A few days slipped by in the same tense rhythm. Every night Olivia secretly watched her parents through the crack in the door, her young body learning new pleasures as she touched herself and squirted again and again in the darkness. During the day, however, she behaved as if nothing had changed — quiet, obedient, helping with chores like always.
It was now the end of the month. The air inside the cracked wooden-stone house felt heavier than usual.
Marlin stood near the door, tying a small sack of harvested crops — mostly dried vegetables and a few bundles of grain — onto his back. His face was grim.
"I'm heading to the noble's house in the main town today," he said, voice low and tired.
"They'll weigh the crops and give us whatever coins they feel like. Same as every month."
Elisha nodded while adjusting her faded shawl around her shoulders. She looked worried, the lines on her face deeper in the morning light.
"I'll go with you as far as the town. I need to look for any kind of work — washing clothes, cleaning houses, anything that pays. We need more money."
She paused, then glanced toward Olivia, who was quietly listening from the corner.
Olivia was twenty now. In the Valyria Empire, girls between eighteen and twenty-two were highly desirable for prostitution. Nobles and royals paid good gold for fresh, young bodies. Some girls were sold directly to private pleasure houses, others to the notorious prostitution districts on the edge of the capital. If a girl reached twenty-two without being married or entering that trade, her family had to pay double the usual tax to the royal collectors — a burden most poor families could not survive.
Marlin and Elisha had made their feelings very clear. They refused to let their only daughter be sold into that life.
Marlin looked at Olivia with tired but protective eyes.
"We don't want that path for you, girl. Not ever. So your mother and I are trying everything. Looking for better-paying work, saving every copper we can… and asking around quietly for a decent man who might take you as wife."
Elisha stepped closer and gently touched Olivia's cheek.
"We're doing this for you, my sweet. The empire is cruel to poor girls your age. If we can find you a husband before you turn twenty-two, or earn enough to keep the tax collectors away, then you'll be safe. Until then… we keep fighting."
Marlin slung the heavy sack higher on his shoulder and gave a small nod.
"Stay home today, Olivia. Lock the door properly. We'll be back before nightfall."
Elisha gave her daughter one last worried look, then followed her husband out of the house. The old door creaked shut behind them, leaving Olivia alone in the silent, moonlit-cracked home.
Outside, the distant noises of the empire town carried faintly on the wind — wagon wheels, market calls, and the invisible machinery of a kingdom that fed on both grain and flesh. Inside, Olivia stood still, the weight of her parents' words and the secrets of the past few nights pressing heavily on her young heart.
The sun was beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in warm hues of amber and rose as the day neared its end. Olivia had spent the afternoon alone in the silent, cracked house, doing small chores to pass the time. Just as she finished sweeping the dirt floor, a distant sound reached her ears — the steady rhythm of drums, the metallic clink of armor, and the loud cheers of townspeople.
Curiosity stirred inside her. She had never seen a royal parade before.
She stepped outside the house and stood near the old wooden fence, shading her eyes with one hand. From this distance — several hundred meters away on the main dirt road leading toward the noble district — she could clearly see the grand procession approaching.
It was the King's parade.
A magnificent open carriage, pulled by eight powerful white stallions adorned with golden harnesses and crimson plumes, moved slowly down the road. The carriage itself was enormous and ornate — carved from dark polished wood, trimmed with real gold, and draped in rich velvet banners of deep purple and blood red, the royal colors of Valyria. Silk curtains fluttered in the evening breeze.
At the center of the grand vehicle sat the King — a stern, middle-aged man with a thick beard and a heavy golden crown resting on his head. Beside him was the Queen, elegant and cold, wearing a luxurious gown of shimmering silk that hugged her mature figure. Behind them sat the Prince and Princess.
The young Prince, tall and strikingly handsome with sharp jawline, dark hair falling to his shoulders, and piercing eyes, wore a fitted black and gold tunic that showed off his broad chest and strong arms.
He lounged lazily on the cushioned seat, one hand resting on the hilt of his ceremonial sword. The Princess beside him looked bored, dressed in fine jewels and flowing silks.
