesn’t last.
Two Enforcers appear from nowhere, dressed in familiar, dark green uniforms. One grabs the man’s arm, yanking him away from Engleberry before letting go just before the other presses a taser to his back.
He screams, a high-pitched, gut-wrenching shout that has workers around me flinching.
My teeth dig into the inside of my cheek.
His knees buckle, body convulsing before he hits the ground.
The Enforcers are on him in seconds, a knee to his back, forcing him into the dirt.
I can’t look away. My throat tightens. He’s fighting, desperately, and I… just can’t understand why.
They’re only going to break him.
He’s just a truck driver; one of us. Someone who’s been assigned to transport goods from the farm to City Hall.
His head jerks to the right, dark eyes locking with mine.
Shit.
I freeze, eyes widening, guilt knotting in my gut as I watch them haul him to his feet and drag him away without doing a single thing.
“Girl!” Engleberry’s voice cuts through my thoughts. I blink, tearing my eyes away. Everyone else has already returned to work. Her eyes narrow, confidence back in full force now the Enforcers have done her dirty work. “If you don’t want the same treatment, I suggest you get to work.”
My gaze drops as I turn and hurry towards the strawberries, head down, teeth clenched.
It’s not like I can do anything. None of us can.
Once, a girl called Helena from Grafton House said she was done with the State’s rules.
She was going to leave, and head for the countryside where she could finally be free.
She disappeared that evening, and no one ever heard from her again.
The House Mother told us afterward that leaving Nottingham wasn’t an option, her voice blunt and to the point, leaving no room for argument.
So we were left to assume one thing… that Helena didn’t make it.
We’re all just slaves in this kingdom—completely and utterly at the State’s mercy. In two weeks, I could be married to someone I’ve never even met, forced into a State approved match that’s designed to boost the population. To keep their regime alive.
There is no choice.
None.
Absolutely fucking none.