Amora stumbled back a few steps, she felt numb from surprise. She could feel the bedstand behind her legs, so she sat down, lowering her head so her eyes could not be seen.<span style="font-style: italic">What on earth is he thinking, making me the head cook??</span>She could hardly think as she placed her hands on her knees, and spoke with little realization that the words spilling out of her mouth were some no slave should ever say to her master. "Do not taunt me, sir. If you wish to punish me because of before, then do it." She put her hands to her sides, a tear trickled down her cheek. She wasn't afraid... why wasn't she afraid?<br/><br/>"My name is Amora, but men like yourself would prefer to call me 'Slave', 'Brat', 'Pathetic and worthless daughter of a theif', if you would prefer those names over my own." She knew, at any moment, the man would shout at her, strike her, cause her more pain for her insolence. She didn't care. She was already broken, her new master should know that. The girl could not keep silent the anger she had accumulated over the years, all the misery and pain others had given her, it was killing her from the inside. Even though telling this man these things may have shortened her life, she simply didn't care any longer.