The room was vast, its walls lined with bookshelves, lit by small candles and a long fireplace that cast an orange glow. Upon entering the first door, they'd expected to face Abrahams immediately. But behind every door lay another room, and another, and another—a maze impossible to navigate. And now, Abrahams' revolting smile welcomed them after over ten minutes of wandering.
Their faces darkened at the sight. Ren looked down—the longer she saw his face, the more violently Al-Dura's corpse haunted her.
The brothers stood side by side, shackled as if awaiting a public trial, while Abrahams lounged like a father reunited with his children. He spread his arms. "Welcome, my little ones. Did you rest well? You must be exhausted from the sudden change in surroundings."
Colin gritted his teeth. This man hadn't changed his tone or mannerisms despite the stark difference between their time at the stable and their current hopeless state. His excessive ease, his cheerful tone as if they were old friends—it was maddening. "I don't recall us being on terms that allow you to ask about our well-being," Colin spat. "Or have you forgotten what you did so quickly?"
Abrahams rested his chin on his hand. "What do you mean, dear Colin? I merely sent you an invitation. My hands have done nothing wrong."
Dai stepped forward angrily. "You bastard! Does killing Al-Dura and her foal mean nothing to you?"
"No need for such anger, dear Doctor Dai. Al-Dura was my property. I can do as I please with her and her foal. She proved useful to her owner—she should be happy in the afterlife."
His cold delivery made them wonder if he routinely ordered horses killed. Colin and Dai (who'd taken the anger hardest) realized Abrahams' blood ran colder than the capital's river in winter. Matteo, meanwhile, silently glared at Abrahams with unusual intensity. Sai stood with Ren, who'd retreated into silence again. Colin didn't want Abrahams steering the conversation, so he asked bitterly, "Where are we?"
Abrahams straightened, as if he'd been waiting for this question. "You, my dear boy, are in the capital's underbelly." The brothers' eyes widened. So they were still in the capital. But why did an entire city lurk beneath the world's noisiest metropolis? Images of the slaves, carts, and muffled laughter from behind doors flashed through their minds. Their uneasy glances only widened Abrahams' smile. "I assume you've guessed this city's nature. Everyone knows the capital has a luxurious side for the rich and a filthy side for the dregs. But few know it has a third side—or an underbelly, to be precise. Life thrives underground as much as above. I daresay the surface couldn't function without this underbelly. And you, my little ones, are now part of this vibrant community."
Dai, incensed at being lumped into this vile place, snapped, "You're insane. You think we'll submit without resistance?"
"Thank you for your honesty, dear Dai. But you have no choice. You stole something of mine—it's time I reclaim it." Abrahams nodded to one of the men behind them, who roughly grabbed Ren's arm, dragging her toward Abrahams. Sai lunged, trying to kick the man away, followed by Colin and Dai. The giant didn't budge—their pitiful kicks barely fazed him. Hunger had weakened them. The man pulled a long whip from his coat, raising it high—until Ren shouted, "Stop! I can handle this!"
Colin, his face buried in the man's coat, protested, "But Ren—"
"I-it's pointless to resist now. I can handle it." The three brothers backed off, and the men forced them to their knees. They knew she didn't want to see them hurt needlessly now. But they also knew she was lying—she hadn't even lifted her eyes to Abrahams since entering. How could she face him head-on?
The men hadn't grabbed Matteo, who still watched Abrahams sharply from a distance. Colin couldn't understand his sudden calm. Normally, Matteo would've raged at such treatment—like when he'd resisted being shackled earlier. And Colin hated when Matteo turned eerily quiet in serious situations. Was he trying to overthrow Abrahams with his glare?
Abrahams cupped Ren's chin—her body trembling violently. His thumb circled her cheek, her skin burning with fear. She couldn't close her eyes under his gaze; her pounding heart drowned out even the underbelly's noise. "Marvelous," Abrahams mused. "Not a single scratch. We should be grateful your thieves were so overprotective."
Colin and Dai hurled the vilest insults they could muster—perhaps inventing new epithets. Even Sai began cursing under his breath, his eyes locked on his prey. Ren wanted to retort. How she hated her perpetual silence. My brothers aren't thieves, I'm not your property, and we won't stay in this horrific underbelly. She knew her words wouldn't change anything, but she wanted to prove—to Abrahams, to her brothers, to herself—that she could speak freely like them. She couldn't call herself Ren the Free Sparrow if she couldn't even face danger with words. That wasn't freedom. The free were free in all things—even their words.
Her voice quivered in her throat. She forced her trembling tongue to move. "M-my brothers aren't thieves. I'll never be yours."
Abrahams tilted his head. "You misunderstand, Ren." His hands slid into her hair, gripping tightly. The three brothers stiffened at his audacity. "I owned you before you were born."
Ren's confusion showed. "That's impossible. I worked at a tavern—"
"Perez's Tavern. It's mine. I sent you there to... mature a little." Ren's eyes stopped blinking. "It's simple, Ren. You're the daughter of a whore who worked in one of my brothels here in the underbelly. Your mother was my property—so naturally, her daughter is too. But you rebelled and ran after I provided you a home. It's fine if you're a little angry, isn't it?"
Ren's gaze dropped. Had she never been free? Not even at birth? She should reject his words. She should say something. She should summon her courage and direct it at his face, declaring she was free and he had no right to claim her because of a woman she'd never met. But his face, his voice, his tyranny made her feel weak and defeated. Was this how slaves were made?
A calm voice laced with mockery cut through the room. "So that's your pathetic excuse for owning Ren?"