Nightfire | The Whispering Wall #1

Eleven: Caged

Grace turned and left, only to return a moment later helping another maid to bring in a tub of water. Steam rose from the surface, reminding Nova how cold it was. She shuddered, laying the clothes on the floor and stepping into the tub, letting out a long breath of relief as warmth enveloped her legs. The other maid immediately set to sluicing her body and scrubbing her down with a coarse cloth. Grace hesitated, hanging back. Her eyes were on Nova's wounds.

"They're better than they look," Nova muttered, glancing at the butler, who had his eyes narrowed on Grace, "Just do it, or this'll be you."

Grace took the cloth and dropped it in the water with shaking hands. Her face was visibly pink even in the gloom of the cell, but Nova couldn't tell if it was tears or embarrassment. Perhaps she'd never seen another woman naked before. Perhaps it was all three.

She stared blankly ahead as they worked, jaw set. Grace was timid about washing her back, taking care not to scrape the wounds, but the other girl had no such reservations. By the time she was dried and dressed her back was bleeding again.

"They don't want you yet," Brillan told her as he led her out by the chain, as if she cared. "You have time to eat and be presentable, and then I will return to get you."

She directed the sour look that had elicited at her feet. She might even have spit on the floor if she hadn't known from experience that she'd get three more lashes and another night in the cage.

Somehow, the indignity of it all never eased even after ten years.

As a royal slave, she wasn't kept in the prison block, but in a small dungeon under Faellian's personal quarters. It had two branching passageways beyond the door, one leading to Faellian's bedchamber and the other to the pantry. The pantry passageway was less used, and the squeaks and skitterings of shadelings accompanied them along the way. Nova caught glimpses of one or two before they scattered as Brillan tried to stamp on them.

"Vile things," the butler muttered.

"I think they're cute," Nova said. The butler tsked and yanked on her chain.

"They're vile," he repeated. "Diseased, greedy, filthy scavengers."

"Are we talking about shadelings or humans?"

Brillan shot her a dark look and didn't speak to her again. He cursed as a small pack of them darted around their legs, little more than dark puffs of fur on bandy legs, and she heard Grace squeak behind her. The slop of water and a hissed warning from the other maid followed. Though Nova didn't hear the words, Grace's response was acerbic and her companion didn't answer.

At least the girl had a backbone.

Though a backbone wasn't always a good thing, she supposed, because Grace still hadn't worked out that it was a smarter idea to avoid her.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing she said as they were left in the kitchens, approaching Nova where she had settled in the corner with a small bowl of gruel.

Nova glanced at her before shovelling more food down. Between mouthfuls, she replied, "What for?"

"I don't know. Giving you the pin, I guess. Washing the wounds too hard. I just....sorry."

"You didn't know what I was going to do with the pin. The wounds needed to be washed."

"And?"

"And that's why I don't understand what in Vestra's name you're apologising for."

Grace frowned and sat on the bench beside her. Nova stiffened.

"I haven't heard of Vestra."

"Not surprised," Nova mumbled, scraping the bottom of the bowl with her spoon. "She's a Caelumese goddess, not a Nictavian one." At Grace's blank look, she added, "A goddess worshipped by angels. My people. She has no Order in the Reach, that's why you've never heard of her."