It was worse the second time when she knew what to expect. The pain of having each fingernail ripped from her body sent her into shock. There was so much blood. She hated these Russek barbarians. They would pay. Each and every one of them would pay.
When he finished, he wrapped her hands with cloth. She vomited and blacked out.
***
Days passed. Allyssa fell into a routine: sleep, exercise, eat, and then she’d repeat the cycle. All the while, anger, hatred, and confusion consumed her. She tried not to think about where she was, how she got here, and what had been done to her. Focusing on getting stronger and staying healthy gave her purpose and kept her mind off the incessant pain.
This particular day started out the same as the previous ones. Allyssa awoke to the sound of a man screaming. She knew and understood the terror in that scream. One day, she hoped to hear Jana and Soma make that sound. She started doing three sets of twenty-five sit-ups. Her muscles shook, her stomach cramping. Still, she pushed herself, hatred for the royal Russek family fueling her on.
When finished, she unwound the fabric covering her hands. Taking a big breath, she braced herself and looked at her fingers. Thick, red scabs covered the tips, the nails already starting to grow back. They had healed enough that they no longer needed to be covered.
The door to her cell flew open, and the interrogator entered. Allyssa scrambled to her feet. The man took an intimidating step into the cell, and she backed up against the wall, wanting to put space between them.
“You look well,” he said. “No visible marks.”
She laughed and held up her hands.
He scratched his chin. “It’s not enough.”
Before she could question him, he raised his large arm and backhanded her across the cheek. Her head hit the wall with a thud, stars exploding in her vision. She couldn’t take anymore. The soldier kicked her thigh, sending her to the ground. The muscles in her leg throbbed as if they had been shredded apart.
“That will leave noticeable injuries.” He left.
Crawling across the stone floor, she rolled onto her straw cot and curled up. It was never going to end. The pain…the torture. Maybe she should tell him what he wanted to know. No…he didn’t care—Jana did. This was all about her breaking Allyssa in order to destroy Rema and Darmik. She couldn’t give in. Ever. No matter how bad it got, she would endure for her parents.
As she lay there, images of Rema and Darmik drifted before her. Running into her parents’ bedchamber early in the morning, riding horses with her mother, sword play with her father. She clung to those memories, to the love of her family. She would survive. And then she would seek revenge.
***
The door flew open, and three soldiers entered, filling the entire space with their presence. One yanked Allyssa to her feet, dragging her out of the cell.
“Where are you taking me?” she demanded. No one answered. With one soldier in front, one holding her arm, and the third behind her, they made their way along the dark hallway of the dungeon. Were they taking her to be tortured? What else could they do to her? Images of the mutilated Emperion soldiers flashed in her mind. She wanted to peel the soldier’s hand off her arm, but her fingertips were still too tender. “Let go.” She meant for it to come out as a demand; instead, it sounded like a whimper.
The soldiers laughed. She tried to dig her heels into the ground, but the man holding her didn’t slow, despite her limp. Could she survive another interrogation? Her mind screamed at her to beg them to help her, or to fight for her freedom. But her dignity demanded she face what was coming head-on. Bloody hell. It felt like she was going to vomit. The man holding her loosened his grip. She realized her body was shaking.
They made several turns in the labyrinth before ascending three flights of stairs. Tears slid down her cheeks from the pain in her leg and the fear of the unknown. They exited the dungeon. Torches lit the dark walls and several mismatched worn rugs covered the floor. It felt like floating through a dream as she was being led along the corridors of the Russek castle. The men escorting her stopped before a large door where two sentries stood guard.
Allyssa swore she could hear her heart pounding as the door swung open to reveal the Throne Room. Approximately one hundred people milled about laughing and speaking merrily to one another. Not wanting to be dragged in front of these people and thrown at the queen’s feet, she stepped into the room on her own and limped down the aisle toward the dais, the guards surrounding, but not touching, her.
Those gathered gradually noticed her, and a hush descended over the room. Whatever was about to happen, the queen wanted these people to witness it. Taking a deep breath, Allyssa continued walking toward the dais while observing the members of court. Many of the men were huge—not only tall but broad shouldered and stocky. They had to be retired soldiers or higher-ranking military officers. These were members of the royal family’s inner circle, and Allyssa wouldn’t find sympathy among them.
Queen Jana sat on one of the Throne Chairs, Princess Shelene and Prince Soma standing to her left. The second Throne Chair remained unoccupied, which meant the king wasn’t here. Odar was nowhere in sight. Allyssa prayed he hadn’t been executed. She balled her hands into fists, willing her shaking arms to be still so her fear wouldn’t be so evident.
Shelene whispered something to Soma and laughed, the simple gesture lighting up her beautiful face. Soma, however, remained cold and hard. Allyssa stopped at the bottom of the dais, a soldier on each side of her. She raised her eyebrows, refusing to bow or kneel before Russek royalty, and waited for the queen to speak.
Jana gracefully stood, folding her hands together. “Thank you all for coming,” she addressed her court. “May I present to you Princess Allyssa of Emperion.” Several people gasped with surprise. “As some of you know, my son, Prince Soma, has brought her here to aid in our negotiations with Emperion.” She smiled and glanced down at Allyssa, a smirk spreading across her face as she took in her hands and bruises.
“I hardly think keeping me locked in the dungeon is considered negotiating,” Allyssa spat.
The queen’s smile vanished. “I beg to differ. Your parents and I are negotiating for your life.”
“You’re wasting your time. My parents won’t agree to your terms.”