Chaeyoung was not sure how much time had passed, but she had been glancing around the room constantly, in hopes of hatching an escape plan.

“I already told you, it’s useless,” the fortune-teller sighed, following Chaeyoung’s gaze knowingly, “there is no way out of here. If you even try to escape they will punish you. You’ll either end up with a gashing scar on your face or a missing limb, whichever is more convenient for them.”

Chaeyoung looked at the older woman for a long second but averted her gaze immediately. She could no longer look at her without think about the ‘fortune’ she had predicted for the soulmate. Two men, two soulmates, next life. It was not possible, none of it made any sense, and the ridiculousness of it all was causing a headache to grow in her temples.

It was hard enough trying to deal with her endlessly deepening feelings for one man. She could scarcely imagine what falling in love with two men would do to her heart. If the prediction proved to be true, the Chaeyoung of the future would be in for a torturous journey indeed.

But, she did not have time to worry about her next life when her current life was at stake and she was on the verge of either being sold off to some faraway country or murdered.

“Who is behind all of this?” Chaeyoung asked, trying to twist her hands around behind her for the hundredth time that night in a futile attempt at untying the restraint.

“A man named Hoshi captures the girls and sells them to this place. It looks like a regular inn on the outside, but underground is where all the big business deals occur. They sell us for thousands of gold pieces to foreigners who travel from all over the world for Korean beauties,” she explained, her tone dripping with bitterness, “he is one of the King’s companions, so none of his actions have any repercussions. In fact, I would not be surprised if the king himself shows up one day to play with one of Hoshi’s toys.”

Chaeyoung closed her eyes briefly to appease the headache all of this information was creating. If Hoshi was involved in this matter, then he would surely have hundreds of guards patrolling the area and escaping alone would be nearly impossible.

Still, she had to try.

Her gaze landed on one of the empty glass bottles beside her and then to the alcohol before shooting up to the small window.

“I have an idea,” she announced, clumsily scooting towards the bottle like a waddling penguin, “everyone move out of the way.”

The ladies quickly dispersed themselves towards the back of the room before Chaeyoung kicked a bottle against the concrete wall of the cellar as hard as she physically could with her feet tied. Immediately, the glass shattered into several smaller pieces. As the ladies yelped and shielded themselves from the flying pieces, Chaeyoung bent backwards to pick up one of the bigger chunks that had broken off.

“Everyone, grab a piece of glass and try to cut through your ropes,” she handed the glass to the fortune teller before kicking another bottle against the wall to create more pieces.

One-by-one, they each picked up the sharpest pieces of glass they could find and began to scrape it back and forth against the rope that restrained their wrists. However, trying to cut through the thick fibres of the rope with their hands tied behind their backs was much more difficult than Chaeyoung had anticipated. Her fingers ached from the repetitive movements and the friction of the rope moving back and forth along her bare skin invoked an irritating burning sensation along her wrists.

She was not even sure if her idea would work, or whether they were all wasting their precious energy on a useless plan, but at least they were willing to try. As Chaeyoung glanced around the room at the scared and desperate women, whose hands were beginning to shake and bleed from the shards of glass they held firmly in their palms, she couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of protectiveness. These ladies were beginning to trust her, and she needed to ensure that their efforts were not in vain.

As they continued to fight against their restraints with slow but steady progress, the sudden sound of horse’s hooves and hushed voices above the cellar window caught Chaeyoung’s attention.

“Do you guys hear that?” she asked, clumsily rising to her feet and hopping towards the small, barred window, “help!”

“It’s no use,” the green-eyed woman whispered, “they’re most likely customers who have come for the sole purpose of buying us. Your screams will not only be ignored but also invoke the guards’ anger.

Chaeyoung’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, “how often do ‘customers’ show up here?”

The woman shrugged, “it depends. Sometimes we are lucky and there are none. Other times there are up to 10 customers per night. If you are chosen, you get the ‘privilege’ of being taken upstairs to one of the private rooms where you will be groomed and beautified for the customer. And if they enjoy your service, they may negotiate a price and buy you off. If they are unsatisfied you will either be punished or killed, at the customer’s discretion.”

Chaeyoung shuddered. She had to wonder how long these unlawful activities have been occurring without her knowledge. Grave matters such as this one needed to be publicly addressed, not swept under the carpet for the sake of saving reputation. This journey had proven to her how little she knew of this country she called her own and how unprepared she was to handle state affairs. Ruling such a complex and large country would require much more than a birth right, and every day she wondered whether she was truly the right person for such a crucial job.

She gripped the shard of glass harder and quickened the pace of her fingers, her wrists longing to escape their burning confines. Ever so slightly, she thought she felt the rope loosen and moved quicker, gaining a much-needed sliver of hope during this long, dark night. Again, the rope loosened slightly more and she had regained the ability to twist her wrists. Faster, and faster, she cut through the rope, ignoring the burning and gush of fluid dripping down her palms, until the rope had been completely cut through and she finally broke through the restraints.

