A Kingdom's Cure

Chapter 1 - The Prisoner

My footsteps were barely audible compared to those of the sentinel along the cold and empty dungeon stairwell, descending further down.

Far below the ground, the only source of light hailed from the torch the guard was carrying in front of me, illuminating his silver armour and green cape on which the crest of my kingdom, a cherry tree, was embroidered in silver stitching.

We had just cleared the third level and still did not stop. The air was increasingly becoming more stale.

Still wearing my golden dinner gown and matching golden slippers, made for the warmer rooms in the castle, during these long winter months, I had just been able to throw over a black winter cape with white fox fur decorating the collar, before I had been urged the follow the sentinel, my father requiring my services. I had expected to be summoned to his chambers but had been guided here instead.

I had rarely set foot in the dungeon, and only down to the second level. I expected the sentinel to halt in front of the door that would reveal the guard station and then the cellblocks of the fourth lower level. But we kept walking. A shiver ran down my spine, not entirely from the cold.

No. There wasn't much known about the fifth and lowest level of the dungeon, and I had certainly not been educated about it. But the rumours said that only the most vicious enemies and creatures of our kingdom would be incarcerated here, never to leave, forced to spend their final days being tortured to death.

We reached the bottom of the staircase. The sentinel knocked three times on the door, and it unlocked with a sharp click.

I drew in a sharp breath, feeling I needed to brace myself for whatever lay behind, for whatever my father would want. My father and I rarely held long conversations that moved past pleasantries.

Two days ago, he had summoned me to his chambers for a private audience, which had ended in rather sharp words. He surely would not punish me, would he?

The door silently opened on a phantom wind. A small corridor behind it was illuminated by a few spare torches. Wide enough for two men to walk beside each other under a low ceiling. All carved from the same grey stone. So much darker and older than the levels above.

My heart started racing as my eyes fell upon the figures standing at the end of the rather short hallway. Where the levels above stretched far into the distance, holding one hundred cells each. Here, only ten doors on either side stretched along the hallway and at the very end, my father stood next to a tall man, in front of the last door to the left.

I stepped through the door following the centinel, my magic flaring inside, due to the phantom touch of my father's magic, locking the door behind us. Trapping me underneath layers of stone and dirt.

Pushing any fear aside as best as I could, I continued my steady steps until I halted before my father.

The sentinel bowed and took a guarding position next to the door on the right. He had not uttered a word besides the command to follow him, wholly ignoring my questions.

I bowed before my father. "Your Majesty, Father, you requested my presence?"

The other man turned to me, and I swallowed. Bane, my father's master interrogator. A tall, bulky man around forty years of age, with a grim, pale face, due to him preferring to spend time underground, doing my father's dark bidding.

Bane smiled and bowed to me. "Princess."

I nodded in his direction, my chest tightening, his smile holding only the promise of violence. There was no kindness in his face.

"Helena." My father looked down at me, his face stern and unreadable. "We have a rather delicate situation. I'm in need of your healing services and need the utmost discretion. Can you do that?"