No Longer Our Sea (Book 1)

Epilogue

I had been here for hours on end, moping and weeping about like a child. Formerly, I had resided in the middle of the room, waiting desperately for that door to reopen. Now, I knew better, and I retreated back to the corner to brood about my sorrows.

When my tears had subsided, I was left with puffy, bloodshot eyes. My face and body felt weak as well, and all that was left was the heaviness of a forlorn heart.

I hugged my knees tighter as a sudden chill burst through my cell. Quickly, I made notice of the feel of my icy chains against my skin. Instantly, I tugged at my hair, trusting to wrap myself in a blanket of warmth but was given nothing in return. So, the relentless cold surrounded me still. I started to shiver.

That night, the candle went out. Along with that, any last fragment of hope I had retained. No one had come back to light it.

Not long after the candle burned out, guards came and swept me off the stone floor. They raised me up from my fragile state, untying me from the wall so they could drag me to another. I didn't put up a fight, despite knowing where we were going. I didn't kick or scream or yell or curse like I would on any other day. Instead, I willingly obliged when they towed me down the halls. The guards smiled when they realized I wouldn't be as much of a hassle.

The torture room displays a new meaning today. The weapons glisten from being freshly polished and sharpened, the fireplace roars as all kinds of things are heated upon it, candles are burned for their thick wax, and rats squeak and squirrel in their cages. To my horror, I spot a tank in the farthest corner of the room. In it swims a siren child.

This room was meant to break me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to leave until it did.

The guards strap me down to the typical chair. This time, cuffing my arms and legs to the seat tight enough to diminish any sort of movement. I don't say a single word in protest.

Josson smirks at me, remarking my shattered spirit and unusual loss in resistance. Like always, he circles me, searching my features for something new that would spark his amusement. I hang my head down as he does this, and his smile only brightens to a sickening extent.

Josson's hand reaches my chin, and he forces my head up to face him as he examines me further. "Seems like the siren cries," Josson scorns as he notes the redness of my eyes. "Maybe this won't be as hard as we thought, Princess," he snickers before letting my head go.

It falls directly back into a hang. I don't even attempt to raise it.

Josson continues to rotate me and finds my new gash on my forearm. Instantly, his hand goes to it. I wince from his cruel touch.

"New wound?" He asks.

I don't let a word slip from my mouth about it.

While holding my bandaged arm tightly, Josson uses his other hand and takes the hair closest to my ear, caressing it viciously. At this I grimace, the feeling of his hands on me makes me uncomfortable in a whole different way.

"Fine," he says. "I recognize this fabric anywhere."

My heart stops.

Josson lets me go if only to park himself in front of me where I can see him best. He stands in a place where I wouldn't have to speak for him to know the answer; where my eyes can do all the talking.

"My brother came to visit you, didn't he?" Josson questions me. I cast my gaze down, hoping not to show him what laid deep in my heart. "Look at me!" Josson commands. His yelling cocks my head up in surprise, despite my own choices. Josson glares, prying deep into the privacy of my eyes. "Well...I'll have to deal with that," he says finally when he sees what he wants.