Clash of Captains

Chapter 18

The grey morning light smacked Devyn in the face as she awoke the next morning. She rolled over to stare at the wall. The chancellor's words from the previous day kept spinning through her mind. Stick to your place. Stick to your place. Stick to your place. Stick—

Devyn forced herself to sit up, and sat for a moment with her head against the wall. She let a breath escape her lips, dragged it out until her lungs screamed for air. And then she refilled them with one long breath. She stood and gathered her clothes. Silky grey tunic, thick grey trousers with a braided black belt, and then her steel-toed boots. She stood in front of her full length mirror, staring herself down as she shrugged her shoulders into her crimson brocade jacket. As she carefully buttoned each golden button, Devyn studied her appearance. There were shadows beneath her dark eyes, and... Is that..? She brushed her fingers across a silvery line on her cheek. After finding that it wasn't simply a line of dirt, Devyn realized that it was the scar Aneira had given her, a reminder of that sharp sword slashing at her. And then she remembered something that would undoubtedly cheer her up.

She managed a small smile as she finished fixing the collar of her jacket. I'm going to pay the captain a little visit. That'll fix my mood. Devyn left the cell that was her room and departed for the only other cell she was interested in seeing.

Devyn nodded to the guards standing at either side of the entrance to the dungeons, ducking her head slightly to slip into the narrow entryway. She straightened as the tunnel widened, dismissing a guard who offered to escort her down. It wouldn't be any fun if she had the dungeon master watching her the whole while. She didn't know how long she planned on spending there teasing the prisoner, after all, and she didn't want anyone to feel forced to wait on her. Devyn let her fingers graze the roughly cut stone walls beside her as she made her way deeper into the dungeon and the labyrinth of cells that awaited her there. She finally made a sharp turn, counting the rows of hallways as she passed. One, two, three... and four. She then veered into the fourth hall, pulling her shoulders back to muster up all her confidence — both fake and real — to prepare for a dramatic entrance. Finally, the barred door of the last cell came into view on her right, and she fished the ring of keys she had taken with her out of her pocket.

As the door clicked open and Devyn entered the cell, her eyes darted immediately to the figure chained to the wall on her right. She eyed the figure cautiously before collecting the rickety three-legged stool from the center of the cell and scooting it closer to the prisoner. As she settled herself down, the figure raised her head, her long blonde hair cascading down her face. Devyn stared directly into Aneira's grey eyes for a moment. Then she moved her gaze to rest on the wall before her instead.

"Why are you here?" It took a moment for Devyn to realize that it was Aneira who had spoken, even though there was no one else in the room that could have been the source of the words. "Did you sort things out with your best friend the chancellor?"

Devyn gritted her teeth at the snide remark. "Actually, I just came here to torment you a little." She spun around on the stool to face the prisoner fully, her legs splayed to either side, and rested her elbows on her knees. From the angle Aneira's chains were fixed to the wall, Devyn's head was several inches above her, allowing her to loom over the blonde. She hesitated for a moment before reaching out a hand, tracing a line down the young woman's cheek, the same path of the scar which graced her own face. Aneira flinched slightly, and something in her eyes flickered at the feather-light touch. Surprise? Anger? Regret? Devyn thought she recognized the emotion as something she felt herself, and so she pulled back her hand before Aneira could see it behind her eyes.

"The chancellor wanted to offer you something, something you would care too much to lose. Perhaps I'm here right now to strike that deal myself." She let the words hang in the air around them. An amused smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as Aneira recoiled slightly, her gaze putting on a blatant display of shock and fear. Then the blonde narrowed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

"No. No, you can't be here for that. You're just messing with me. Trying to intimidate me. You said you were here to torment me; I assume you're doing just that." Aneira sputtered. Devyn watched her heart pound a ferocious beat through a vein that bulged in the blonde's neck.

"Maybe," Devyn purred, tilting her head. She had forgotten how much she loved this. There was power that came in teasing someone under your control. "Or maybe not. Are you willing to bet on it, blondie?"

Once again, the panic in Aneira's gaze was visible. There was something the chancellor must have said, something that Devyn hadn't heard, that made her really believe that something was on the line. Or maybe she's just thinking about something she couldn't stand to lose, Devyn thought to herself. That's what makes her vulnerable. I don't have any of those things. There's absolutely nothing in the entire world that I care about enough to make it into a weakness.

"No," Aneira said again. Her voice was barely a whisper, quivering at the edge of each syllable she spoke. "You— you don't know what he was going to offer me at all. You're just here to play around with me. You know nothing." She fell silent, and her eyes drifted from Devyn down to the floor. "Why... why did you get involved yesterday? In the throne room. You stepped in, and it... Well, I guess it saved me from whatever the chancellor was going to say. So... why? Why did you step in at all?"

Devyn sucked in a breath. Those words had suddenly drained all the entertainment out of her visit. She'd come here to tease the prisoner, not to talk about herself. She looked up at the stone ceiling, watching as the light from the lantern just outside the door flickered across its uneven surface. Then she moved her eyes back down to Aneira. She nearly fell off the stool in surprise upon seeing that the blonde's grey-eyed gaze was fixed intently upon her.

"I just..." She rolled her shoulders, releasing the tension that was gathered there. "Kemble has a tendency to... to overstep. To claim more than his fair share of power. And so, when I heard that he was planning on talking to you in private, instead of having me there, I just... I wanted to keep things under control."

Aneira was quiet for a moment. Then a timid smile crawled across her lips. "Kemble — the chancellor — seems a little... tyrannical, don't you think? If he's trying to take over, steal the power that you hold for himself, isn't that—"

"No." The word rang out through the cell, echoing off of the stone walls. The sound was sharp, perhaps sharper than Devyn had meant, and it successfully silenced the talkative prisoner.

"No," she repeated, her voice quiet but cold. In control. "You don't know anything about Kemble, and you don't know anything about Dreg. You don't know anything about me." Surprisingly enough, it was the last word that made Aneira flinch. "You are nothing but a prisoner here, so don't go around thinking you hold any power over me or my decisions. You don't get to talk to me like our roles are switched." She stood so abruptly that the stool toppled over. She did not bother to right it as she moved to leave.

"Wow. Y'know, I almost feel sorry for you, Devyn," Aneira murmured, just loud enough for Devyn to hear above the echo of her footsteps. "You really have no idea what's going on."

Something inside of Devyn seemed to snap as she stormed out of the cell, locking the door as quickly as she could manage, and left the dungeon in a rush.