Memories in the Moonlight

Chapter 14

Her one wish was granted, Harlow would get to see her final sunset. The King seemed to have a moment of compassion, and decided that he would allow her to soak in the beauty of her realm after her trial. She was sure it would be a fleeting moment, but it would be enough. It would be a good ending point for her, something to remember fondly.

The full Royal Guard had come to retrieve her for an assembly with the King. Two of them had held each of her elbows, their fingers digging in painfully. Kiran had led them all up to the throne room, and Harlow had been thrown down in front of the dais. She didn't see a point in fighting back this time, she could speak at her trial. The meeting went smoother than she expected, the King was back to his uncaring and nonchalant nature when he arranged the trial.

After the quick meeting, she was led back down to her cell by only the two guards who held her. She knew one of them as a childhood bully, Malik. He was always pushing Fae around to get his rocks off, and didn't care who he hurt in the process. The other Harlow didn't recognize, he was older and didn't speak as they walked.

When they reached her cell, Malik opened the door with a gloved hand and shoved her inside. Harlow's foot snagged on an uneven rock and she hit the ground hard, head bouncing off of the ground. She let out a pained yelp, pushing herself up with the palms of her hands.

Immediately she could feel blood pouring down from her forehead and nose. It was hot and furious, spreading like a fast-moving river.
"That's the least that you deserve, half-breed." Malik spat, slamming the cell bars behind her. He motioned for the older Fae to walk away, waiting until he and Harlow were alone before speaking again. "Next time I won't be so nice. Next time you'll know what true power feels like inside of you." His voice was a whisper, words slicing like a blade.

Harlow cringed away from him, shuffling her aching body across the floor to the far side of the cell. Fear rose in her throat, mingling with the blood spreading across her chest. She closed her eyes slightly, turning away until she heard the sound of footsteps fade down the hall. Harlow held back the tears that were blooming behind her lids, and lifted a shaking hand to her face.

Her nose was definitely broken. A simple touch revealed the crookedness and intense pain. There was also a small gash along the top of her forehead. She did what she could to remove the blood from her face with the bottom of her shirt. Down the dark hall, Harlow heard the sounds of wildly rattling chains and snarling.

Harlow groaned as she wiped at her nose, touching it gingerly sent pain shooting across her face. Holding her breath, she made one quick snapping motion to the left. A howl of pain escaped her lips, and she felt her vision tunneling. Her nose was back to being straighter, but the blood kept on pouring. At least it would heal relatively quickly.

Amara began shrieking in rage and desperation. Fae blood was somewhat of a treat for most creatures, but it sent demons into a frenzy. "Give me, give me, give me!" Amara's voice dropped into the haunting pitch that it had beforehand. She was making wild noises and slamming something into the stone floor.

Harlow had never been more grateful to be locked away on her own. "Fuck off!" Harlow shouted back, unable to keep her emotions in check.

There was no point in saying anything, though. Amara was so worked up that it was as if she couldn't hear anything. Harlow breathed deeply as Amara screeched, laying her head back against the cool wall. She closed her eyes again, trying to push through the remainder of the pain. Fae could get hurt just like anything else but they typically healed quickly.

After what felt like ages, the blood on Harlow's face dried and Amara calmed down. The dungeon fell back into quiet, aside from some shuffling from Amara every so often. She reached up towards her nose, relieved when no pain resulted from touching it. . For the first time in a long time, Harlow was actually scared of what might be done with her. If she was throne out and exiled, creeps like Malik could do what they pleased to her with no fear of repercussions.