He caught her eye and stilled for a moment before turning to leave, and she wasn’t sure if she had witnessed shame in his expression.
Swallowing the bile greeting her throat, she went to the next cell to find a book ready for her on the flap.
‘I don’t want another,’ came a rasping voice from inside.
She glanced at the love story, well-thumbed but clean. ‘Are you sure? I have more like that one.’
‘I don’t want to read about love anymore. It makes my time here worse.’
Her heart went out to him, but there was little she could do to offer comfort. Sorting through her trolley, she found one with sheep on the front. ‘I have one about farming.’ Silence remained as she took his book and placed it on her trolley. ‘If I were in here, I’d read anything I could to pass the time,’ she added softly, sliding the farming book onto the flap to see what would happen.
After a short moment, a dirty hand reached for the book, then disappeared back into the darkness.
Scarlen approached Oxley. ‘Can they see much in those cells? There doesn’t seem to be any light.’
He shook his head while watching the guards deep in conversation. ‘They’re not allowed light in their cells. It’s just the way it is.’
‘Doesn’t seem right,’ she whispered, wary of being heard.
‘Nothing about this place is right. Just be grateful you’re not in this section.’
She was, but she was also angry at how people were being treated, and why Milon hadn’t done anything about the prison on his release.
Another scream ripped through the block, swiftly followed by some banging that made the guards move to the first floor.
Scarlen headed for the next cell to take the book on the flap, her gaze on what was happening above. A hand shot out of the opening and grabbed her arm, taking her breath at once.
‘Princess, I see you,’ said a male voice. ‘I know who you are.’
The whole of her body tingled at his touch as her heart hammered frantically. ‘Let me go.’
Oxley whacked his fist down on the man’s hand, and it moved back into the cell sharply. ‘Watch yourself,’ he said to her, his brow tight with something resembling annoyance.
‘Princess. Princess,’ the voice whispered, and Scarlen was sure her heart stopped.
Oxley removed the book from the flap and placed it on the trolley, moving her along the cells. ‘Ignore him, reckons he’s a seer. Calls me a ghost and Bear a knight. He doesn’t know which way is up. You can’t pay attention to anyone in here. Just sort your books and leave.’ He left her to it, and trying her best to ignore the creepy voice of the seer seeping out of the opening in his door, she carried on with her job until someone else caught her full attention.
‘Hey, little southerner,’ said Varklee, his head tilted to one side, his lips to the other as he leaned on the handle of his mop.
There was something so menacing in the coolness of his blue eyes that always shook her to the core whenever she noticed him staring her way. He looked best suited to Red, but not as a cleaner.
‘Are you lost?’ he added.
She gestured at her trolley. ‘Do I look lost?’ She didn’t want to antagonise him, but she also wanted to stand her ground.
One side of his nose twitched. ‘Oh, you look very much out of your depth, little girl, especially when I see you in cahoots with our beloved Bear.’
Bear didn’t sound much loved at all.
Varklee moved the tip of his mop handle from his mouth. ‘Hasn’t anyone told you it’s best to stick to your own kind?’ He blew out a small sigh, his eyes filled with sarcasm. ‘Safer.’
Are you threatening me?She couldn’t bring herself to ask out loud so shuffled some books on the trolley instead.
‘You’re a pretty little thing,’ he added. ‘I’m sure there are others here from your Borough wanting to canoodle with you. Ones that won’t get you slayed.’ Wriggling the fingers on one hand as he scrunched his nose, he added, ‘It can be a messy affair dipping toes in rivers that aren’t in your neck of the woods, don’t you think? I mean, who knows what’s lurking beneath waiting to bite.’
Yep, he’s definitely threatening me.‘You were in the canteen. You saw what happened. Bear claimed me.’
‘But I don’t see you running away.’
