𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎(𝙰𝙲𝙾𝚃𝙰𝚁)

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

song of the chapter: would've could've should've by taylor swift

"give me back my girlhood. it was mine first"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝖋𝖊𝖞𝖗𝖊

Rhys kept frowning at the amulet as we hiked the slope of the Prison, so steep that at times we had to crawl on our hands and knees.

Higher and higher we climbed, and I drank from the countless little streams that gurgled through the bumps and hollows in the moss-and-grass slopes. All around the mist drifted by, whipped by the wind, whose hollow moaning drowned out our crunching footsteps.

When I caught Rhys looking at the necklace for the tenth time, I said, "What?"

"She gave you that."

Not a question.

"It must be serious, then," I said. "The risk with—"

"Don't say anything you don't want others hearing." He pointed to the stone beneath us. "The inmates have nothing better to do than to listen through the earth and rock for gossip. They'll sell any bit of information for food, sex, maybe a breath of air."

I could do this; I could master this fear. Amren had gotten out. And stayed out. And the amulet—it'd keep me free, too.

"I'm sorry," I said. "About yesterday." I'd stayed in bed for hours, unable to move or think.

Rhys held out a hand to help me climb a particularly steep rock, easily hauling me up to where he perched at its top. It had been so long—too long—since I'd been outdoors, using my body, relying on it. My breathing was ragged, even with my new immortality.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for," he said. "You're here now." But enough of a coward that I never would have gone without that amulet. He added with a wink, "I won't dock your pay."

I was too winded to even scowl. We climbed until the upper face of the mountain became a wall before us, nothing but grassy slopes sweeping behind, far below, to where they flowed to the restless gray sea. Rhys drew the sword from his back in a swift movement.

"Don't look so surprised," he said.

"I've—never seen you with a weapon." Aside from the dagger he'd grabbed to slit Amarantha's throat at the end—to spare me from agony.

"Cassian would laugh himself hoarse hearing that. And then make me go into the sparring ring with him."

"Can he beat you?"

"Hand-to-hand combat? Yes. He'd have to earn it for a change, but he'd win." No arrogance, no pride. "Cassian is the best warrior I've encountered in any court, any land. He leads my armies because of it."

I didn't doubt his claim. And the other Illyrians "Azriel and Astraea, their hands. The scars, I mean," I said. "Where did they come from?"

Rhys was quiet a moment. Then he said too softly, "Their mother was a slave to Astraea's father. When he got her pregnant, he threw her out into the snow. She began working for Azriel's father. Five years later, he got her pregnant with Azriel. He had two legitimate sons. Much older. Both cruel and spoiled. They learned it from their mother, the lords wife. For the eleven years that Azriel and Raea lived in their keep, she saw to it they were kept in a cell with no window, no light. She let them out for an hour every day—let them see their mother for an hour once a week. They weren't permitted to train, or fly, or any of the things their Illyrian instincts roared at them to do."