One-by-one the rest of the women’s restraints began to loosen as well. They gasped and shed happy tears before helping each other cut through their feet restraints. When everyone had been freed at last, Chaeyoung, with the help of 3 other ladies, tipped over a large barrel of alcohol.

“Okay, I need two pieces of cloth and two large pieces of wood,” Chaeyoung instructed as the woman scattered throughout the room to find the equipment she sought.

Within a few seconds, two women had ripped the outer layer of their skirts to provide Chaeyoung with two long pieces of cotton cloth while the others broke off the legs of the only chair in the room to produce the wooden pieces she had asked for.

Immediately, Chaeyoung began soaking the cloth in the alcohol, “cloth is much stronger when it is wet. There is a reduced chance of tearing it.”

These were the survival skills her father had begun teaching her at the young age of 10, recognizing that as a princess, she posed a greater risk of being kidnapped for a heavy ransom than anyone else in the country.

And then, she rolled the empty alcohol barrel towards the window. Carefully, she lifted her skirt and climbed on top of the wet, unstable cylinder. With scarred and blood covered hands, she reached up to wrap one piece of cloth around 2 of the steel bars in front of the open window, tying one broken leg of the chair in the middle with sharp, hasty movements. Once the wood was secured to the cloth, she began to use it as a lever, twisting it clockwise until the cloth became so tight that it began to bend the metal bars ever so slightly.

The women watched with wide-shocked eyes as she bent the steel right before their eyes, murmuring expressions of awe amongst themselves as Chaeyoung fought the burning of her palms and her throbbing arms to continue turning the lever over and over until the steel could not be bent any further. Then, without taking a second to catch her breath, she moved on to the other two remaining bars.

The rusty metal had just been begun to budge slightly when the sound of heavy footsteps sounded outside the cellar doors.

Everyone’s head snapped towards the doors in horror. For a second, they all froze, with varying expressions of horror colouring their features.

“If they find us like this—” one of the women turned towards Chaeyoung with wide eyes.

Chaeyoung jumped down immediately, “we need to get everything back into its position. Someone help me move this barrel. Someone clean up the alcohol, everyone else sweep the glass into a corner!”

A wave of guilt washed over her for barking orders to a group of scared, helpless women, but the situation was dire, and they could not risk being found.

In an instant, the 12 of them collectively restored the room to its previous appearance. Just in time for the footsteps to stop outside the door.

“Everyone sit down and hold your hands behind your back and stay calm,” Chaeyoung whispered before grabbing a piece of rope and turning towards the fortune teller, “I want you to retie my wrists.”

“What, why—”

“Just do it, we do not have time.”

The woman abruptly began to wrap the rope around her hand again as Chaeyoung faced the other prisoners, “I want you all to work on opening the other side of the window. Once you have done that, wait for me to return and we will escape together through the opening. We will escape, I promise you that.”

“What are you going to do—”

“Shh,” Chaeyoung whispered, sinking down to the floor just as the lock outside the gates clicked open.

Chaeyoung glanced up immediately, surprised to see a middle-aged lady walk through the doors. She was unsure what to expect on the other side of those suffocating doors, but she was definitely shocked to see a woman sharing responsibility for this horrid act.

“Good news ladies,” she announced in an overtly cheerful tone, thankfully not picking up on the tense aura floating through the room, “we have our first customer for the night. And he would like a tall woman.”

“Take me,” Chaeyoung stood up tall, gulping back the wave of nausea climbed up at the idea of being sold like a sheep for slaughter, “I am the tallest in the room … and the prettiest.”

She had to force that last sentence out, fighting to maintain a solemn expression on her face that would convey sincerity instead of the disgust that was running rampant throughout her entire body.

“Oh my, eager and confident? You will do just fine,” the woman practically cooed, grabbing her roughly by the arm and shoving her towards the door without another moment of hesitation.

Despite the sense of fear that continued to intensify with every step she took, Chaeyoung still managed to throw a reassuring smile over her shoulder at the remaining ladies. Then, she allowed herself to be pushed through the doors, hoping, praying that she would somehow get through the night.

Truthfully, she too was unsure of the details of her plan, but something told her she would be much better equipped to handle whatever situation awaited her upstairs than any of the other terrified imprisoned women.

The first thing the woman did was blindfold her, after which she proceeded to tie another rope around her waist, dragging her around the area until they reached a staircase. Chaeyoung’s captor did not slow her pace at all, pushing her forward along the staircase and causing her to trip and struggle all the way up.

After what felt like forever, she finally heard the sound of a door sliding open and allowed herself to be led inside what she assumed was her room for the night. She remained as limp and lifeless as a noodle as the woman proceeded to strip and clean her, re-twisting her tangled hair into tight braids and curls and carefully retouching the makeup that had become smeared throughout the night.

As she sat there, a pang of resentment suddenly hit her, recalling being pampered and groomed against her will every single morning as a princess. She had always despised being treated like a useless, helpless doll, and only now realized how much she did not miss her life as a princess. To think she would be subjected to this same form of torture as a future queen only intensified this feeling of animosity.

Not long after, she was left to sit on a bed alone. Unable to see anything except the black silk which blindfolded her, she could feel the fear growing in her chest. And whe