Two days. It had taken two days for their shambling prison to cart them across the countryside. The guards had been [i]courteous[/i] enough to toss enough stale bread and putrid water to keep their wards alive, and yet even so the Gorman prisoners were in a pitiful state. Twice the prisoners had attempted some form of conversation to pass the long journey. Both incidents resulted in additional discoloration on their skin. Rhea didn't even recognize her fellow captives. 

When she could finally hear the bustling masses as their caravan entered the city, Rhea's stomach turned. Despite her mind telling her to keep her eyes averted, she couldn't help but look with disgust into the crowds. Where she'd hoped to find even one face offering pity, she only found round cheering faces pressing in to get a closer look, each hooting and hollering. Women giggled behind feathered fans, while the men with round faces pressed to look closer, licking their lips as though looking upon a feast. It made Rhea's skin crawl. 

She finally looked away as the carriage slowed, her gaze locking to the ropes bound around her wrists. She didn't even bother struggling as she was hauled to her feet and towards the stage. She knew their were guards and prying eyes in every direction; any attempt to fight would be useless. One by one the announcer gleefully sold off the lives of the people around her. Her gut again twisted when the sobbing woman she'd sat beside during most of their journey was hauled off to a heavyset man with grey hair. Part of her hoped as time went on that she would be left without a buyer, perhaps given the mercy of a quick hanging instead.

Rhea mentally cursed to herself. No. Getting home to her brothers was her only priority. 

When she was the last to stand on the stage, a smaller man pushed his way through the animated crowds, but she could hardly bring herself to pay attention. So he was her [i]owner[/i]. Her eyes darkly surveyed the bag of gold supposedly meant for her. At least she was apparently worth a pretty penny, she thought bitterly to herself. A brief hope shined when she thought of escaping once left alone with the man, but the knight's company quickly squashed that thought -- 

She stopped, her mind catching up to the situation. Did the man say the king?

Rhea swallowed hard as the pair led her to another carriage, one much finer and marked with emblem she had come to despise, the emblem of a man that had terrorized her people far before she had even been born. She swore she could taste poison on her dry tongue. Perhaps her thoughts began mirroring onto her face, for the knight's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword where it rested at his side.

Her mind was a blur as they made their way to the castle, until she was finally dragged out of the carriage once more. When she looked upon the king, her skin felt as though it turned to ice. He looked her up and down as they approached, as casually as though choosing his morning's bread. She had to purse her cracked lips to silence herself when he gave his approval, sending her off to whatever bastard son he'd bought her for without a second glance. 

The pudgy man reached out for her arm to lead her away once they were again alone, but Rhea yanked her tied wrists away, glaring icily at the short man. "Do not touch me," she spat venomously. Running had yet to be an option and her insubordination would have led to a beating with any of the guards; but at least she could take out her resentment on this stubby man as all he could do was furrow his brow indignantly. Making sure she followed, Esben began making his way down the grand hallway.

"Such crude behavior won't be tolerated, you know. Now that you're here, you must begin to adapt to life in the castle," Esben began to chat busily. "You shall address the regent prince as 'Your Highness' or 'Your Grace', nothing less. Do not maintain eye contact with any of the royal family. You may only speak when spoken to, of course. When entering a room, you must--" 

The man continued on dutifully, glancing to the side every now and again to ensure she was still there. Rhea only somewhat listened as he prattled, trying to memorize the hallways as best she could, trying to find any direct routes back into the courtyard, where maybe she could --

"And here we are," Esben finally announced, stopping in front of a large oak door. The man nervously knocked. "Your Highness? I have brought a gift from your father."