Fires Wash Away Fears

Chapter 1

Fires Wash Away Fears

Prologue

It's late. Not for Moroi who love the night, the darkness that can sometimes swallow you whole, the stars that seem so cold and distant like royalty unbound, and the whisper of the wind as it dances in the deepest shadows. No, this was night for the humans and day for the Moroi.

In the darkest part of the royal court, where no Moroi ever visited and guardians only did when forced to work there, was a small concrete block. It wasn't very big, and not very small either but it was where Rose Hathaway had spent the last 41 days. It was also where she would spend her last.

Chapter 1

Rose

I lay on the tiny little bed that was built into my wall. What they thought I could do with a bed was anyone's guess but apparently as the famous murderess of the queen, I was dangerous. Even with a lumpy mattress and bloodstained sheets. I sighed and looked around again at the miniscule jail cell that I had been occupying and sighed again.

The grey walls were getting real boring now, and not for the first time I wished that my "lawyer" would hurry the fuck up and get me out of here. I hadn't heard from him since we had been to the trail that wasn't a trial and they had agreed that there was a chance I could be guilty. It was all so confusing. I didn't really understand, even now, why they couldn't just try me and either find me guilty or not guilty.

This time I kicked the wall opposite. The room really was small enough that I didn't have to stretch much to do so.

"Arrrrrrgghhhh," I moaned, "could one of you at least tell me what's going on in the outside world?" No reply. The 12 guardians stationed outside my cell kept a firm grip on their stoic masks. This, of course, only made me angrier.

I jumped off the bed and ran up to the bars where I could see them better. I hoped that there would be someone there who I knew, or who had witnessed me saving Lissa before, but I didn't recognise even 1 of the faces there.

"Damn!" I muttered. I kept kicking the bars, hoping that even if they didn't tell me anything they would at least lose the guardian masks that only fuelled my fear.

Because no matter what I let the outside world see, and that wasn't much seeing as I had told the guardians I wanted no visitors, I was afraid. And that fear grew and grew everyday until suddenly it wasn't fear anymore. It was the almost eerie sixth sense that the terminally ill seem to have: the certainty that no matter what, I would never leave this jail cell. I was going to die in here. Well, maybe not in here but I knew I was never going to leave this cell, except to go to my execution.