Blackwell lets out an annoyed grunt. “Carry her,” he orders.
I’m chucked over a shoulder almost instantly, the pressure on my relatively empty stomach knocking the wind out of me, blood rushing to my head.
The unlocking of doors almost brings me relief, wanting to know what—I’m dropped back down on my feet, my knees buckling as the guard roughly grabs the rope around my arms to keep me steady.
Shoved forward, my body stiff as I worry I’ll hit something, until the fabric is ripped off of my eyes andfinallyeverything is taken off of me.
The space is actually quite nice, far from the dungeon I was anticipating. It’s a circular room, and even has a hearth. Abed,with what looks like fresh linens. I raise my brows in confusion, shocked at all the amenities as there’s even a rug on the floor.
Only one window, though.
As soon as I step inside to maybe look out and see where I am, the door is shut behind me. I don’t bother turning around. The subtle click of the lock tells me all I need to know.
I’m alone.
For now.
It’s beenat least two days.
The only person to visit me is a woman that goes by the name of Marissa. She’s a fanatic of Misery and probably thinks I’m royalty, and I bet would kill someone just to sniff his robe.
I already miss the noirs of Skull’s Row.
I spend every moment plotting, planning. Devising backup plans to backup plans. Trying to decide on how I want to behave. Do I let Jesper do whatever he wants, knowing that I’m only working to foil him, and that I can take advantage of the rule that Misery said I am to remain un-accosted? Or do I fight him because, again, I can’t be accosted?
It’s on the third, uninvited morning that I stare at the cold, tower window for the entirety of the day, eyes raw and reddened from crying as I misseveryone,and it truly hits hard I have no idea when I’ll see them again. What if freeing the sirens means once I’macrossthe waters?
For your family. For Soren’s sister, who has suffered more than you.
The bite of loneliness reminds me that Anya has to be feeling these terrible emotions even more than me, as at leastthisis an official bedroom. No doubt she’s in a cell; at least, I’d assume as much.
She needs me to keep my head straight.
I can do this; IknowI can. I waited in Coalfell for all that time, didn’t I? Maybe I’m more like my father than I realize, in that we’re both extremely proficient in patience when it concerns the safety of others.
Patience doesn’t matter, though, when I havelessthan two weeks before whatever happens…happens. I need to take advantage of these people not knowing me or my behavior patterns. I need to act, andsoon. My fingers find the spot on my neck—Cypress helped me. That has to count for something.
I’m jolted out of my miserable thoughts at the sound of my locks being undone. The heavy sound of a latch is lifted, the door finally opening.
Marissa saunters in with her tight smile, which fades as she looks at me with such perplexity it’s as if I’ve offended her. “Why do you cry? Is the food not to your liking? Has it given you a stomachache?”
My speaking is more controlled than normal, knowing that no matter what plan I create, being in good standing is myonlyway closer to Misery. “I am crying because I am not supposed to be here,” I gently say, trying to play the victim with her.
“You will provide Jesper with the lineage needed to rule in Morvock’s new world,” she says, almost too softly, as if I’m a child that doesn’t understand why wars happen. “If it’s the babies you’re worried about, they’ll be completely taken care of when you’ve offered your skin to Morvock.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, suppressing an exasperated groan. “I—suppose,” I let out, realizing empathy is not what I'll receive from someone who views me as lucky.
“Maybe you’d like some more tea,” she offers with exaggerated kindness.
I know exactly what that tea is. One sip of it, and my energy zeroes out as I become a shell of myself. It’s what they use when they want me to go anywhere or do anything, like take a bath. “Yes, that’d be great. I could use the forgetfulness,” I lie. I’ll just pour it out the window and let it trickle down the stone and then pretend to sleep.
It’s so funny, because when Soren first took me, I was willing to fuck my way out of this. Now, that thought feels so juvenile and repulsive. I want to interact with everyone here as minimally as possible.
It’s like something in me knew he was my person.
Time blurs once more as Marissa fetches my tea, only to once again swiftly leave the amber liquid sitting so peacefully in the white teacup. As soon as the footsteps fade away, I move to the window to dump the tea. As I slowly do it, so it’s not pouring down in case it were to drip on something or someone, I lift my gaze to stare at the vastness of the ocean that my tower overlooks.
The doorknob jiggles, and I press the teacup to my lips and start to drink thetiniestsip so it might be on my breath. I’m surprised when I see Jesper, his presence drenching the room in discomfort.
