Obedience Can be Defiant

-The Cartagan Orchard. Mid afternoon, 2 DSTR-

Cordelia felt the gaze of an individual upon her, yet she refused to look up from her station. Subconsciously, she recognized the feeling in her stomach to be the one that was summoned when Tyreth looked upon her. As she picked up a rotten apple, a worm peeking out from the side, she tossed it towards the basket with a twisted look of disgust unsettling her features. Just as quickly as she shivered at the thought of biting into such an apple, she heard it being pulled from mid-flight. Looking up at the figure beneath the brim of her hat, she flinched at the apple being flung back at her. Cringing away from such filth, she looked down at her coated knee with an immediate flash of anger. Glaring up at the figure, she yanked off her hat as if in preparation of a verbal sparring- until he spoke.

"Your previous Master may have been lenient, but I am not. You do not leave until expressly dismissed. Do you understand? Do it again and you will receive five lashings. Now, get up and come with me. I have business to attend to and it says in your file that you can write. Now, come!"

Pulling the hat to her chest, she glared upwards at him with her nose scrunched up in protest. Cordelia’s heart began to hammer, as if she were about to full throttle into objection. Five lashings? I’ll show you five lashings. What a bastard! Filthy, no good, spoiled, piece of- “Yes Master,” she cooed.

Standing upright, she gave a pleasant smile, and bowed her head. Adjusting her hat into its proper place, she smoothed the front of her dress with dignity, and bent over slightly to wipe off the dirt on her knees. Flinging her fingers down at the juices and pieces of rotten apple on her knee, she flicked the sour chunks downwards at the ground, and slightly towards Tyreth’s boot. Cordelia found pleasure in the one small chunk that sat proudly on the tip of his boot.

Looking back up at him, but not making eye contact, Cordelia breathed in a slow and steady breath. Her chest rose with her, and fell all the same. Though she remained cool tempered and obedient on the surface, her concealed breast beat red in anger. You speak of my previous master as if he were not your closest kin! Just as disgusting as he was! Thank God he died in misery. Scum. “I am at your disposal," she paused in her speech to look into his eyes before finishing, "Master.” She prayed that the heat would not spread to her collarbone or neck. Folding her hands neatly, and holding a straight posture with a soft look in her eye, she awaited to follow suit in his steps.

Dropping her eyes from him, towards the ground, her heart began to beat faster. Every gesture towards him, though sly and mischievous, was undoubtedly defiant. If her father saw the way she acted towards him, her entire body would be black and blue by now.