how may I serve you...
It is the Silver Millennium. Sort of. The time is during the Silver Millennium, but the place is Earth. The Golden Kingdom, the pinnacle of ancient culture, nobility, science, and...slavery?
Anyone who thought it didn't exist would be fooling themselves. They were everywhere, and this girl was no exception. She's cleaning up a receiving room, knowing that it was to be kept pristine at all times no matter what time of day it was. Anyone could visit at anytime, after all, and the mistress of the house would give her a beating if it wasn't absolutely perfect. That alone was enough to annoy her, as she hated the woman who lorded over her and the others. But she hated the master - her master, who had bought her in the past year - more. What awaited when he returned home - every day, no matter how tired she was - made her want to run away and never return. Not that she could, of course, with the tag on her back. At least, she couldn't yet.
Feeling the mistress' glare towards her - was it her fault she was so pretty, so prideful, to have caught her master's attention? - she lowers her head and goes back to work. If a woman came to call, she was expected to serve food and drink no matter what. If a man came by, well - she would be expected to serve something else entirely.
But regardless, do come in. The owners of the house - and this slave, among others - are rich and the mistress will take pains to put on a perfect face for any visitor - especially those of the influential type.
((OOC; Pre-working-at-the-palace Beryl. Yup.))
Anyone who thought it didn't exist would be fooling themselves. They were everywhere, and this girl was no exception. She's cleaning up a receiving room, knowing that it was to be kept pristine at all times no matter what time of day it was. Anyone could visit at anytime, after all, and the mistress of the house would give her a beating if it wasn't absolutely perfect. That alone was enough to annoy her, as she hated the woman who lorded over her and the others. But she hated the master - her master, who had bought her in the past year - more. What awaited when he returned home - every day, no matter how tired she was - made her want to run away and never return. Not that she could, of course, with the tag on her back. At least, she couldn't yet.
Feeling the mistress' glare towards her - was it her fault she was so pretty, so prideful, to have caught her master's attention? - she lowers her head and goes back to work. If a woman came to call, she was expected to serve food and drink no matter what. If a man came by, well - she would be expected to serve something else entirely.
But regardless, do come in. The owners of the house - and this slave, among others - are rich and the mistress will take pains to put on a perfect face for any visitor - especially those of the influential type.
((OOC; Pre-working-at-the-palace Beryl. Yup.))