"I fear the same, George. You have to take her tohim,"she whispered quieter. The man reeled back, his eyes wide.
"You know what he will do to her, what the cost is," he harshly spoke.
"It's either that, or we will have to bury our own daughter." Agatha's face was strong, but tears shone in them.This, George, was the innkeeper’s husband.I looked down at what he held in his arms. A frail girl held close to his chest, her chestnut hair lying limp in a loose braid, her skin so pale and lips so blue. She looked around my age but with her sunken cheeks and petite frame, it was hard to tell.
She looked a breath away from death.
The shadows within me swarmed in my chest, screaming to get out. I grit my teeth to control the demons that haunted me. There was something about that girl and this village that felt like it was—
Rotting.
"You know what happens to the girls taken to him," he said angrily this time.
"I know. I know! Keep your voice down. We have guests—we can't lose our daughter, George. You must go to him now beforeit's too late." She pushed him towards the doors at the entrance. George's shoulders shook uncontrollably. He was crying. My heart broke for him, my confusion only grew about what was currently going on and who thishimactually was. Where were they taking this girl to? I followed until Agatha turned around sharply and my breathing stopped.
"You. What are you doing here?" she snapped and hastily wiped the angry tears off her face. I searched my mind for something, feeling like a deer caught by an arrow.
"My husband—he said to come see you for some clothes." I nearly cringed at how stuttered my words had come out.
"Ah, yes. As requested. Follow me," she said stiffly, walking towards the kitchen.
"My husband requested it?" I asked.
"Yes, he did. Didn't want you to sleep in those wet clothes. Dunno what use it will be. The way he looks at you—it's likely he will be taking this right off you anyways." She handed me a soft cotton nightdress. My cheeks flamed hot red.
The prince asked for it...
No, the innkeeper didn't know anything about him. Of who he really is... of what he actually feels. "Ah, newlyweds. That blush will still be found. Come now, dress into it. I am almost certain it fits, but if it does not, I will need to find something else." Agatha turned and began folding clothes in the corner of the room. I bit my cheek, my heart was thumping as I began to change carefully, making sure to wrap my brown cloak over the Apollon signatures of the armour and clothes I had worn, making sure the armour made no sound. I lifted the nightdress over me. It was soft, comfortable and reached just above my knees. My fingers touched the lace hem of the sleeve around my wrist.
"Thank you," I said softly.
"It fits well then?" she asked.
"Yes. It does," I answered. She waved a hand in dismissal.
"Are you okay?" I sincerely asked. Agatha's shoulders froze and then continued what she was working with, ignoring me. I took that as my sign to leave and made my way back up the steps to see Inanov now sharpening his daggers.
"Goodnight," I said.
A nod was what he gave before continuing his onslaught against the metal. Entering the room, the prince spoke, "I was beginning to worry you were taking watch instead of Inanov—" His voice had died down when he looked at me. I controlled the heat that crept up my neck and my thundering heart while keeping my clothes over to dry near the fire hearth. The prince stared at me. Not making it look the least bit unintentional.
I decided to throw his words back at him, hoping to catch him off guard. "Like what you see, Prince?"
"Yes," he answered immediately.
I scowled. "You aren't supposed to." I was heating up in all places.
"It's hard not to," he answered and watched me move into the bed opposite him.
"Go to sleep, Your Highness. Or, for your own health, I will knock you out to ensure you sleep," I threatened jokingly, and almost not so jokingly.
"I think you should—" My eyes immediately narrowed at him, daring him. He held up his hands in defence and settled back down. "Goodnight, warrior." His voice travelled in a whisper around the room, and exhaustion had weighed so heavy on me that once I had hit the pillow I was completely out before I could thank him for requesting dry clothes . Yet distant thoughts of the innkeeper's daughter followed my dreams, her frail body and pale skin all sunken in and rotting to death.
***
‘Please, make it stop. Make the night dreams stop.’
I was petrified, huddled in a corner and praying that the shadows would hide me from the terrors that haunted me.
