A Fearsome Beast

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•H/L: Hair Length
•L/N: Last Name
•Y/N: Your Name

Your POV:
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After the soldier releases me, I bring a hand to where he held and lightly massage the large bruise formed by his hand. I didn't expect him to be gentle, but using this much force was just unnecessary. I'm doing this willingly, after all. I'm not even given any time to take in my surroundings before I'm pushed into a large cell with metal bars. The door is slammed shut behind me, and I couldn't help but glare at the man for being so rough as he walks away.

Seems he didn't even notice the look, which is probably a for the best. I look away, bringing my attention to the others in the cage. They are all girls between the ages of fourteen to mid twenties by the looks of it, and were probably bought or hired as servants for the King's large palace. They speak amongst themselves, seeking comfort from those around them, while I just stand and observe, unsure of what I'm supposed to do. I walk over to the corner of the massive cell composed of stone and sit.

The door isn't locked, and, yet, I feel like I've been imprisoned because of the thick bars and the armored guard watching us closely with a disturbing look on his face. He never looked my way, but it was clear he was having perverse thoughts about some of the others, and I found that disgusting. A few minutes pass with me keeping my attention on the suspicious guard before a group of women wearing emerald green and white dresses approach the cell. Their waists are all tightly bound in corsets, and their long skirts cover black, low-heel shoes. Brown, leather straps bind the lower sleeves, allowing white, ruffled fabric to be seen.

"We can take it from here, Landren," claims the older woman in front of the line, who speaks in a strict voice, breaking the guard out of his staring session. The man silently leaves, much to my relief, before the newcomers enter the cell, gaining everyone's attention.

"Greetings to you all. My name is Margery Perkins, and the ladies standing behind me are here to help you get settled into your new environment. We must ask that you remove your current clothing so that you can be bathed. They will be taken and incinerated, while you receive your new garments. You will each get a uniform, two nightgowns, and a set of underclothes. After you've been cleansed, wait for further instructions."

The anxious women around me seem hesitant to do what Miss Perkins had commanded, likely not feeling comfortable undressing in front of other people. I too felt uncomfortable as I took off my nightclothes, but I at least had a bit of an advantage being in the corner behind most of the girls. Each of the women in green dresses come forth to choose a person to wash, all carrying a washcloth, a bucket of soapy water, and a dry towel. The one assigned to me is older, I'd say nearly thirty in age, and she avoids eye contact with me as she softly takes my wrist into her calloused hand, the hands of a hard worker.

I remain silent as she rubs me down somewhat harshly with the washcloth and think only of my family. I can't let them down. I will clear their debts, and I will return to them as soon as this is all over. I snap out of it when the water in the washer's bucket is poured over my head. The liquid was only faintly warm and made me shiver some as I wring out my H/L hair. The blonde passes me the towel that had previously been draped over her shoulder so that I could dry off, and once I'm done, I wrap it around my naked body with great relief, happy to be covered up again.

"Line up with the rest for your clothes," says the woman in a meek voice while still avoiding my gaze as she gestures to a group of girls dressed only in their white towels. I give a curt nod before walking off, being mindful off the cold, wet floor so that I don't slip. Margery gifts each of us with our new belongings, and after receiving mine, I put on the undergarments and a white, long-sleeved nightgown that reaches down to my feet. The material is so light, it almost feels as though I'm wearing nothing at all, but it makes for some comfortable sleepwear.

I also slide on a pair of knee-high socks to separate my feet from the stone floor and find them to be quite cozy and soft. While I wait, I have a look at my uniform and am surprised by the nice quality of the navy blue dress I was given, though, I suppose his majesty would prefer his staff's appearance to be refined as a statement of status or to flaunt his immense wealth. The outfit consists of a white underdress with long, slightly puffy sleeves, a navy blue, corseted skirt that starts below my chest and ends at my ankles, white stockings and black flats.  I was also given a white ribbon meant for hair, but I tie it around my wrist for now to avoid losing it. I never really wore anything this nice before. Things like this would get ruined quickly on a farm, but I suppose I won't be dealing with what I'm used to. I raise my head when Miss Perkins claps her hands to gain everyone's attention and find that all the women are now dressed and cleaned.

"Now, if you'll all follow me, I'll take you to the dormitories." The woman turns on her heal and marches out into the hall, the rest of us following like clueless, little ducklings following their mother until we reach a door. Margery opens it to show us a simple space with white walls and wooden floors. There are small windows that don't look like they can't be opened shedding moonlight into the already well lit room filled with a few rows of metal beds with spring mattresses covered in cream sheets with a single blanket and pillow on top of them. Sitting at the foot of each bed is a wooden chest, which I imagine is meant for our belongings.

