#tuare

you did not deserve all those bad things that happened to you

"Hey!" The sunny chirp of Tuare's voice rings through the quiet kitchen.

"Oh, uh- hi!" You glance up at her and try to match her cheerful tone, but it doesn't quite measure up. If Tuare noticed, she said nothing.

"Have you seen Pestonya today? She was going to teach us to cook filet Mignon."

Your stomach flips with a wave of nausea, and your face burns with guilt.

"N-no, I haven't." It's not a lie. You haven't seen her today. But your reply tastes of deception on your tongue all the same.

In a dodgy attempt to look busy, you reach down to pick up another potato. To your horror, the hair you had strategically fluffed around your neck falls away to reveal the ghastly array bruises and bites.

A sharp gasp bursts from Tuare's lungs, and it's like a punch to your guts. You knew she would see them eventually, but you are in no state of mind to deal with it.

"What happened? Are you okay?!"

"I'm okay," The lie tumbles from your mouth to quickly to be remotely convincing. "I...I..." Completely unprepared, you stammer for an excuse.

"Lord Demiurge did this, didn't he?" She hisses.

Finally, you meet her gaze with a solemn nod.

"We should tell Sebas, he can-"

"NO. I was lucky to get out of this alive. It was my fault- I-"

"No matter what you did, this is NOT your fau-"

"I tried to steal from him and run away." You blurt out.

That stops Tuare dead in her tracks.

Your eyes shutter closed, and you lick your lips before continuing. "The doors to his quarters have jewels embedded in them. I ripped one out and was going to use it to pay my way to freedom."

"To freedom?"

You sigh. "Demiurge didn't give me a job as an assistant, like I thought he would. I'm not even his maid. I'm his pleasure slave, at best. Or as he puts it, his Pet. And when he made his true intentions clear, I wanted to run away."

"But... he can't do that to you!" Tuare looks utterly mortified. "You're a guest of-"

"Tuare... I don't have the same rights that you do here. I wasn't granted protection under Lord Ainz. Only sanctuary, and then he gave me to Demiurge. I'm- I'm property in their eyes." You swallow the lump in your throat and your grip on the peeler tightens to white-knuckled. "The one I serve isn't kind like Sebas, not anymore- I crossed him, and he can and will do with me as he pleases. If we tell Sebas, he's going to learn I tried to steal. What do you think Lord Ainz will do with me then?"

Tuare's mouth hangs open, at a loss for words.

"I never should have done what I did. He wasn't so bad until then..." You lament and drop the peeler and potato to bury your face in your hands.

"This is HIS fault, not yours!" Tuare insists, and rubs your back in a gesture of comfort. "He tricked you, and left you with little choice. Maybe Pestonya can help!"

The blood drains from your face to pool in your feet.

'FUCK.'

"Pestonya... she- she already knows." At last, you confess. "She is actually the one who offered to help me escape. But now I... I don't know where she is!" The dam finally breaks, making your voice crack.

"What if..." Shit, Pestonya may be imprisoned or worse, all because of your stupid mistake.

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'Solution, you know the Starbucks here doesn't serve baby flavoured cappuccino's.'