Dear Readers,
Firstly, I wanted to thank you for your responses, both votes and comments. I appreciate all the comments you have left on the site or emailed me. The praises give me the confidence to continue and the criticism pushes me to be a better writer. Although I hope my writing speaks for itself, I have responded to your comments at the end of the chapter if you would like to read through them. Again, thank you and don't forget to leave a note about what worked and didn't work in the story.
Titania123
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Emera's eyes slowly opened, focusing on a pillow near her face. On her stomach, her hair was strewn about. She lifted up onto her elbows, wincing at the pain throughout her body. Her face was still sore from Jenner's fists, and she felt a dull ache between her thighs. All of her muscles were sore from exhaustive use, and she was incredibly thirsty and hungry. She was also naked, she noted. The front of her body was still red with a few bruises over some of her bony prominences.
The sun still sat below the horizon, gaining energy before it rose in the morning sky. The cool air drifted easily in the windows, sending a chill through her. She grabbed a sheet and tied it around her, partly to warm herself and partly to hide her injuries. It then occurred to her that she was no longer bound and was free to move about. She wondered just how free she was.
Emera made for the door, took a deep breath and tugged at the handle. It was bolted; she was locked inside. She huffed and looked around the dimly lit room. The fire that had raged in the night was nothing more than smoldering embers.
She put a couple of logs on the fire, nursing it back to life. While she slept, someone had brought up a plate of food and a pitcher of wine and sat them on the small table. Her tattered dress that had been shredded from her body was gone. She noticed the leather bottle with the water Edrich had left. She opened it and drank, grateful to relieve her parched throat. When her thirst was quenched, she began picking at her food. Though she should have been starved, as she mulled over the night's events, sickening apprehension crept up on her turning her stomach to knots. Despite the discomfort, she ate knowing she would need her strength.
She sat on the edge of the fire pit, warming herself. Slowly, she threaded through the words and deeds of the night. She tried to set aside emotion to allay the overwhelming anxiety that threatened to overtake her.
She was still a captive, for what purposes remained unknown, however. He hadn't bothered to question her further. He only seemed interested in dominating her desire while she fulfilled his. Without bidding, the passion from the night before swept over her, and she suddenly felt warm at the thought of his touch on her lips and neck and breasts and...she stood and began pacing.
She had succumbed to his touch just like he had taunted. Not only had she enjoyed it, she'd begged! She would have let him take her soul away if he'd asked. She'd been a mindless idiot. She had so easily given in to her body's hunger. Even now, the pull of her desire for him was overpowering. Despite any logical argument against him she could devise, she knew her longing for him would forever pulse through her veins.
And that sickened her. He was her enemy now. He was at this very minute poising his army to decimate everything in Adalynd in his bid to conquer. Her mind quickly flew through her confrontation with him in his tent. He had told the general to prepare to defend against an attack and to also prepare the troops to begin the siege. Her heart began thumping wildly at that. He had also called for Glenna's capture. The whole of her country is on the brink of a devastating attack, and she let herself be seduced by the leader. She clenched her fists in grave determination, squeezing so hard they shook.
If she let him rule her, she wasn't fit to be queen. She shut her eyes at the thought of her consequences. It seemed that her presence in Lidio was the cause for the upcoming battle. It was she who had catapulted the entire affair out of order and into chaos. She steeled herself against the onslaught of guilt.
I will defend my people. I will be as strong as any man and prove I am fit to rule,
she thought.
She began pacing again as she planned. She had to warn her father, save Glenna, prepare for battle, something! She felt so entirely impotent at the top of the ridiculous tower. As she saw it, there were several ways out of her present predicament. Firstly, Edrich would kill her immediately, either by his sword or some barbarous torture. Despite the hatred she had seen in his eyes, she didn't think that was likely considering he had provided sustenance for her after he had used her. That reasoning brought her to her second option. He would keep her as a slave, for sexual deeds or otherwise. This was the most likely solution since he kept her alive and secluded. If he had meant to interrogate her further, she thought he would have chained her back up and withheld rations. However, she had the freedom to move about in the room at least, with appetizing food and wine. The question then became, how long would he keep her?
Would he plan to use her a few more times and then kill her or throw her to his men or simply make a common slave out of her, or would he keep her indefinitely? She allowed her mind to wonder down both possibilities before her thoughts drifted to the reasoning behind each. When she felt somewhat warmed by the possibility he would want her forever, she shook her head and scolded herself.
This line of thinking is irrelevant. If he plans on doing anything with me any longer than today, I have a chance to make it home. I don't care what his plans would be and why he would make them,
she lied to herself.
