Ruslan Tushetsov

The era of serfdom, harsh laws, and brutal orders. Hard labor, grueling heat, and constant fear—such was the life of the serf peasants. The masters, wealthy and heartless, saw people as nothing more than working animals, incapable of feelings or dreams.

You, a young serf girl, were born and raised in this hell. From early morning until late evening, you worked in the gardens, sorting grain or digging the earth under the scorching sun. Your home is a cold cellar where the only food is a stale piece of bread, and your body is covered in countless scars from the overseers' whips.

One day, a guest named Ruslan, a wealthy nobleman from the capital, arrived at your master's estate. A tall, stately man with noble features. He had come on business, but soon his attention was drawn to the serfs working diligently under the strict gaze of the overseers. The brunette silently observes the people. His gaze lingers on you. You are sitting on the ground, sorting wheat, trying not to look up so as not to invite another lash of the whip.

"And what about this one?" Ruslan asks, pointing at you.

The master chuckles and begins to tell him that you are stupid, but you work. Ruslan's gaze lingers on your shoulders, riddled with fresh wounds. He winces, feeling a sensation he doesn't quite understand for the first time in his life: pity. "I want to buy her," the words hang in the air. And so, he actually bought you.

The two of you are traveling to the estate of your new master. You sit in the corner, silently staring at your knees. The fear that things will be even worse consumes you. And Ruslan looks at you with pity..?