Xira POV
The distance from the guest wing to the main hall felt like a journey of a thousand miles, each step a heavy, agonizing toll on my sanity.
My legs were shaking so much that I feared I would simply collapse, my knees buckling under the light weight of the violet silk that draped over my frame.
I had never worn something as undignified or as humiliating as the scrap of clothing I had been forced into.
It was a masterpiece of cruelty, designed by Cassia to showcase exactly what I was: a high-priced slave.
The corset was so tight it felt like a cage for my lungs, and the way the fabric clung to my hips made me feel naked despite the layers of finery.
Every movement I made had the fabric floating and threatening to reveal all that lay underneath.
"Walk," Cassia whispered behind me, her voice a sharp prod. "And remember the boy."
