“Is he all right?” Sain asked, his voice a whisper. I gaped at him, shocked he had the balls to say anything, and risk them coming back down to hurt us. It no longer mattered now.
“Yes.” I looked away from the staircase to Talon. I still could not see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, I felt the thundering in my heart, and for one brief moment it over rode the pain in my body. Please just be knocked out. Please.
“Are you all right?” Sain whispered from the other side of the jail, the regret I saw in his eyes earlier just as heavy in his voice now.
I was beginning to hate that question. I hated what it meant. I hated that it was the first thing we asked one another. I missed asking someone how their day was, or even talking about the weather. God, how I missed talking about the weather.
I didn’t answer Sain. I rested my head against the rock wall, my arms tight against the skin of my cheeks.
“It will be soon,” Sain said, and this time I looked at him. Something about his voice was different.
“What will be soon?” My voice creaked out slowly, the muscles in my throat burning as I forced air through them.
“When that life is lost, there will be a moment when you can do anything.” His voice was strangely deadpan, his eyes focused on Talon and not on me.
“Sain?” I asked, ignoring the throbbing of truth that was burning through me. His words seeped into me and rattled my bones with a sob that wouldn’t leave me. I pushed it to the side. I locked it away as my pride, my fear, took over.
“No, Sain,” I pleaded, not wanting him to continue.
“Follow the light, and you will escape. Follow the pain, and you will die.”
“Sain!” I screamed his name, not caring if I was heard, not caring what beating might follow. I just wanted Sain to take his words back. I didn’t want to hear them.
Sain turned his head to me, his hands wrapped around the bars as he looked at me. I barely made out the crinkle in his eyes as he smiled, before footsteps started thundering down the stairwell.
I froze, regretting my scream and awaiting whatever new pain was to come. But it wasn’t pain; it was something far worse.
My father bolted down the steps and right into my cell, his strides bringing him right up to me. His hand collided with my jaw, his dark eyes staring into me wickedly. He was daring me to challenge him, daring me to speak back, glare, anything. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t see beyond the blinding words Sain had just unleashed on me. They leached out of the air like a poison and zapped all the fight out of me.
“Good girl,” Timothy said, his lips turning up. He raised his hand and the chains that suspended me loosened, my body dropping to the ground as much as the chains would allow, restraining me to a high sitting position.
“Don’t cause any more problems,” Timothy spat as he walked away, just as more feet and voices echoed down to us.
“Oh god, what is that terrible stench,” Ovailia spat, her icy voice cutting through me and adding to my fear.
“The smell of fear and oppression, dear,” Cail said, laughing as he walked back in. Ovailia, Edmund, and one of their guards followed him in.
My father turned at Edmund’s arrival, bowing slightly as Edmund surveyed the circumstances around him. I tried to look away, but couldn’t. I stared at Edmund, knowing that defeat was evident on my face, knowing it didn’t matter anymore.
“Lovely,” he said, his voice stiff as he tried not to inhale. “I think you two have done a wonderful job.”
Edmund moved around in front of us, his hands clanging each of our cells as he moved past.
Ovailia followed her father, Cail right beside her. As she moved past us, her eyes taking us all in, I caught her gaze. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at the bruises on my face and the way I was strung up and immobilized.
“You’re looking well, Wynifred.” She smiled, and Cail laughed at her taunt before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the cell against the far wall.
“Hello, Sain,” she said as she kneeled down in front of Sain’s cell, bringing her eyes down to his level. The sharp points of her high heels stuck out precariously, the glistening of the black leather caught in the low light. I looked at the shoes, wishing I could grab just one of them and use it against her.
“How are you doing, dear? Did you miss me?” I could hear the laugh in her voice, the taunt, but Sain only smiled, his eyes crinkling in joy.
“I never missed you Ovailia.” Even I could hear the lie and the heartbreak that his voice held.
“How nice,” Ovailia sneered. “I have a gift for you.”
Ovailia lifted her hand, and the servant that had followed them down put a large brown mug in it. She lowered it down so that Sain could see, and he jumped, his body moving to press against the bars. Sain’s chained hands reached for it, his desperate fingers unable to reach.
“Water,” he gasped, the need in his voice showing a primal urge that I hadn’t been aware he possessed. I watched as he grasped for the mug, his fingers reaching as Ovailia’s smile increased.