"These will be your living quarters from now on. I suggest you get used to them. His majesty has been generous to give you this much. Remember, you are his servants. You must mind your manners, never speak out of turn, and I highly suggest that you don't complain. The King can be aggravated easily, so it's best if you just stay out of his way. Get a good night's rest, ladies. You will be woken at five A.M. sharp before being given thirty minutes to dress and eat breakfast. You will then be assigned your tasks for the day. I bid you goodnight." With that, Margery and the other servants in green bow their heads before leaving us here and shutting the door. If I had to guess, the color of our dresses must mark us at different ranks or tasks.

'Those in emerald green must be trainers for new maids, but I wonder what navy stands for? Oh, well, I suppose I'll find out in the morning.' I heave a soft sigh and find a bed quickly before anyone else could take it. There aren't enough here for the lot of us, so quite a few are left having to share, but luckily, I get mine to myself. I lift the lid of my trunk to put away my other garments and find a few more items inside: a fresh towel, a toothbrush, a bar of soap, women's products, and a hairbrush.

Suddenly, the lights turn off, and we're all left in the dark with only the moonlight slipping in through the windows to help us see, so I quickly put my clothes away before getting under the covers, exhausted from the night of stress. Everyone falls into an uneasy state of rest, likely dreading what the morning may bring. I especially am not looking forward to tomorrow, but I will get through it for the sake of my dear family.

      Bright and early, we are woken up at five sharp by the "emerald maids", just as they said they would. The sun wasn't even out, but we all groggily slipped out of our beds and made ourselves look presentable for the day. After we were all ready, they escorted us to a cafeteria full of all sorts of servants, both male and female. We stand in line to receive our breakfast, which happens to be a rather bland oatmeal and a juicy, red apple.

I stand for a moment while looking over the many tables before deciding to sit on my own. It appears that everyone else has already found friends to sit with, and I don't want to intrude on any of them. I don't want to be a bother to anyone. I get through nearly half of my oatmeal by the time we're called to line up. I didn't have much of an appetite and my head was in the clouds, so I wasn't entirely focused on filling my belly. I leave my dish on the table, like everyone else had, before joining the others wearing the same dress as me. Likely, they will be picked up by another servant. Miss Perkins makes another appearance, standing before us with another emerald maid at her side and a clipboard in hand

"Which one of you is Y/N L/N?" She questions firmly for all of us to hear. I jolt in surprise upon hearing my name and take a small step forward.

"I am, miss." I could feel the eyes of the other girls on my back, which didn't ease my nerves in the slightest, but I do my best to appear calm. I'm not used to so much attention. Margery glances down at the paper on the clipboard, and in an instant, her rosy cheeks pale to a fine white as she lifts her gaze to meet mine again.

"It appears his majesty has put in a special request for you to... to groom his lion, Weston." Her voice shook with fear as her hands tremble and tighten their grip on the clipboard, while my heart thumps heavily in my chest. I imagine this will be quite a treacherous task based off of her expression alone. Gulping, I could feel all heat drain from my face as I tightly grip my hands in front of me and look down.

'I have to bathe a lion, a killer beast raised by a merciless king. He really isn't going to go easy on me, is he?' I am afraid. The man wants me dead, clearly, but I have to be brave. I have to do this. I must. I can hardly register the few sorry's thrown my way from my fellow maids as I process my first job in the palace before Miss Perkins continues reading off my tasks for the day.

"Afterwards, you shall join the others in cleaning the floor in the throne room and polishing the railings in the East Wing. Once you are finished with that, the rest of the day is yours." The woman sends me a look of pity as I lightly nod my head before the emerald maid beside her steps forward. Her curly, brown hair hovers just above her pale, mocha shoulders, and she has big, dark brown eyes accented by thick lashes. Dotting her cheeks are a few dark freckles that add an adorable touch to her soft features. Overall, she looks like a kind and gentle woman.

"Follow me, I'll take you there." Again, I nod my head and take a deep breath before coming to her side and following her out. We walk up through servant passageways to a hall on one of the higher floors before standing in front of a door. My guide opens it to reveal a elegant, yet simple, bathroom with cream white walls, a black, cubby shelf with two sinks and a large mirror above them, pristine white, tile floors, a massive, round, black tub and a big window covered by sheer, white curtains.

It's pretty elaborate for bathing a pet, though, I suppose it is for the King's pet. We wait there for a few minutes in silence until a man dressed in a sky blue dress shirt with white slacks and a matching vest enters the room with the famous, white lion on a leash. The giant beast looks less than thrilled. I grip my trembling hands tightly and gulp. Seeing him this close is frightening.

