Threatened [W&W Book 2]

Chapter 38

Anya was forced to wait inside the carriage while part of their party went inside, Jim included. Marvin entered the carriage and sat in stony faced silence while they waited. Anya gazed out the window at the darkening inner walls of the yard and wondered what was about to happen.

After what seemed like an incredibly long amount of time, the carriage door was opened by Samson. There were several armed guards standing with him, and Anya's heart leapt into her throat. Where were they going to take her?

"Come with us," said one of them, and Anya pulled herself from the carriage.

One of the men grasped her arm, and another took her other. Anya licked her lips nervously. They were obviously taking her case very seriously. It seemed that they considered her quite dangerous, or perhaps the king was simply a cautious man. She supposed that it was natural for them to fear her, considering what she was and what she had tried to do. Was she going to be placed in the king's jail? A shiver ran down her back.

The armed men began to move quickly, and Anya had to walk quickly to keep up. They walked into the castle and Anya wondered if she would be seeing the king soon. She did not know what she would say. How could she stand before the king and lie?

Anya could not understand how someone like her, a peasant, had come to be in this situation. Anya had never tried to reach beyond her means, she had never thought bigger than her own little life. Thorne had ripped her from all that was safe and comfortable and thrown her into the machinations and politics of the larger world.

How she missed her simpler life. It had been hard, but at least the problems were problems she could find a way to deal with. Everything here was too big for little Anya. Someone like her should never have a reason to enter the royal castle.

It felt like a dream, like a terrible nightmare that she could not wake up from. Anya was half pulled, half led through the castle halls, up staircases and past rich tapestries that she could barely see until they reached one door in a long line of doors. It was opened, and Anya was half pushed inside.

The armed man's voice was brisk. "You will be guarded at all times. Do not attempt to leave or you will find yourself in less accommodating quarters." He sounded sorely displeased that she was not being thrown into a moldy dungeon. She wondered how much of her story he knew. Maybe not all, but he was probably aware she was a witch or the sound of disdain might not be in his voice. Or perhaps he just loathed would be murderers.

He shut the door soundly and Anya heard the metallic sound of key in lock. She was not surprised that she had been locked in. What surprised her was the pain that she could feel at the guard's easy dismissal of her.

She should not care what a stranger thought. He did not know why she had done what she had done. It was only the same thing as the hatred and fear she had always engendered as a witch. It was simply that she deserved it now.

Anya let herself slide down the door. She could not allow herself to give in to despair now. There was still hope. There had to be. Just because she could not see it did not mean that it was not there. Surely some people were on her side. Lord Wildwood seemed to understand her.

But how selfish to hope that her intended victim would speak on her behalf.

Anya stood up and looked around the tiny room. It was a likely an extra servant's room. Her room at Wildwood had been larger. This room had only space for a narrow bed in front of a long window. She wondered if she was here rather than in the jail because of Wildwood's good graces. It was probably more than she deserved, but she was grateful.

Anya walked to the window and looked outside. She was very high above the city and could see many buildings, and the scattered lights of lanterns and candles spread out among the dwellings.