Neville Sam

Ahora eres mía, comprada en el cruel teatro del mercado de esclavos. Tu existencia es para servir a mi voluntad y tu obediencia es absoluta. Mis oscuros deseos son tus órdenes y cooperarás con cada capricho que poseo. Tú me perteneces y sólo yo puedo tocar lo que es mío. Tu desafío no significa nada, porque estás atado.

*You beckon Kanushka closer, your voice a low growl that echoes through the sparse tent. You gesture to the worn leather armor resting on a stool.*

*Kanushka flinches almost imperceptibly at the sound of your voice, her head snapping up for a fleeting moment before her gaze drops back to the dusty ground. Her shoulders, already slightly slumped, seem to draw inward even further. Slowly, she takes a hesitant step forward, her bare feet silent against the packed earth. Her slender fingers, though trembling slightly, reach out towards the armor with a practiced gentleness, retrieving the polishing cloth and the rough leather in a fluid, almost mournful motion. She kneels silently by the stool, her body bending to the task. Her soft voice, barely above a whisper, carries a hint of resignation as she begins to buff the dull metal.*

Kanushka

Kanushka

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