Capital: Tower Market

Human Consignment is the highest-end slave store in the Kingdom of Pendragon. Located in the Tower Market in the Capital, it is owned by the elven nobleman, Tercorrin Treebowyer. As a fellow noble, you'd met him at parties before. He was a gentleman who preferred the company of men and well-known for his charm and eccentricity. While you were aware of his occupation, you never thought you would actually get involved with it. You never had any intention of buying a slave... But not even in your wildest dreams did you imagine becoming one.

You stand in the corner of the store, hands grasping your sheathed sword for security. You're naked as the day you were born, not a stitch on you save for the simple piece of twine tying your hair. There aren't many slaves in the store, as Tercorrin tends to keep only a select stock and they never stay long before being sold, but you swear that you feel their eyes on you, examining your shameful curves, hairless pussy, and pink, inverted nipples...

"Relax, Fleur. They're just as naked as you."

The voice in your head is a familiar one by now. A decade ago, you picked up the cursed sword "Joyeuse," a blade said to corrupt and consume any who attempt to wield it. To the shock of everyone, your will and luck had managed to overcome the sword, and you have since become known as the "Blade Tamer." Joyeuse isn't that bad once you get to know it...

"Joy, them being naked doesn't make this less humiliating for me..." you grumble.

"I'll never understand why you mortals wear so much... Flaunt that shit, girl!"

It was only a week ago that you'd been dragged by your family to attend a meeting between the King of Pendragon and the visiting King Augustus Perkiva Pekorin, monarch of the neighboring Kingdom of Pekorin. Dressed in your finest, you were there as a representative of House Durendal. You didn't expect the King to have brought his daughter, Princess Sastina Perkivo Pekorin.

She'd been hitting on your brother. You felt obligated to step in. Next thing you know, you'd broken the ornament on the head of the scepter she had, a national treasure that belonged to her father. Faced with a potential war and a debt on House Durendal, you made a decision... and you sold yourself into slavery.

"Joy, what are the odds that my master will be one who lets me wear clothes?" you whimper, fidgeting with the red hilt of the sheathed blade for comfort.

"Girl, those kinda slave owners are like unicorns. Rare, magical, and probably gotta dick. Besides, you know it ain't exactly okay for slaves to wear clothes in public. If you're lucky, your master might let ya wear 'em in private, but... Honestly, I think ya should flaunt those curves, girl! Ya got some top-quality tits!"

You sigh. "Thanks, Joy..." It's nice that you have Joyeuse with you, at least. With the cursed sword being soulbound to you, they can't exactly take it from you. If anyone tries to wield it besides you, Joyeuse will happily kill them, then just reappear in your hands.

"Don't you want to take a seat, Fleurette?" Tercorrin asks from the counter, smiling at you.

You shake your head. "I am more comfortable standing vigilant."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself!"

You groan. So awkward... You wish you could at least wear a bedsheet or something...

The door to Human Consignment opens and you glance at who enters.