"Are you sure this will work?" Theresa asked.
"Trust me, I'm an experienced woman," Janette assured her with a nod. "I've used it myself."
"You have?"
"Yes, I have, Reddy. Stick with me, and you'll learn a lot," she said with a proud smile, clearly pleased with how well she had survived in this place.
Theresa, still hesitant, asked, "I won't get caught, will I?"
Janette spared her a glance, scanning her from head to toe. "You'll only get caught if you're a bad actress. And if you do—" she leaned in with a cunning smile, "I'll leave your sinking ship."
Theresa bit back her response and quickly hid the bottle Janette had given her as a guard approached their cell.
"Time for your bath," the guard said, unlocking their cell.
"How are you, Ben?" Janette said to the guard, who didn't look as intimidating as the others. Though not as bulky, his toned frame suited him, but his hard gaze made it clear he was well-trained.
"I've been doing well," he answered. "How about you? I hope she isn't giving you a hard time," he added, directing his last words at Theresa, who shifted uncomfortably under his stare.
Janette laughed, draping an arm around her cellmate's shoulders. "She isn't. We were busy bonding before you came, isn't that right, Reddy?"
Theresa shot a slight glare at her cell mate both for the nickname and for putting her in the spotlight. Just yesterday, Janette had told her she would stand out easily because of her hair. Yet here she was, making sure of it herself, as if shoving her in front of a moving carriage.
Janette, on the other hand, glanced at the guard named Ben, whose eyes hadn't left her cellmate. A knowing smile played on her lips. It was undeniably true that Theresa was beautiful, the first thing she had noticed when she took her time to examine her yesterday. Though her eyes subtly narrowed at the sight of competition, she brushed it off, too excited about the drama that was bound to unfold.
"She's Thompson's."
The guard's eyes snapped to Janette, who smirked knowingly.
"So I've heard."
"But I won't tell." She mimed zipping her lips shut.
The man's lips curved into a grin. "That's why you're my favorite, Jane." He gave one last glance at the red-haired beauty before strolling away.
"What was that about?" Theresa questioned once the guard was out of sight.
Janette shrugged. "Just managing one of your admirers."
A sigh escaped Theresa's lips as she stood up, already tired of her supposed cellmate. She stopped just before stepping out of the cell and turned to Janette, who still sat comfortably. "Aren't you going for the bath?"
"Royals like me don't use that local bath," she stated. "You can join me if you want."
Theresa looked outside their cell, then back at Janette. Without giving it too much thought, she stepped back inside, deciding it was safer to stick with someone who knew her way around.
"You seem comfortable with life here," she spoke up. "You're familiar with the guards, and you know your way around. Don't you have at least a little hope of leaving?"
Silence followed Theresa's words, gracing their ears with its tender and quiet presence. She glanced at her cellmate, who for once wasn't wearing her usual sly and annoying expression but instead looked thoughtful.
"Why don't we make a bargain? We'll share our sad stories, but I'll only tell mine if yours is sad enough. Deal?"
Theresa sighed, giving it some thought before nodding in agreement. Perhaps clearing her mind would lift some of the weight off her shoulders.
"It all happened yesterday morning," she began, her mind drifting to the memory that still felt as clear as day. "My townsfolk suddenly accused me of being a witch and decided to sell me off. I felt betrayed because, not too long before that, I had greeted most of them with smiles—only for them to turn their backs on me."
Janette, who seemed intrigued by the simple story—one that hinted at something deeper—asked, "Why do you think they suddenly decided to lower your status to that of a slave?"
"It has to be Mr. Johnson." Her fists clenched. "Just a few days ago, he threatened to ruin me because I refused to give in to his unlawful demands. But to think he would go this far..."
Janette reached out, patting her cellmate's shoulder. "People will go to great lengths to get what they want."
"But I don't think he'd let me off the hook so easily," Theresa muttered. "He took his time spreading rumors, claiming I was his woman and chasing away potential suitors for years. He wouldn't have done all that just to sell me off."
Theresa had turned this over in her mind countless times during the journey here. She had known Mr. Johnson for a long time, and one thing she was certain of was his so-called feelings for her. He wouldn't go through all this trouble just to sell her off because she rejected him yet again, he definitely had something up his sleeve.
Fear settled deep in her chest as she thought about whatever sinister plans he might be harboring. Before, she had a choice. But now, when she was about to be reduced to a slave—her life belonging to whoever held her leash—she dreaded that the world would be even crueler than it had already been.
Her breath hitched as a guard approached their cell. A chilling thought gripped her.
Was he here to brand her?
"Jane," the guard called out. "Your bath is ready."
"Is that so?" Janette stood up as the guard took his leave after delivering his message. She turned to her cellmate, who still seemed lost in thought. "Aren't you coming?"
Theresa's eyes snapped to Jane's, finding her watching with a questioning look. "Oh... right. Yes." Standing from where she sat, she made her way to the cell's entrance before pausing. "Where are we going?"
"Janette chuckled at her cellmate's dazed state. Walking up to her, she answered, "To live like royals."