After being transported to a historical world, I became the lowest of the servants. Every day was a blur of the heaviest, most grueling chores, punctuated by the mistress’s verbal abuse and the sting of her whip. After three years, not a single piece of my skin was left unscathed. Until one day, as I dragged my battered body to the well for water, I overheard two other servants whispering behind the rockery. “Does that one in there really think she time-traveled? It’s brutal, what they’re doing to her.” “Serves her right for crossing Ms. Vivian. You know she’s the apple of Mr. Warburton’s eye.” “I heard Mr. Warburton built this entire historical estate just to appease Ms. Vivian. Hired all of us actors to play along, and made that woman a servant to atone for her sins.” The wooden bucket crashed from my hands, icy water flooding over my feet. That evening, the lord of the manor—who had supposedly been away in the capital for three years—finally returned. The “mistress,” Vivian, flew into his arms. I knelt with the other servants, my eyes meeting the face of the man who looked identical to my husband. I whispered his name. “Adrian Warburton. It’s been a long time.” 1 “Adrian Warburton. It’s been a long time.” The words hung in the air, and the courtyard fell into a dead silence. The man Vivian had thrown herself at—the man with my husband’s face—went rigid. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, there and gone in an instant, before his hand instinctively went up to touch his nose. It was a nervous habit Adrian always had when he was lying. It really was him. Vivian was the first to react. Her voice trembled, but she fought to keep the charade alive. “My lord! This wretched servant has gone mad! How dare she speak your name!” So, who was this Vivian? Adrian’s mistress? I watched her over-the-top performance, then turned my gaze back to Adrian. He avoided my eyes, his voice a blade of ice. “Insolent nonsense, offending your masters. Drag her away. Twenty lashes.” The order was given with a sharp, rushed urgency, as if trying to cover something up. Two “guards” instantly seized my arms. The rough hemp ropes bit into the unhealed wounds on my wrists, a familiar, dull ache. But this time, the pain in my arms was nothing compared to the ice forming in my heart. I didn’t struggle. I just stared at him. I watched the man I once thought I would spend my life with, personally ordering my punishment to please another woman. I was forced to my knees, and the whip cracked against my back. “Ugh…” A choked gasp escaped me as fiery pain exploded across my skin, nearly making me pass out. But I bit down on my lip, refusing to beg for mercy as I had for the past three years. Instead, a cold, bitter laugh forced its way through my clenched teeth. For three years, in this meticulously constructed historical prison, I had endured every kind of torment from my “mistress,” Vivian. Whippings, starvation, forced kneeling, washing clothes in ice water during the dead of winter… I had genuinely believed I was just unlucky, that I had been transported into the body of a lowly servant and had to accept my fate. I had even spent countless nights praying that the Adrian in my own time was safe and happy, that he could forget me and find someone new to love. Ha. How utterly ridiculous. The whip fell again and again, the pain making my whole body tremble. I lifted my head and looked at the perfect couple. Adrian had his arm around Vivian’s waist, whispering in her ear with an air of intimacy. When his eyes met my pleading gaze, he quickly looked away. Of course. How could he not know what my life had been like for three years? How could I have held onto even a shred of hope? Vivian nestled against him, a faint, cruel smile on her lips. When she looked at me, her eyes were filled with undisguised malice and provocation. The surrounding “servants” began their performance. “The master and mistress are a match made in heaven!” “Indeed, indeed! A divine couple, the envy of all!” Vivian’s voice was sickly sweet. “Rewards! Rewards for everyone!” Look at them. So perfectly matched, so deeply in love. And I was just the tragic fool in their script, the dirt beneath their feet, meant to be tortured to death to elevate their love story. Adrian seemed pleased by the atmosphere. “Why are you so happy today?” he asked softly. Vivian immediately shot me a look, her voice a poisonous blend of grievance and spite. “You don’t know, my love, but this Juliet is the most disobedient of them all. She constantly talks back to me, causing me such distress. Now that you’ve returned, you must stand up for me.” To hate me so much, yet never forget her role… she was truly method acting. Disgusting. Utterly disgusting. Adrian’s gaze finally fell on me. “Oh? She dares to anger my lady?” His tone was light, casual. “In that case, another twenty lashes. Beat her until she learns her place.” Forty lashes in total. A careless sentence for him, but for me, it could mean a month unable to leave my bed. The last, faint ember of hope was extinguished. The whip struck again, pain devouring my consciousness. Their smiling faces blurred, fading into darkness until I finally closed my eyes and saw nothing more. … A bucket of ice water splashed over my face. The sharp, stinging pain forced my eyes open. The first thing I saw was the back of the two of them, walking hand in hand into their chambers. Tears mixed with blood and cold water streamed down my face. But this time, I wasn't crying from the pain. I