My heart aching for him, I started away from the bed when I noticed something odd. Frowning, I headed to the bedpost where his ankle was secured by a metal shackle. It took me a second to realize what I was looking at. Fresh and dried blood coated the metal.
I cringed as I saw his raw and bleeding skin that was mostly hidden from my view by the cuffs. So Acheron wasn't always inert like this. From the wounds that marked each arm and leg, I could tell he'd been fighting fiercely for his freedom whenever he was alone.
As I saw the blood, my own vision turned red. I'd had enough of this abuse.
My fury smoldering, I left his room to find our father.
After a quick search, I learned he was out in the training area watching as Styxx practiced his sword fighting.
"Father?"
He gave me an agitated stare that I'd dare to interrupt his encouragements to Styxx. "Is there a problem?"
"There is indeed. I want Acheron freed. I demand it."
He sneered at my request. "Why? What would he do with it?"
I wanted him to understand what he was doing to someone who'd never caused him harm. Someone who was his own flesh and blood. "You can't leave him tied like a beast, Father. It's cruel. He can't even attend his basic needs."
"Nor can he shame us."
"Shame us how?"
"Women," he snarled. "You're ever blind. Can you not see him for what he is?"
I knew exactly who and what my brother was. "He's a boy, Father."
"He's a whore." There was more venom in those words than in the snake pit where my father threw his enemies.
It made my ire seethe. "He was a tortured slave you turned out into the street. What was he supposed to do?"
He answered me with a feral snarl.
But I refused to back down. "I won't have this, Father. I won't stand for it another minute. So help me, if you don't let him out of those shackles, I will shear the hair from my head and scar my face to the point that neither Apollo nor anyone else will have use for me."
"You wouldn't dare."
For the first time in my life, I stared at him as an equal. There was no doubt inside me that I could carry out the threat. "For Acheron's life, I would. He deserves better than to be kept as he is."
"He deserves nothing."
"Then you can find another woman to whore for Apollo."
His eyes darkened in such a way that I was sure he'd strike me for my boldness.
But ultimately, I won this battle.
That very afternoon Acheron was freed from his bed. He lay there as the restraints were opened and I saw the suspicion in his eyes. He was waiting for something worse to happen.
Once the shackles were gone, I ordered the guards to leave the room. Acheron didn't move until we were alone. Slowly, angrily, he pushed himself up to glare at me. He was unsteady, his muscles weak from lack of use.
His long blond hair was matted and greasy. His skin sickly pale from the darkness that had been his home. A thick beard covered his cheeks. There were deep circles underneath his eyes, but he was no longer so gaunt—the atrocious feedings had added enough weight to him that he at least appeared human.
"You can't leave this room," I warned him. "Father was explicit in his terms that you're only allowed freedom in here so long as you stay hidden."
Acheron froze at my words and gave me a piercingly cold stare.
"At least you're no longer tied down."
He didn't speak to me. He never did anymore. But his swirling silver eyes spoke volumes. They told of the pain and agony that made up his life. They accused and they ached.
"My rooms are two doors down should you—"
"I can't leave," he snarled. "Isn't that what you just said?"
I opened my mouth, then paused. He was right. I'd already forgotten it. "I shall come visit you, then."
"Don't bother."
"Acheron—"
He interrupted my words with a cutting glare. "Do you remember what you said to me on your last visit to my cell?"
I struggled to recall it. I'd been angry at him for not speaking to me, but that was all I remembered. "No."
"Go die for all I care. I can't be bothered with you anymore."
I winced at words I should never have spoken. They cut me soul deep which was nothing compared to how they must have felt to him. If only I'd known the misery he was in . . . "I was angry."
He curled his lips. "And I was too weak to answer. It's hard to speak when you go days with nothing but darkness and rats for company. But then you don't know what it's like to have rats and fleas bite you, do you? What it's like to sit in your own shit."
"Acheron—"
His nostrils flared. "Leave me, Ryssa. I don't need your charity. I don't need anything from you."
"But . . ."
He shoved me from the room and slammed the door shut in my face.
I stared at it until a movement beside me caught my notice. Acheron's guards. He had two of them to make sure he didn't breach Father's mandate.
So this was his fate. I'd only changed the location of his prison. He still had no freedom.