Chapter 1
Witches don't feel pain.
That's the common belief. That's why her ladyship had us maids fetch a whip, a short one designed for horse-riding.
Standing in front of Noa, her ladyship casually flicked the whip against her palm. A sinister smile crept across her face, as if savoring the cruelty of her next move.
Bound to the chair, Noa writhed and twisted, her body contorting in wild movements. A feral growl erupted from within. I couldn't tell if she was enraged or terrified.
She was screaming something, but I couldn't make out what it was because of the gag. With her eyes wide open and cheeks flushed, she glared at her ladyship and us maids standing by the wall.
This room was typically used as a dressing room for the maids. The walls were adorned with tri-fold mirrors, and atop the vanities lay a disarray of powder and combs.
The head butler, a city police officer, and a pastor were with us in the room.
Yet, it was almost silent. The only sound was the rattling of the chair, echoing Noa's futile struggles against her bindings.
This marked the beginning of her ladyship's unofficial witch trial.
With this whip, I shall determine whether or not you are a witch.
Witches do not feel pain. If you wish to prove your innocence, let your screams of agony be heard.
With that, she lifted the hem of Noa's maid uniform, revealing her thigh.
A scream, like that of a horse, pierced the room as the whip struck her pale skin.
She was truly in pain, that girl Noa.
It wasn't an act. The agony was real.
Her cheeks grew even more flushed and tears welled in her eyes as she cried out.
But her ladyship kept swishing the whip, over and over again.
The pastor had seen enough and seized her ladyship by the wrist.
Stop this madness at once. The wizards will arrive shortly. Let them handle the interrogation.
She shrugged off his hand and lashed out with the whip with even greater force. She always ignored advice unless it came from her husband.
Now, does it hurt? How can I tell if you don't scream properly?
I had to shut my eyes tight. I couldn't watch any longer.
I was scared, so incredibly scared. I regretted revealing Noa's secret to her ladyship. I was the only one who could have stood by that girl's side, but I let her down.
The master had bought Noa as a slave.
About two weeks prior to the witch trial, he brought her into the household. Dressed in a plain fabric gown, she was clutching a hand mirror to her chest. It was the only belonging she had.
I had always believed that slaves were disheveled and battered on a regular basis. But Noa was nothing like that.
She didn't have a single bruise on her body. Her hair was trimmed and meticulously combed.
Her doe-eyes sparkled; irises a brilliant ruby red.
And her skin was as white as fresh cream.
I learned that she had turned twelve that year. Clearly, she was a slave of high value. The master must have paid a significant sum to acquire her.
Isn't she a beauty?
The master flaunted Noa before her ladyship.
His voice was brimming with the pride of someone who had just found a rare collectible.
She's a real gem.
Her ladyship was enraged, and rightfully so. After all, the master had left to buy spices but came back with two bags of pepper and a slave.
The master ignored her obvious disapproval and decreed that Noa would serve as a maid within their household.
Soon, the rumors began. There were whispers that Noa was the master's mistress, that he bought her as a lover and smuggled her into the house under the guise of a maid. It was an unpleasant rumor, but nobody had anything nice to say about the mysterious slave girl.
To me, though, she never seemed the sort.