I do it endlessly. Sometimes I am drugged before I am brought back to my cell. I always awake right below the throne. People glare. But the worst is not the kneeling, the restraints, or even the cold, but when people are invited to meet me before the king.

  The brave ones walk up the stairs, their boots scraping on the cobblestone until they stop abruptly to bow to their ruler.

  I pay them no attention but keep my eyes on their shoes as if cursing them to always lose their left sock. I never felt like such a joke in my life. Especially when dressed thoroughly in black approaches the woven throne.

  I catch a nod from the ruler to the other male, “Admiring my pet?” He asks, a pet, sounding like a curse word in my captor's mouth.

  “Not so much as your work. You've really outdone yourself this time.”

  “A reward for your keen eye,” The lord smiles and snaps his fingers once.

  I turn to look at him as servants follow his command. He has pounds of muscles over me, should I try to fight? His shoulders are twice the size of my body, and he stands over a foot taller; his eyes are dark and always locked in the dark that his angular face provides, his cheekbones flawless, his hair falling carefully over his forehead.

  Somewhere, someone from behind me lifts the rope that cuffs my hands, and I am thrown forward. I face plant into the stone and feel the immediate heat on my face from the impact. No blood drips as I crawl forward. When I’m back on my knees, I’m thrown to the ground again.

  I contemplate not getting up. What is the point of moving, of being humiliated again? I taste blood, find the source of my lip, and get up.

  I’m pushed back down to my knees, the ruler drawing my strings this time. Then my face is pressed against the shoe of the visitor.

  “Now lick,” the ruler demands.

  The room falls silent, then people mutter and talk, no doubt watching.

  “Do it,” he says, his breath on my ear.

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  I hesitate, my knees aching, a few pebbles from the unfinished ground digging into my skin as I move forward, unable to do anything else.

  “Do it,” the ruler again snaps. And even though I bow to no one, no queen, no government, I do.

  I flick my tongue out, stare at the king, and bow my head to the man's shoe. I lick once, but meet silence. I do it again, but nothing. So I do it once more, making sure to move my tongue in circles. I feel a smile tug on my lips as I spit. It comes out of my mouth long, slow, and disgusting, as I intended.

  I don’t mean to disrespect him as I do the ruler. But when I see what I can of his eyes, they somehow get darker, and I'm moving.

  I scramble as a fish does on dry land, as my leash, which he holds, drags me across the floor. I finally fall to my side, and let the skin tear all along my side and exposed knees until we reach a door.

  It’s slammed shut, and I search desperately in the dark for any means of escape. The lights come on once the door is slammed, but it blinds me.

  “Stand.” A command.

  I spit on the floor, and he grabs my chin and kneels. I shake him off immediately. He slaps me. My eyes sting with tears.

  “I’ll just be knocked down,” I tell him.

  He tightens the pressure on the rope and stands. My legs flail underneath me until I’m on my feet too.

  He pulls a long dagger hidden in his leather attire and spins me around. I fight, but he holds me still. What the fuck?

  I try again, but there is no getting away. Fear flashes through my mind, and my body fills with adrenaline, my legs already trying to run. He holds the rope tighter.

  I try to spin to break free, then again to see where the dagger is, but I’m not given any leeway. I am completely stuck.

  I search the room as it comes more into view, but it’s more of a hallway than anything. I can’t run. He waits. We wait.

  I feel a tug on my hands and arms behind me, then the rope drops to the floor. I try to run again, but he holds me still and waits.

  My heartbeat rushes ahead, but I do not move to escape. And my hands are released.

  He walks ahead of me without a word.

  I turn back toward where we came from. The door is shut. I run to it and try it, but a bolt clicks into place. I look behind me, and the king stands still, his back to me, and resumes walking.

  I throw my body weight at the door, then try to tug it open, but it’s locked on the outside. Without knowing what I am doing, I turn away from the door and follow the ruler down the hallway.

  He waits ahead of me as I try every door that we come across. The last one, I only tug once and walk forward again.

  We come to a more open area, and I look around for any more places to escape, but there are only locked doors.

  I slam my back into the wall, unable to go a step more, and sob. I am being broken like an animal.