Hundreds of royal guards in shining armor marched in perfect formation on both sides of the carriage. Drummers beat loud, rhythmic patterns. Servants threw flower petals and gold coins into the cheering crowd lining the road. The entire parade radiated power, wealth, and arrogance — a deliberate show of the empire's might.
Olivia stood mesmerized at the edge of her poor property, her simple patched dress clinging lightly to her young, curvaceous body from the warm breeze. Her full breasts rose and fell with excited breaths, her long hair catching the golden light of the setting sun. Even from this distance, her natural beauty stood out against the dusty, humble surroundings — soft face, wide innocent eyes, and a body blooming with fertile youth.
As the grand carriage rolled closer, the Prince's sharp gaze suddenly swept across the scattered houses on the outskirts… and locked onto her.
He straightened slightly in his seat. His eyes narrowed with interest. For a long moment, he stared directly at Olivia, drinking in the sight of the beautiful, poor girl standing alone near her broken fence. Something sparked in his expression — raw desire mixed with intrigue. A slow, hungry smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he continued watching her even as the parade moved forward.
Olivia felt a strange chill run down her spine when their eyes met across the distance. She didn't realize it yet, but stepping out to watch the parade had been a terrible mistake.
The Prince had seen her.
And he liked what he saw. Very much.
A few hours had passed since the royal parade rolled by. The sky had deepened into a dark indigo, stars beginning to prick through the cracks in the old wooden-stone walls. The house was quiet and empty. Marlin and Elisha still had not returned from the town.
Olivia sat on her straw mat, knees drawn to her chest, listening to the distant night sounds of the empire. A sudden, heavy knocking echoed through the thin door — three loud, authoritative bangs that made her jump.
She rose slowly, heart beating faster, and walked to the door. Her simple patched dress swayed around her legs as she lifted the wooden latch.
The moment the door creaked open, four royal soldiers in full armor and crimson cloaks pushed inside without a word. Their faces were hard, eyes cold under iron helmets. Two of them immediately seized Olivia by the arms, their gloved hands gripping her tightly.
"Wait— what are you—!" she gasped, trying to pull back.
Before she could finish, one soldier clamped a thick cloth soaked in a sweet-smelling liquid over her mouth and nose. The other two held her struggling body still as she twisted and kicked. The substance worked fast. Her vision blurred, her limbs grew heavy, and a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She let out a muffled, frightened whimper against the cloth, eyes wide with terror, before her body went limp in their arms.
The soldiers didn't speak. They simply lifted her unconscious form between them and carried her out into the night.
When Olivia's eyes fluttered open again, everything felt wrong.
She was no longer in her poor cracked house. She lay on a large, soft bed in a dimly lit room. Thick stone walls surrounded her, and the air carried the faint scent of incense and polished wood. A single ornate lantern hung from the ceiling, casting flickering golden light across the space.
Her arms were stretched out to either side of her head. Cold iron chains wrapped around her wrists, locked to heavy rings bolted into the wooden headboard of the bed — one chain on the left, one on the right. Her legs were also bound: thick chains fastened around her ankles and secured to the foot of the bed, holding them apart in a fixed, helpless position. The chains allowed only the slightest movement, rattling softly whenever she tried to shift.
Her simple patched dress was still on her body — the same worn, faded fabric that had clung to her curves all day. It had ridden up slightly around her thighs from the way she had been placed, but she was not naked. The thin material covered her breasts, her stomach, and the intimate parts of her body, though it offered no protection against the humiliating spread of her limbs.
Olivia's chest rose and fell rapidly with panicked breaths. She tugged weakly at the chains, the metal biting into her soft skin. The rattling echoed in the silent room. Fear and confusion flooded her innocent mind as she stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling, completely alone, completely restrained, and utterly unable to move from the bed.
She had no idea where she was.
She had no idea why the soldiers had taken her.
And the Prince's hungry gaze from the parade flashed through her memory like a warning she had been too late to heed.