The Basket She Called Trash

Dragging her exhausted body with her, she made for the backyard where no one would see and sank down in a heap. If she meant to get through what remained of the day, she needed even a moment's rest.

From her pocket Roina drew the torn scraps of ham and the slightly soft plum she had hidden there, and ate them in a rush. They were the best of what the kitchen had thrown away, and even these she had struggled to conceal, wary of watching eyes.

It was a small mercy that the kitchen—which presented only the finest food in the Empire—discarded things that had not spoiled badly. The rations set aside for Roina were another matter entirely: a thin, pale-gray soup so watery it seemed nearly impossible to have made it so on purpose, and coarse crumbs of bread that smelled strange. If she did not scavenge like this, she would not hold out.

In truth, she ate for the quiet of her mind as much as for survival. Since she had come here, hunger had strangely seldom found her. Even so, to a woman who had once been Korean, the people of this place felt unbearably cold—working her to exhaustion, and never once giving her a proper meal.

Roina finished the brief meal on a sigh. Fruit was good, at least; it eased her throat without her having to find water. When she was done, she drew her knees up and passed her fingers over her neck once more. The binding curse carved there would burn her alive should she take a single step beyond the Imperial Palace, or should Roberto's secrets ever leave her lips.

They say even rolling through a field of dung, this life is better than the next... But is this really living? I'm going to die from this. I really am.

She had endured by telling herself that if she held on just a little longer, the heroine of the original story would appear. That confidence was wearing thinner by the day. The ache in her body she could bear, one way or another. It was the hostility and the indifference poured over her that felt as if they would suffocate her. Little by little, she was losing faith that she could keep this life going.

Once the heroine appeared, the crown prince's interest would turn from her. Her goal was to have a way out prepared by then.

Before that, if I can meet the original story's secondary lead—the Archmage—I might bargain with what I know. He'd be the right one to undo this binding on my neck, too... No, wait—

A wrongness struck her all at once. What little sunset light had been lingering vanished. She sprang up to flee, but she was already too late. A figure burst from the bushes, seized her, and wrenched both arms behind her back, twisting them into a bind.

"Damn it, this bitch has sharp instincts!"

"Shit, she's strong, too. What the hell has she been eating, to have this much fight in her!"

The voices were rough and low. Roina kept thrashing, but the man holding her was solidly built, and tearing free was not easy.

A glance at their faces told her they were the newly hired stablehands. They had not been here long enough to know how dangerous it was to lay hands on what belonged to the crown prince.

"Who put you up to this?"

"Wh-what? H-how did you—"

"Put up to it? Put up to what! Is this little bitch already out of her mind?"

The younger of the two holding her stammered in a panic, but the older one cut him off with a vicious look.

So someone really did send them. Who?

She tried to search her memory, but her face tightened as hands groped hastily at her thigh and fumbled along the front of her clothes.

"If you do this, His Highness the Crown Prince will not let it stand. You're being used right n—aah!!"

"A slave whore, putting on airs? Huh? You think I'm a fucking joke, too?"

Damn it. Wrong approach. This was not a man she could reason with. The younger one pinning her seemed to have taken a little fright, but the older man only yanked her hair harder, spraying spit as he spoke.

"M-Matt... wh-what if we actually get punished? If I cause trouble here too, I'm finished. I'm telling you."

"That bitch is bluffing because she thinks we're idiots! What's some nobody with no one behind her going to do? You've seen it plain as day—everyone ignores whatever comes out of her mouth!"

Roina held her tongue for a moment. With a man like that, anything she said would only provoke him. Instead, she turned her words on the one holding her down.

"I am a maid in service to the crown prince—ugh. If I'm hurt, do you truly think His Highness won't know?"

At that, the younger one's grip slackened, as if he were wavering. Roina did not miss the opening. She struck him hard in the abdomen and slipped free of his arms—but in the same instant the hand still knotted in her hair flung her down, and her head cracked against the ground. The blow was so hard her skull rang.

But this was better. If she fought hard enough to leave wounds, there would be evidence. In two years, countless things had happened to her. Just because she was powerless before the crown prince did not mean she owed submission to everyone else. Every time something like this occurred, she resisted fiercely and drove the offender off. As a result, among the palace staff now, no one dared try anything against her in the open. Unless they were drifters like these, they all knew that laying hands on her directly was not something they could get away with in secret.

"M-Matt... she's bleeding from the head! What are we going to do if someone finds out..."

"Why should I care? I've come this far. I'm seeing it through."

