Refuse.

You pipe up telling her ladyship that you must continue the chores of the house lest you be punished by the Duke or the Slavemaster. Her response was quick, a jowly appalled scorn. Then she headed back into the castle, leaving you with nothing but soapy water and eggs dried on forks.

...

After, her gaze is absent. In the halls only the sound of your restraints clanking accompanies you. No eyes stalk through the long corridors, the halls are cold to you now.