Chapter 3: Don’t Call Me the Slave Boss—I Haven’t Issued Paychecks Yet
479words
“You can call me ‘shut up’ or ‘your sis’—take your pick.”
I was flipping through a pile of hay, trying to find a usable wooden comb. Found one, ran it through my hair—snap. It broke.
“...Are you mad?” little Amy peeked at me nervously.
“Nah. I’m just thinking about how to level up our lives beyond the sad little question of ‘Will we get soup today?’”
I sat up, twirling the broken half of the comb in my fingers. “And also whether Lusa’s precious silver fork should mysteriously go missing.”
“You really can see the future?” she whispered. “Like... when will I finally find love?”
I glanced at her. “You? Forget love for now. Focus on not destroying the Alpha’s underwear next time you’re on laundry duty.”
“H-how did you know about that…” Her face turned beet red.
I gave her my best I-know-everything look and waved her off. “Anyway, don’t go fetch water tonight. I remember the river’s gonna glow blue later—it’s the omen before a wolf ritual. Anyone who touches it gets sick.”
The girls exchanged wary glances, but clearly, they were already developing that oddly specific faith people always have in a girl-who-just-might-be-a-witch.
“So... you’re our—what, slave captain now?”
I was just about to say don’t give me titles when a cold voice cut in from behind:
“Slaves have ranks now? What is this, a democracy?”
I turned around. And oh, look who it is.
Rehn.
A temp in the patrol squad, and in my past life, a two-faced snitch with a silver tongue. The day before I died, it was him who ratted me out and got me dragged off for interrogation.
But now—
“Well, if it isn’t Lord Rehn,” I said with a bright smile, brushing the hay off my pants as I stood. “Out on patrol today? Careful not to trip over your conscience. It’s as thin as wolfskin parchment.”
He frowned. “When did you get so mouthy?”
“I’ve always been like this,” I shrugged. “Just never felt like wasting words on people who weren’t worth it.”
He scoffed. “Don’t think bossing around a few little slaves means you’re gonna take over the place.”
I stepped closer, dropped my voice, and said with a smile, “Relax. I’m not just taking over this place—I’m also taking care of you. That little secret you’ve been hiding? I remember everything.”
He tensed. Eyes narrowed.
He knew.
I knew.
I patted him on the shoulder, all friendly-like. “Don’t worry, I’m not coming for you yet. I’ll wait till my ‘slave council’ is officially in session—then we’ll deal with traitors like you.”
He turned and stormed off, muttering over his shoulder, “Crazy woman’s even crazier now…”
I watched him go, grinning wider than ever.
Starting today, the winds in this slave camp were about to change.
