My lost luna

The attic was colder than ever that night. The winter wind howled through cracks in the roof, and snow piled against the Sebastian mansion in heavy drifts. Amanda huddled under her thin blanket, her breath forming clouds in the freezing air. Sleep did not come.

Her mind kept replaying the words she had overheard from Mrs. Sebastian's lips the day before. The merchant has offered gold for her hand.

They were going to sell her.

Amanda pressed her fists to her chest as if to keep her heart from breaking. She wanted to scream, to run, to fight, but where could she go? Beyond the walls of the mansion stretched miles of forest, dark and unforgiving. She had been told all her life that rogues prowled those woods, waiting to tear apart anyone foolish enough to wander.

But as she stared at the cracked ceiling above her bed, she thought bitterly that even rogues could not be crueler than the family she lived with.

Morning came with no warmth. Angela's voice was the first sound Amanda heard. The attic door burst open, and Angela strode in, her silk gown brushing against the dusty floor.

"Get up, slave," she sneered. "Mother says the house must shine today. We have important guests."

Amanda's stomach tightened. "Guests?" she asked softly.

Angela smirked, her eyes glinting with malice. "Yes. Men. Wealthy ones. And you had better make yourself useful. Who knows? Maybe they will take you away."

Her laughter rang out like a cruel melody as she turned on her heel and slammed the door.

Amanda sat still for a long moment, her heart thudding painfully. So it was true. She was nothing but a bargain to be traded for gold.

She washed her face in a cracked basin, the water icy against her skin. With her fingers, she combed through her tangled curls, trying to tame them, though no matter how hard she tried, she still looked pale and weary.

When she caught her reflection in the small shard of mirror leaning against the wall, her heart clenched. She saw her mother's amber eyes staring back at her. The memory gave her a thin thread of courage.

"I will survive," she whispered.

The mansion transformed as the day stretched forward. Chandeliers blazed with light, and carpets were beaten until they gleamed. Amanda scrubbed and polished, her small body moving through endless tasks under Mrs. Sebastian's sharp commands. By evening, her arms ached, and her back throbbed.

Then the guests arrived.

Amanda balanced a tray of wine goblets when the heavy doors opened. The merchant entered first. His belly pushed against his fine coat, and sweat beaded on his brow. His greedy eyes swept the room before landing squarely on Amanda. A slow, sickening smile spread across his face.

Amanda's skin crawled.

Behind him came two associates, equally well-fed, equally smug. Their laughter filled the hall, echoing against the golden walls.

"Ah, Mrs. Sebastian," the merchant boomed, his voice full of self-importance. "You promised me something rare. Something untouched."

Amanda's blood ran cold.

Mrs. Sebastian stepped forward, her smile sharp and false. She gestured toward Amanda as though presenting a fine piece of furniture. "There she is. Young, obedient, hardworking. She will make a fine bride."

Amanda's grip faltered, and the tray nearly slipped from her hands. Her knees trembled, but Mrs. Sebastian's cutting glare forced her still.

The merchant waddled closer, his hand reaching for her chin. Amanda instinctively flinched back, but Mrs. Sebastian snapped, "Stand still, girl."

Amanda obeyed, though her entire body shook. The merchant's thick fingers lifted her face, his touch lingering. His grin widened, revealing yellow teeth.

"Yes," he murmured. "Perfect. How soon can she be mine?"

Amanda's stomach churned.

The evening dragged into torment. Amanda moved like a shadow, serving food and wine, while the merchant's eyes followed her every step. She felt trapped in his gaze, like a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

When the last guest left, Amanda's fragile hope that the nightmare was over shattered.

Mrs. Sebastian cornered her in the kitchen, her jeweled hand striking across Amanda's face so hard her lip split.

"You will not embarrass us," she hissed, her breath reeking of wine. "Tomorrow you will be prepared. Do you understand?"

Amanda's head bowed, tears stinging her eyes, but she nodded quickly. She had learned long ago that resistance only brought worse punishment.

Angela appeared in the doorway, her grin sharp as a blade. "I will help dress her. I want to see her dragged away."

Mother and daughter laughed together, their cruelty echoing in the empty room.

When they left, Amanda crumpled against the counter, silent sobs shaking her small frame. She touched her swollen lip, whispering, "Mama... Papa... please help me."

That night, she could not bear the suffocating attic. She slipped outside barefoot into the snow. The cold stung her skin, but it felt strangely cleansing after the filth of the day.

She wandered into the garden, her eyes fixed on the sky. Above, the moon shone full and bright, bathing the world in silver light.

Amanda clasped her hands together, her breath misting in the icy air. "Please," she whispered to the heavens. "Do not let them take me. I cannot live like this anymore. Someone, please hear me."

For a moment, the wind stirred, rustling the trees as though answering. Amanda closed her eyes and imagined her parents beyond the stars, watching.

But when she returned inside, she was still alone.

Morning came with cruelty sharper than the cold. Angela stormed into the attic, yanking Amanda from her thin mattress. "Come on, little prize," she mocked. "It is time to make you pretty for your fat husband."

Amanda's heart pounded. "No... please..."

Angela slapped her hard. "Silence. You should be grateful. No one else would ever want you."

She forced Amanda into a gown, one of her own old dresses. It was too tight, the seams biting into Amanda's ribs. Angela yanked Amanda's curls into a painful knot and smeared rouge across her cheeks until she hardly recognized herself.

"There," Angela sneered, shoving Amanda toward the mirror. "Almost decent."

Amanda stared at her reflection. The frightened girl staring back looked like a stranger.

Downstairs, the merchant was waiting at the long table. A contract lay spread before him, and beside it a chest of gold gleamed in the light. Mr. Sebastian stood proudly at his side, already imagining the wealth.

Mrs. Sebastian motioned toward Amanda. "Bring her forward."

Amanda's feet felt like stone. Each step toward that table felt like walking deeper into a grave.

The merchant licked his lips, his hand reaching out as though to claim her.

Amanda's soul screamed.

Her eyes darted to the tall windows. Beyond them, the forest loomed dark and endless. A place of danger, yes, but also of freedom.

In that moment, she made her choice.