"No... if you're going to do it, do it alone! I have nothing to do with this!"

Ha. Damn it. She had fallen into the hands of the worst kind of human filth. Roina cursed under her breath and drew a deep breath. She did not know if it would work, but she had to scream before they could stop her mouth. One, two...

What?

Roina lifted her eyes—hard to open through the blood—toward the familiar voice. There stood Lady Mayli, a basket in her hands, her face alight with fury.

"Of House Amasto...!! Oh dear, what brings you to so shabby a place... This one wouldn't listen, so I was only giving her a bit of discipline..."

The moment he saw her, the man called Matt broke into a cold sweat and began making excuses. Free of his grip, Roina smoothed her crumpled, torn clothes, drew out a handkerchief, wiped the blood running down her face, and pressed it over the wound on her brow. The younger one was nowhere to be seen. He had already fled.

"This man tried to rape me."

"How dare this lowborn thing! Oh, I am so wronged, my lady. This bitch is framing me. You know how it is—a slave girl getting above herself, so I was only going to teach her a sharp little lesson..."

Anyone looking on could see that Roina had been moments from assault, yet the old stablehand, desperate to slip free of the moment, rattled off excuses that would not hold—that he had merely been sitting beside her, that she had tempted him first.

Mayli looked down at him with a cold face and bore down on him in a voice like frost.

"Do you find the laws of the sacred Imperial Palace amusing?"

"Wh-what?"

"It is already absurd that you would try to assault a woman and then spin an excuse too pathetic to be funny—and the excuse itself could not be thinner. No one in the Imperial Palace is beaten merely for failing to obey. Even if she had done wrong, punishment is not yours to give. That is the law of the palace."

"No... that's... but that girl is a slave..."

"I have no wish to hear it. If you do not want crimes you never committed heaped upon you, and your head off your shoulders this very moment, shut your mouth and get out of my sight."

"Y-yes!"

The man fled in a hurry. Roina sighed again.

Damn this world of ranks... Damn the ones who crawl before the strong and trample the weak... Still, I lived today because of Mayli.

"Thank you, my lady. You saved my—"

"You think I did that for your sake? Skulking alone in a place like this—of course filth like that comes sniffing after you!"

Mayli jerked her head aside and spoke with blunt irritation. Roina smiled, bitter.

"Even so, gratitude is still gratitude."

"Enough. You've ruined my appetite, you know that? I came to watch the sunset and have a picnic here, and you ruined the whole thing! It's your fault, so take responsibility!"

With that, Mayli shoved the heavy basket she had been carrying into Roina's arms. Roina stared at her, dazed, but Mayli had already turned and was walking away. It might only have been the sunset. Her ears looked faintly red.

"Hmph. Throw that trash away! I don't need it anymore!"

Roina watched the retreating back in a blank daze, then opened the basket. Inside, neatly wrapped, lay sandwiches, strawberry jam, and milk.

By the time Roina returned from reporting the two stablehands to the Imperial Palace guard, her brief rest had already slipped away.

There had been no time to eat the sandwiches Mayli had given her, so she hid them carefully in her room, changed her clothes, and came back out. A picnic in the middle of working hours—an excuse that did not hold together. Besides, the place sat near the waste yard and carried a faintly foul smell. Few people went there, and it was poorly kept. Hardly a spot a noble young lady would choose for a picnic.

She has never once looked on me kindly...

Roina thought it unwise to let vague hope take root. She would only be hurt without meaning to. Whatever Mayli had shown was likely a flicker of pity, or of curiosity—and above all, Mayli had nothing to gain by growing close to her. For Mayli's sake, if nothing else, it would be better to keep a little distance from now on.

And...

Two maids of noble birth, whispering together, shot Roina a sidelong glance as she stepped out of her quarters and let a thin sneer slip. As if her injury were satisfying. As if to ask what she thought she could possibly do about it. Or both.

I hope I'm only reading too much into this... The maids certainly have time to spare.

She muttered it even though she was a maid herself. There could be no doubt now: some vicious colleague had made her a target. Roina passed them as if nothing were wrong, and committed both faces firmly to memory.

Time slipped past without mercy, and night came again.

She hated the night. It was the hour when she had to be made a plaything once more by that beautiful, cruel man. For someone else, darkness might bring a peaceful rest. For her, it was the dark in which a person's dignity came undone.

Thud. A door closed, the sound of it heavy in the air. Roina looked toward the crown prince's bedchamber, her gaze sunk low and still.