VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

31

Ainsley rarely ventured into the prison cells tucked beneath the old castle's foundation, but it was still easily recognizable as such, even to her. The interior of the block she had been dragged into was not illuminated by anything, too far underground to even allow for a small window that would let in a weak stream of sunlight and show the passage of time. No, this cell was dark and cold, moisture settling on the bare skin of her arms the same way it dropped steadily off in one corner.

Even though her eyes had adjusted since, it was still nearly impossible to see. The roughly-hewn, oppressive stonework was mottled shades of dark grey, broken only by the heavy wooden door, a smudge of black against the impermeable darkness. A small window at the top opened onto the corridor beyond, but Ainsley's position didn't allow for her to look out.

She never could've imagined that she, surrounded by refinery and respect her whole life, would be treated in such a way. She was sitting against the far wall, held in place by manacles that dug harshly into her wrists, attached to chains that hung from the wall with so little slack she couldn't even get to her feet. She had only been here for an hour or two, but she already knew her wrists would be rubbed raw before long.

Ainsley tipped her head against the cold stone, letting out a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time, there didn't seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel, no spark of hope. There was no way out of this one.

Her father would leave her here to rot unless she submitted to him, agreed to follow his orders once more. And Gael was most likely dead—Gael, the first person she had felt such love for. The crew would flee the moment they got the chance, with no idea of what had happened to Ainsley or their captain. They had no way to attempt a rescue, because they wouldn't know where she was or how to reach her. No matter what possibilities Ainsley turned over in her mind, every one seemed as hopeless as the last.

Then again, she was a princess, cursed with a dragon's power and in love with a noble-turned-pirate. Maybe there had never been any hope of a happy ending for her.

She just wished she hadn't dragged Gael down with her.

The tears she had tried to restrain earlier forced their way out, dampening her face amidst her trembling, sobbing breaths. Once again, she had ruined a good thing for herself, but this time, she had hurt others in the process, too. Her chest felt as though it had been staked clear through the center, and suddenly, she understood how people could die of heartbreak.

She didn't die, however, no matter how much she wished for it. Instead, sleep finally came over her after what felt like hours, though no peace or rest came with the tormenting dreams. It was no deep sleep, either, not in the discomfort of her position. Her shoulders and wrists were already crying out in agony, and were she ever released, she knew she would struggle to lift her arms above her head for days on end.

Finally, she was woken by the sound of the cell door scraping roughly against the stone floor, and dim torchlight flickered in, though it seemed blinding to her unaccustomed eyes. Blinking, she squinted at the figure that approached, feeling bile rise in her throat. The very appearance of her father was enough to sicken her.

The king knelt down on the cold stone, coming close enough that she could make out his features in the darkness. She swallowed, wishing her hands were free so she could rub the tear stains from her face and maintain some semblance of dignity.

"Have you had time to think about the smart choice to make, Ainsley?"

She stayed quiet, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. She realized now that while he wanted her to give in, he also liked seeing her angry. He liked tormenting her and being the cause of her rage. He got some sort of twisted satisfaction from it, so, she tried to push down a biting response.