The dark-haired man holding the lead cautiously reaches for the black collar around the lion's neck to remove the leash and nearly gets his hand bitten off in the process. My escort and I jump back in fright at his menacing growl, while the muscular male steps back from Weston. The lion sits and chuffs, his posture similar to the way his master sits on the throne. The man keeps his gaze on the creature while walking around him before handing me a list of what I'll have to do.

"I'll be waiting outside." His blue eyes dart towards the beast before he looks me over with pity. "Good luck." With that, he exits the bathroom quickly, leaving me and the other woman with the beast.

"W-Well, I'll be going now. When you finish, make your way to the throne room. You can ask the man out there for directions if you don't know where to go." She looks away, her voice conveying her lack of confidence of me leaving this bathroom alive before she too hurries out of the room. I'm given one last look before she closes the door as I make eye contact with Weston. His golden eyes stare into my soul as though I was inferior to him, which made me nervous, but I take a deep breath to calm myself. Animals can easily sense fear, so it will not do me well to act afraid.

'Come on, Y/N. You've spent your whole life around animals. You can do this. He's just an overgrown cat... a very... very large cat.' Weston huffs before approaching me, so instinctively, I step aside, allowing him to walk up to the tub. He hops in, and the lining at the bottom of the bowl prevents the large beast from slipping. Taking this as a sign to get started, I fill the tub halfway with lukewarm water before reaching for the creatures collar with shaking hands. He growls warningly, causing me to retract my hands to my chest.

"All right, Weston, the sooner you let me do this, the sooner you'll be back with his highness," I say in a soft, calm tone in attempts to reason with the beast, whose corse growls lower in volume. Still, his muscles stay tense, looking ready to pounce the moment he didn't like something. "There we go. I'm just going to take this off, okay?"

If anyone had been watching, they might've thought I lost it, talking to an animal as though it were a person, but in my experience, talking softly and slowly can settle them, even if just slightly. I reach out again to remove the large collar before setting the leather strap aside and grabbing a bottle of soap. I squeeze a portion of it onto a large sponge before hesitantly making contact with Weston's mane and scrubbing gently. He didn't bite, nor growl, which I took as a good sign. I relax some, even smiling at the white creature staring at me with those big, golden eyes.

"See, I knew you were a good boy. I can try to ask if they can give you a treat for being so good. Wouldn't you like that?" To my surprise, the moment the word "treat" came out of my mouth, the lion's whole persona changed. He gives me a look of pure excitement and nudges his head affectionately against my body.

I yelp as I'm knocked off balance by the amount of force he used before laughing at the adorable action. One would hardly believe he was the same, scary lion from moments ago. Looking down, I find a giant, wet spot on the front of my dress, but I don't mind. It's better than getting eaten. Feeling brave, I pet the top of his big head, which he seems to like.

'Why was everyone was so worried? He doesn't seem that bad. Actually, he's kind of cute,' I think to myself as I hose down his body to clear the suds covering his snow white fur before setting a towel on the tiled floor. I pat it lightly while looking up at Weston, who obeys my silent command by jumping onto the plush fabric with grace. He then shakes off, splattering droplets of water everywhere, which makes me giggle and shake my head.

After grabbing another towel, I begin drying off the lion, and he has a seat on the floor. He seems to especially enjoy when I rub behind his ears, which makes me smile. "You like that, huh, boy?" Giggling softly, I pull back, much to the creature's dismay, and hang the towel up to dry. I, then, have a look at the list I was given and see that the next task is brushing.

I find the brush quickly and start on the lion's massive mane, going easy on the tangles incase he decides to bite me if I pull too hard. I empty the brush of shedded fur before tossing the hair in the bin and moving onto filing his nails and moisturizing his paw pads. I kneel in front of the beast and hold out my hand. "Can you give me your paw? Do you know how to do that?"

Weston lifts his heavy paw before setting it on top of my palm. I manage to hold it up long enough to file the sharp nails and do the same for all four of his feet before grabbing a container of a minty lotion, which I massage into his paw pads before releasing him. The last thing I have to do is brush his teeth, which admittedly, makes me nervous. After finding a large toothbrush, I squeeze some toothpaste onto it's bristles and have a look at the label on the tube that claims the paste is meat flavored. Being cautious, I push up the lion's top lip before running the brush over his sharp teeth, which he, luckily, doesn't seem to mind; in fact he keeps licking at the toothpaste, which gains me greater access to his mouth. I stand once I'm done and put everything back where I found it before draining the tub and drying the wet spots on the floor. I'm sure to put the used towels in the woven, laundry basket before grabbing Weston's collar.

"Don't you look handsome. You're such a good boy, Weston," I compliment to excite the lion as I pat his big head, resulting in him giving me another strong nudge that nearly knocks me over. This makes me laugh as I fasten the collar around his neck. "I'll ask if you can get a treat, okay?" Bending down I plant a tender kiss on his forehead and attach

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