Gypsy woman
She can swallow knives
She can swallow lives
Gold and black stare,
Brought the night of your demise
Actually, it's the single most
Racist song I have ever heard.
The only joy she gets in this life is watching the fearful flinch when she snarls. But, anyone with a spine knows that she has no rights, and no power. She's nothing but a Gypsy.
Oh, and she has tried so many times to tell them they are wrong. She is neither gypsy nor 'gyptian, but a moslem is just as bad, and just as worthy of shackles and slavery. So what, if she is just as learned in philosophy and religion as even the men of these pallid countries. That doesn't matter, when she is paraded about, chained at the ankles, and with little more than gauze for cover.
Humility was the first virtue to leave her, but at least it did not take pride away as well.
She has passed hands six times, over the course of her life. She is only thirty, but she is such a delicacy here. She is healthy, beautiful, dark skinned but not black, and her height towers above the natives, speaking of strength hidden against her well formed bones. If she wanted to, she could draw them in with her eyes alone. Once, she chose her own master, using that trick.
But, sadly, the trouble of living with criminals is that they have the habit of dying before you. Vika Vopskrest had undoubtedly been the best of her controllers thus far, but even she had not granted Aramina's freedom.
Thirty years old, and still in shackles. She would undoubtedly die a slave, even born a noble. Yes, the crusades had been cruel to her, cruel to all her people. But, she found herself often feeling that the dead had been the luckiest. At least she could not bear children. It had been a curse, in her first life. Now, it was a blessing. The Hedonist slaves were always well treated, and as long as her looks held out, she could avoid being beaten and killed.
How far she had fallen, if being the last of her family was a blessing.