One hundred and thirty-two: Life as a slave

They were right. Life was easier as a slave. I needed no emotions. Work was not a chore, but a pleasure. I did only as I was told. There was no need to think. No need to plan. No need to worry. The Master would do all of that for me. Being both a queen and a slave, I had other people wait on me. Help me eat. Help me dress. Tell me what to do and what to say.

Nothing mattered to me, but my Master's pleasure and happiness. Nothing else was important, but to serve him to the best of my ability. Dr Eisor was right. I was perfect for this job. Speaking of Dr Eisor, his illness flared up and he died. At the news, I was neither happy nor sad. Slaves had no feelings, you see. After that, since I had become so good and obedient, Kiran relaxed his control over me. After all, I had borne him many children. He didn't need to do anything else when he gave me back control of my body and mind. I didn't deviate from what I had been taught. I was a slave. Nothing else. Life continued in peace and harmony. Everything happened when it was supposed to happen. Everything happened as expected.

Until an old friend came to visit.

My Master led an old man with a hunched back and balding head into the house. He looked somewhat like a vulture. It was familiar. Very familiar, but I couldn't remember where from.

"I've brought a friend home to visit. He's been wanting to see you for years and I thought that perhaps it was time to prove to him that you are perfectly safe and happy where you are. He is a distinguished guest," My Master told me.

"This slave greets the Master's distinguished guest," I bent my knees and lay my hands one atop the other on my chest. My eyes remained lowered, gazing at the man's suit trousers, glimpsing his upper body and face only through my eyelashes.

"Jean, don't you recognise an old friend anymore?"

I glanced around the room, seeking who the familiar vulture might be speaking to.

"This slave does not see anyone called Jean within the room. May this slave know who this lord was addressing?"

"My God, man," the Vulture turned to my Master with a voice tight with fury. "What have you done to her?"

"This slave begs this lord to please calm his anger. Do not be angry. Please tell this slave what it has done wrong to cause such displeasure and this slave will seek punishment from the Master."

"You. I was addressing you," said the Vulture rudely. "Don't call me 'lord'. Call me Alistair like you always used to. Your name is Jean."

"This slave is a slave," I replied. "It has no need of a name. Please tell what this slave has done wrong and this slave will go receive its punishment."

"You have done nothing wrong," the Vulture burst out and spat. "Nothing!"

"Then would this lord please calm his anger."

I heard the Vulture take a few deep breaths.

"Would this lord wish the slave to bring him a drink to help him calm down?" I asked doubtfully.

"No," was the short answer.

"Go," ordered my Master. "Get him a good cup of tea."

I went and brewed the tea and while I did so in the kitchen, I heard the men talking in the other room.

"That's not Jean anymore. What have you done to her? Don't you know that this was one of her greatest fears?" the Vulture's voice was tight full of anger again. "You told me she was safe and healthy. This is not safe and healthy! It took years before you let me come back to visit and this is what you show me? This is your idea of her being happy? Tell me what old geezer convinced you to do this to her and I'll go kill him for you. I thought I was coming to bring a friend a warning that his enemy is about to make a move. I regret it. I'm sorry, Kiran, but we are no longer friends. Our friendship ends here. No wonder you never let her parents visit. Never let her brother see her. If her brother ever saw this, he would revolt!"

"Her brother knows. All of Boskyland knows."

"Knows what? That their queen is a mind controlled slave? So brainwashed she no longer remembers her own name?"

"I didn't want her to turn out like this either," my Master's voice mumbled, "but I didn't have a choice. She didn't love me anymore. Didn't want me anymore. Besides, both our countries wanted her under control. That was the deal. I didn't have any choice. Your country sent a representative to watch the procedure even. You didn't know? Now she's under control."

"If you had ever truly loved her in the first place," the Vulture said in an icy voice so cold that it made me shiver, "you would have let her go. Rather than control her to such an extent she's turned into little more than a robot. If you had loved her, you would have let her be free."

"If she had stayed with you," my Master argued, "she would never be free. She would have lived all this time behind bars and behind closed doors."

"And this is freedom? I can tell you, Kiran, that she would have rathered to have died in a prison cell than willingly become something like this. At least she would have had freedom to think, speak and move. Within her house, she could have done anything she likes. She could sing, dance, draw, study, learn or even work. The girl you fell in love with is nothing like this."