was crying for the person I had been, trampled and broken for three years. Confront them? Question them? No. That would only make their little play more entertaining. Adrian Warburton. Vivian. You stole three years of my life with your elaborate lie, grinding me into the mud. From this day forward, the Juliet who could love, feel pain, and beg for mercy died under those forty lashes. The one who survived has only one thought— Escape. Escape this hell you so carefully prepared for me, at any cost. And then, for myself, live. 2 After the forty lashes, I was thrown into the woodshed. I collapsed onto a pile of straw, too weak to move, listening to the rats scurrying nearby. Suddenly, the wooden door creaked open. A tall figure stepped inside, silhouetted against the dim light of the corridor. It was Adrian. He stood over me, his face mostly hidden in shadow, his expression unreadable. “You’re hurt that badly?” His voice held a note of surprise, as if he were just a casual passerby. “This healing salve is quite effective. You should use it.” A small, cool porcelain jar landed on the straw beside me. I kept my eyes closed. I didn’t move. Not even an eyelash flickered. He paused, then his tone became lecturing. “Behave yourself from now on. Serve the mistress well and don’t provoke her again. You’ll suffer less for it.” When I still didn’t react, he actually bent down, his hand reaching to lift the tattered fabric of my clothes. “Is the wound on your back? Let me help you…” The moment his fingertips brushed my sleeve, I summoned every ounce of strength I had and recoiled, my voice a raw, broken whisper. “It would be… improper… This servant dares not trouble… my lord.” Adrian’s hand froze in mid-air. I slowly lifted my head and, for the first time in this “world,” I looked him directly in the eyes, with nothing held back. There was no pleading, no shock, no lingering affection. Only a flat, chilling emptiness. Perhaps my gaze was too direct. Adrian’s expression darkened instantly. “Insolent fool!” He flung his sleeve, striking me across the face with the back of his hand, and then smashed the delicate medicine jar on the ground. “If you’re so tough, then you can tough it out! Someone get in here, bandage her wounds, and then take her to the main courtyard to serve for the night!” He stormed out, leaving a stone-faced “servant” to dab some ointment on me. Then, I was taken to their chambers in the main courtyard. By the time I arrived, Adrian and Vivian had already bathed and were sitting on the edge of the bed in their nightclothes. “You will stand vigil tonight,” Adrian announced, his voice calm once more. Vivian snuggled against him, a sultry smile on her lips. She shot me a disdainful glance. “My love, with her standing guard outside, I’ll sleep much more soundly.” I lowered my head and silently walked to my designated spot. The bed curtains were drawn, hiding their entwined figures but not the sounds of carefully suppressed laughter and moans that soon followed. Those sounds flayed what was left of my dignity. I was forced to listen to the man I loved be intimate with another woman, every shared memory we once had now feeling like a cruel joke. My nails dug into my palms, the sharp pain the only thing keeping me from shattering completely. I stood there all night. I listened as their passion faded into the steady rhythm of sleep. The wounds on my back throbbed with a pain that seemed to seep into my bones, and my legs grew numb, losing all feeling. Just as the sky began to lighten, Vivian’s lazy voice drifted from behind the curtain. “You may leave, servant.” I dragged my numb legs and walked out, step by agonizing step. The “actors” hadn’t started their day yet, so the courtyard was quiet. I remembered a place in this estate that we were forbidden to approach. The other “servants” had told me it was the master’s private sanctuary, and anyone who went near would be beaten to death. Now, I wondered if it was the only flaw in this Truman Show-like world, a place where I might find a clue to the outside. My pace quickened. Just as I suspected, in a corner of the forbidden area, hidden among overgrown weeds, I found several cigarette butts, soaked by the rain and nearly invisible. Cigarettes. That meant I was close to the real world. The exit had to be nearby. My heart, which had been dead and still in the abyss of despair, for the first time, gave a violent throb. 3 In the days that followed, the “night vigil” became a routine torture. The deliberate sounds from behind the curtain, the wounds on my back scabbing over only to split open again. A numb, relentless pain. Then, one afternoon, Adrian returned with a small, dirty puppy. “Found him on the road. He looked pathetic,” he said, casually setting the dog on the ground. That dog… it was Buddy! The dog Adrian and I had raised for five years! He was thinner, his coat dull, but I would never mistake those eyes. Buddy yelped with excitement, squirming out of Adrian’s grasp and stumbling toward me, nuzzling me with his wet nose. Adrian watched, a faint smile playing on his lips, but his tone was flat. “It seems this animal has taken a liking to you. In that case, you can be responsible for him.” What was this? Was this his way of giving me just enough hope to keep me going, so their little play could continue? Whatever his reason, Buddy’s arrival was a sliver of light in my numb existence. He would lie quietly at my feet as I tended to my wounds, licking my fingers with his warm tongue. When I woke from