The Assassin Princess

Alone and Scared

When Calira came to, she was no longer in the carriage or excruciating pain. She was surprised to find her wounds tended to and a soft mat beneath her sore body. She looked around and frowned when she noticed she was alone in what she assumed was a cell.

A thick wood door seemed to be the only way in or out of the small room she was in. There were no windows or any other openings of any sort. It made escaping unnoticed next to impossible. Calira glanced down at her injuries. She wouldn't lose her legs, but walking would be difficult for the next few weeks, if she lived that long. She thought back to the man who had so easily immobilized her. This didn't seem like something he would do. He had wanted her to suffer in agony; this was just mildly uncomfortable. She briefly wondered if she had been given medicine for the pain since her legs now just throbbed with a dull ache. She was grateful, but the change in care bothered her immensely. It meant something much bigger was going on and it irked her that she didn't know exactly what it was.

"Alaric," the name of her fiancée slipped past her lips without much thought. She wondered if he had returned to the palace when he learned of her kidnapping. She hoped he had, if only to comfort Triscan. Zarek and Wesley were no doubt looking for her. Calira glanced around her prison once more and when she was satisfied that she was good and alone, she cried.

For the first time in a very long time, Calira was genuinely frightened and there was no one to comfort her. She was truly and absolutely alone. She buried her face in her hands and continued to sob. According to Zarek, she had never truly needed to be consoled. He used to brag that even as an infant, she only cried if she was hungry. Once he fed her, she was content.

In the beginning stages of her training as an assassin, any time she was injured she didn't cry. Zarek would whine about how she didn't need him and how it hurt his pride as both her guardian and her mentor. However, deep down she knew he was proud of her independence. An assassin's lifestyle is a solitary one. Loneliness would constantly be a companion. If someone wasn't able to handle that, they weren't truly meant to be an assassin.

Perhaps she had grown soft in her time as a princess and soon-to-be queen. Perhaps she had grown used to having human companions no matter where she ventured. She had never admitted she was happy but she had grown content. That had been her downfall it seemed. Sarana would never have let herself be led into a trap. Sarana would have left all of the ridiculous menial wedding tasks to someone else. Instead, she had been picking out flowers and meeting wedding guests. Wedding guests who had official enough documents to get into the palace and enough knowledge of the staff to coerce at least one maid into helping them. No doubt that was the Countess's doing. Fury started to replace the fear and uncertainty.

"Stupid girl," she growled to herself. She angrily wiped at the tears that leaked out of her eyes. She didn't need to show such weakness. She needed to focus on escaping and then ripping Veronique DuBare's heart out of her chest. The traitorous woman deserved nothing less.

It was hours before Calira heard anything other than the sound of her own heart beating. Of course, she couldn't be sure of exactly how much time had passed since she only had the lantern hanging by the door as a way to tell time. The oil had gone down significantly so it had been a few hours at least.

"....we do... she's awake?" Muffled voices came from the other side of the door.

"...wouldn't move....injured..." It was hard to make out every word, but Calira got the gist of what they were saying. Whoever was on the other side of the door thought she'd be vulnerable and defenseless. That she'd be easy to take care of. That she was not a threat.

They were fools. She was an assassin. She was Sarana. She was Death itself. The only way she would no longer be a threat was if she was dead and she wasn't. Not yet, at least. She could push past the pain and since they would clearly be expecting a weak cowardly girl, she'd easily ambush them and run. She had no idea where she was and she had no weapons. She was at a disadvantage and she knew it. First she'd escape this room and then figure out the rest as she went along. It wasn't how she liked to do things but it'd suffice.