Horror stories have only just started surfacing in the last few turns, but the king has been using us as bargaining chips with the rest of the continent. Some of us fled to nearby kingdoms that welcomed us as kin.
“Goddess help me.” My fragmented voice squeaks out of my throat.
The numbness I felt earlier trickles through my veins, slowly adding to the reservoir of emotions I’ve locked back. Each drop threatens to crack my barricade.
I suck my lip between my teeth and roll it back and forth. My eyes feel weary, haze forming in my peripherals when I stare too long.
I can’t tell how much time has passed since The Devourer brought me back. Upon his cold deliverance into this shit hole, I immediately sat in the farthest corner with only the tattered remnants of my dress to cushion the floor.
If I was going to have to endure another unpleasant visit from Lord Velroy, I’d be ready and this time he would meet my booted foot.
My stomach roils at the thought of potentially seeing him again. I’d already tried to forget the events of earlier, but somewounds weren’t superficial. He’d done exactly what he wanted, he rattled me.
“Godsdamn it!” The shriek echoes around me as I pick up the silver bowl and throw it as hard as I can against the wall, water splashing haphazardly on the floor.
The messy, chaotic trail mimics the storm in my mind.
“Get it together, Alora. You can survive this. You’ve survived worse.”
I repeat the reassurance like a prayer. But instead of calming me, all it does is make me feel more helpless. I’m afraid of what will happen if the last ends of my sanity fray and what will be left of me if I accept that I’m not as strong as I pretend.
In an effort to distance the barrage of thoughts, I stand and start counting my steps. Night must be high as the temperature around me feels uncomfortably cool against my dirty skin.
I walk towards the flickering lantern. Worrying my lip between my teeth to the point blood rises to the surface, I reach for the glowing lamp and check the oil level. Being left in here, alone and in the dark, would be my personal nightmare.Alone, like Leeson is.
I haven’t had any sign of Caym or the rest of The Hidden. They couldn’t have gotten me a sign while I’m locked in this room anyways with the iron culling bands on me. No mindpath could have whispered into my brain while I’ve been stuck here and my magic revoked and ravens wouldn’t be able to enter the windowless space.
A soft tap at the door has my head snapping in that direction. I quickly retreat to the far corner. I doubt Lord Velroy would knock, but he has shown he’s no better than a cat that toys with prey.
Silence ensues.
Unsure if I should do anything or if I imagined the sound, I wait. A soft tap comes again, followed by a gruff voice.
“Commander Viren, Alora, I’m entering now, don’t throw anything.”
The Devourer.
Now I wish I hadn’t thrown the water bowl.
The door pushes open and I stand still. My hands close and then flex open as I stretch my fingers. I make a point to lay them flat against the fabric draped on my thighs, hoping that I look unbothered.
He walks in, holding a lantern, surprisingly put together. His hair is pulled back into a dark knot at the nape of his neck. His black shirt buttoned all the way and tucked into his equally neat pants. He is the incarnate of the darkest void in the sky, where stars are swallowed into nothingness.
I look expectantly at him, annoyance rolling off me.
“Well, why are you here? Have you decided to let me stab you before you go and use your cursed magic on someone else?” Lifting my hand toward him, I open my palm to him. “If you’d deliver my dagger and tell me where to place the blow, I’ll happily do it. Maybe even twice.”
He doesn’t move closer to me. Even from here I can see the small upturn of a smirk.Bastard.
“Not many would speak to me that way.” His gaze lingers on my ripped hem, and his face falls flat and stony again.
“I’m here to talk to you about tomorrow, or rather this morning, as we’re well past the high moons now.”
My throat dries. I had assumed there would be more time to plan an escape.
“The king must be threatened by our antics, which I could assume means we’re doing a fine job at irritating him if he wants me dead.”
His face doesn’t reveal anything.
