Conquered/Flashy Show

From All The Fallen Stories
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You'll take the indirect approach. You are still a kid after all, even if you are of a upper class. And while adults tend to not listen to kids you've learned they're more receptive to wealth and influence.

You walk out of the line of other girls, heading straight for the armored man with the quill. You get half way there before one of the guards thrusts a spear right in front of your throat.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" he barks.

The weapon in your face freaks you out a bit, but you remain undeterred. "Away from all these peasants. I deserve better treatment than them, even if I am your prisoner."

The guard looks at you a moment and balks. "You deserve better? Who are you girl? You some kind of noble? The Count's daughter perhaps?"

"I am a noble, and my daddy was just as rich as the Count," you boast. "My daddy was the wealthiest merchant in the entire city, one of the wealthiest merchants in the whole land. Even after losing everything in Rothshire, I'm still heir to my daddy's empire which has businesses all across the land."

"Is that so?" the guard says rubbing his chin. "And you wouldn't happen to have anything to prove these wild claims of fortune you're making?"

Now you balk at him, and lift up the sleeves of your outfit in response. "Do you not see these garments? These are pure silk and inlaid with wolf's fur. They cost hundreds of gold. No mere serf could ever hope to afford these even with all the money they made in their lifetime. Can you not smell the fine oils and scented herbs on my skin? Is it not obvious just by looking that I have been born to a higher station in life? The Gods have seen fit to bless me with noble blood and I deserve to be treated as such."

The guard looks at you in silence for a few moments. His gaze makes you uncomfortable and as hard as you try to stand firm you squirm a little beneath it.

"So what you're saying is, these clothes are expensive enough to be proof enough of your wealth?"

You look up at him slightly irritated and say, "Yes, that's one proof I've given you. There's also—"

"Fine," he interrupts. He then turns to the guard writing names on the parchment. "Basil, come over here!"

The guard turns from the line of little girls and walks over to the spear guard. They speak to each other out of earshot for a brief moment, before the writing guard walks over to you with a key and unlocks your shackles.

You smile proudly as the metal clamps fall from your wrists. "Hm, that's more like it. I'm glad to see there's some bit of sense among you—"

The guards then grab the hems of your silk clothes and yank them up over your head. You squirm and scream out protests as your fine clothes are stripped off your body. The other girls in line laugh at your humiliation.

"Wha-what are you doing?! Stop it! Let me go!"

The guards ignore your pleas, continuing to pull off your clothes until you're left standing in only your underwear. You try to cover yourself with your hands while simultaneously resisting the guard, but there's little you can do in the latter effort. They're bigger and stronger than you and don't care about your humiliation. You can't even stop the crowd of loathsome peasant girls from laughing at you.

"How much do you think we can sell these for?" the writing guard asks, continuing to ignore you.

"She said they're worth hundreds in gold coins," says the spear guard. "See what the fence says, we might be getting a nice bonus after all this."

You look up fuming from the ground, shivering with your arms calmed over your exposed chest. You grit your teeth and scream, "You can't do this to me! I am a noble woman! You can't—"

The spear guard slaps you in the face with his steel gauntlet. There's a ringing crack that echoes through the air as your head goes flying to the ground with a stinging pain in your cheek.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," the guard snarls at you.

Your cheek burns and your ears ring. You hold your hand over the offended cheek and cry softly. This can't stand, but the guards are so scary. In your vulnerable state you decide to...