nightmares in the middle of the night, he would jump into my arms, calming me. He was the only real warmth in this endless suffering. I thought that with Adrian’s implicit permission, Vivian would leave Buddy and me alone. I was wrong. A few days later, she found an excuse, claiming that my "resentful glare" while cleaning revealed a "treacherous heart." She had me tied to a tree in the courtyard and whipped in front of everyone. The whip landed on old wounds. I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound. I was used to this charade. I just had to endure it. But this time, Buddy shot out and bit the hem of Vivian’s dress. “Aaaah!” she shrieked dramatically. “You animal!” Adrian’s face contorted with rage. He grabbed a thick wooden stick from nearby and, without a moment’s hesitation, swung it at Buddy. A single, short yelp. Buddy’s small body was thrown through the air, landing in a heap on the ground. He convulsed for a moment, then lay still. “Kill it! Drag this mad dog away and kill it!” Vivian cried, collapsing into Adrian’s arms. “I’ve had a terrible fright. A bowl of dog stew will be just the thing to calm my nerves!” “No… please, no!” The words tore from my throat, a desperate, broken scream from someone who had never begged for herself. “My lady! I beg you! Spare him! He didn’t know any better! Hit me instead! Give me a hundred lashes! Just please, don’t kill him! Please!” I struggled against the ropes, which cut deeper into my flesh, blood trickling down my arms. I looked at Adrian, my eyes filled with a plea I had never shown before. “Master… I’m begging you… he’s just a dog…” Five years. Buddy had been with us for five years. Didn’t Adrian feel even a flicker of pity? But… “It disturbed the mistress. It deserves to die.” He spoke the words with chilling indifference. Then, as I watched in disbelief, he personally took the guard’s sword. The blade rose. And fell. A few drops of warm blood splattered my face. The world went gray. All sound faded. All that was left was that blinding splash of red. But Vivian wasn’t satisfied. “My love,” she cooed, “isn’t this wretched servant heartbroken over her little pet? Then let her have a taste of it! Tonight, bring her a bowl of its meat, and make sure she eats every bite!” That night, a bowl of stewed meat was placed before me. “Eat up. If you don’t, the mistress will find new ways to punish you.” I stared at the bowl. My heart felt like it had turned to stone. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I picked up the bowl and forced the meat down my throat. A violent wave of nausea surged through me, and I threw it all up. The “guard” grunted in disgust, locked the door, and left to report my compliance. I sat at the table, my eyes a vast, empty expanse. I have to find the exit. Now. I cannot stay in this hell for one second longer. 4 The constant torment of the past few days had drained my last reserves of strength. My vision would frequently tunnel, and my legs felt like they were walking on cotton. At noon, I forced myself to stay upright as I served the “master” and “mistress” their meal. Vivian was deliberately making things difficult, complaining one moment that the soup was too hot, the next that the dish was too bland, ordering me around in circles. As I picked up the soup tureen again, a wave of dizziness washed over me. My hand trembled. “Aah!” Vivian screamed as if she’d been scalded by hot oil. “My lord! She did it on purpose! She despises me and wants to ruin my face!” Adrian’s expression changed in an instant. He pulled Vivian behind him. “Useless! You can’t even do a simple task like this! What are you plotting!” “I… I didn’t…” I whispered, my voice trembling with exhaustion and fear. The hot soup had spilled mostly on my own hand, which was now throbbing with a burning pain. “You didn’t?” Vivian sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “My love, look at her! Look at the hatred in her eyes! Today she throws soup, tomorrow she’ll use poison! We cannot let such a menace remain in this house!” She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. “My love, if you truly care for me, you’ll put her in her place and punish her properly!” Adrian’s brow was furrowed. He patted her back comfortingly, but his eyes were on my ashen face, his tone unreadable. “How do you wish to deal with her?” Vivian’s crying stopped. A truly venomous smile curled her lips as she said, her voice a light whisper, “I think she’s too wild, perhaps because she has no one to answer to. Why don’t you, my lord, decree that she be given to Old Fitz, the lame stable hand in the back courtyard? Once she has a husband to discipline her, she might finally learn to settle down and do her work without these improper thoughts.” The words exploded in my head. No! Absolutely not! I snapped my head up to look at Adrian, my eyes flooding with tears. I nearly fell to my knees. “Master… no… I beg you… I was wrong… punish me however you want… please, just don’t…” I was begging him. Begging the man who had orchestrated all my suffering. Begging him for a shred of mercy that he probably no longer possessed. Adrian’s gaze met mine. He saw the absolute despair, the utter brokenness in my eyes. His throat moved, his expression complex, and for a split second, I saw a flicker of hesitation. But that flicker was instantly shattered by Vivian’s soft, cloying, “My love~” He looked away. “As my lady wishes. Drag her away, and have them wed today!”
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