If he wasn't going to outright kill her, she needed a plan of escape. However, before escape, she wondered if an alternative could be reached. Could she negotiate with him somehow? Would finally telling him she was the princess and her entire scheme produce any fruit?
Not likely. The dolt wouldn't want to trust me enough to believe it,
she bemoaned. Plus, at this point, she didn't want him as an ally anymore. Granted, not all men could be as kind and gentle as her father, but at least they could be honorable. She felt a little dejected at the thought that war was now inevitable, despite all her planning and maneuvering to avoid it.
She felt used, both physically and mentally. Her thoughts drifted over what Jenner had said. The king had laughed at her? Even though she was a woman, Emera knew her skills with the bow rivaled any man's. The soldiers in the tent, she remembered, had stared at her with awe. The young one said they were all impressed by what the king had told them; he had extended his protection over her since she had saved his life. She felt the dissonance in what she witnessed and what the snake Jenner had claimed. Slowly, her initial distrust of the man reemerged, warning her that he was a liar and manipulator.
Emera was pulled from her thoughts when a screeching click indicated someone was unlocking the door. She stood and tied the sheet about her more tightly. The sickening butterflies returned to flutter in her stomach as she waited to see Edrich's intimidating form. Relief washed over when a very thin, old lady carrying a tray walked through the door.
Emera noted the wary look the lady gave her as she nodded and approached the table. She placed the meal down while picking up the dirty plate. As she turned to leave, Emera reached out for her, calling, "Please, what is your name?" The woman only turned to look in a fearful manner. "My name is Emera. Please, won't you tell me who I am to thank for this food?" she tried to smile pleasantly to ease the woman's tense countenance.
The older lady did straighten a little more confidently at that. "I am Alma, miss. My husband is the cook."
"You are married to Leonard?" Emera asked amiably, brightening at the mention of the sweet old man.
Alma mirrored her obviously pleased face. "Yes, you know my Leonard?"
"Yes, I helped him in the king's tent when I was traveling. He was very kind to me because I actually do not think I helped at all. I'm not a very good cook, you see." She smiled sweetly, blushing at the admittance, looking sheepishly at the frail old lady.
"Ah, I see." But her face suddenly dropped as she realized the young girl was obviously a prisoner. And by the look of her dress, or lack thereof, undoubtedly the king had availed himself of her beautiful charms. She noticed her face looked ill-used and wondered at the state of her. She had never known her king to behave in such a dishonorable manner before. She knew she should leave and curtly bowed.
"Please, I know it may be asking a lot, but, I am rather cold, you see, and my own gown was..." Emera's eyes blurred with tears, "taken. It was so dirty and torn. I was hoping I might have a dress, maybe a robe as well? Please, I am so cold." She gave a small shiver to punctuate her need.
Alma looked concerned, both for the girl's plight and also the danger at angering the king if she aided his prisoner against his wishes. However, the kind lady could not refuse such a pitiable sight as the beautiful, shivering girl. She gave a slight, reluctant nod. "I will see what I can do, miss." She finally turned and left.
As Emera began to eat her meal, she sighed.
Well, that is one less thing I will need to worry about, should I need to escape.
She decided she would keep the clothes hidden until it was time for her to leave. That brought her to her next hurdle. Exactly how was she to escape from a locked tower?
She began to thoroughly examine the room, searching for any weakness or clue. Alas, no stone was movable, the solid wood door only locked from the other side, and the outside walls were not scalable. Obviously, the only way out would be when someone opened the door. Thus far, only two people had entered the room. If she planned for it, she might be able to subdue him and make good her escape. She'd rather not implicate the innocent woman during her flight, so she would leave her be if at all possible.
Another possibility occurred to her. He may not keep her in this room forever, but send her to sleep in the servants quarter, giving her more freedom. Of course, what would precipitate a change of rooms?
Trust
, she mused. He would have to trust that she would stay, not leave, not betray him. She could pretend to reluctantly want him, demonstrate a need for him that would keep her bound to him. She winced at the thought of that. The problem lied in the fact that she wouldn't be pretending. She didn't trust herself to allow him to touch her again; she would be completely under his control. It was better, for her own resolve, to openly deny him and never again submit to any of his wishes, no matter the pain in the refusal. Back to designing a more straightforward escape plan.
The ray of light that poured in with the bright morning moved across the floor as the sun rose high in the sky. Emera yawned loudly. Acknowledging she was still exhausted from the night before, she went to sit on the bed. She wasn't so comfortable with her situation as to lay down fully vulnerable so she propped herself up against the headboard. Despite the slightly disagreeable position, she was soon asleep.
