I ran to the store, picked up some food because I wanted to cook for Peg, and a bottle of wine. As I selected the wine I struggled over the choice, I...wanted this to be perfect. I picked one, then put it back, then selected another. An older woman, a store employee, stepped my way, “Having trouble making a selection?” She asked as she put her hand on my forearm.Her touch was kind, almost motherly, and I calmed down. I realized I had been stressing over a perfect wine, it wasn’t the wine, it. No more sleeping in cramped quarters with five other slave girls. No more tepid, tasteless meals. No whippings. The Queen's slave-girl lived in the Queen's quarters, sleeping at the foot of her bed. She ate well, could take regular baths, could wear more than the tiny loin flaps the other girls wore, and had the privilege of being Anira's personal attendant. All she had to do in return was to please the Queen any way the Queen wanted to be pleased. It was an easy trade.To win such a privilege,. More

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