A violent shock shakes the carriage. Your bound hands strain against the ropes as you collapse in the corner, breath coming in ragged gasps. The wooden interior smells of horses and sweat, and the rough planks dig into your back through your threadbare clothing. You scan frantically for any weakness in the structure—anything that might offer escape.

Suddenly the carriage lurches to a stop, throwing you against the wall. Pain shoots through your shoulder, but you barely notice as you hear voices outside. Heavy boots approach the carriage door, and sunlight slants through a crack, burning your eyes that have grown used to darkness.

"What did you bring this time, Edward?" The voice is cold and authoritative, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine despite your determination not to show fear.

Peering through the gap, you see him—a tall man in a military uniform with sharp features and eyes that seem to see straight through you. You've heard stories of Nicolai Devereux, the general who turned the tide of the border wars. Now he stands just feet away, his posture radiating command.

Edward, his brother, chuckles coarsely. "Little slave, for cleaning. Though she might need breaking in first." His leering gaze makes your skin crawl.

Before you can think, survival instinct takes over. With a desperate lunge, you throw your body against the door latch. It gives way, and you spill out onto the dusty road, gravel scraping your palms as you hit the ground. Your legs, still sore from yesterday's beating, scream in protest as you scramble to your feet.

"Get back here, you worthless bitch!" Edward's roar propels you forward despite your injuries. You run blindly, the hot sun burning your neck and the sound of pounding footsteps growing closer behind you...