Celeste
The man's screams, which I suspect are caused by his nails and teeth being pulled out, seem endless. Without a clock, I don't know how long they've been at him, but the amount of watery soup pushed through the bars tells me it's been about eight hours.
Night falls, and the discomfort grows. My back and legs feel as though they're rusted from the cold and prolonged sitting. I haven't felt my shoulders in days due to the endless posture imposed by the chains, and my lifelines are catching larger flames. My thoughts can't seem to focus on anything other than the burning pain. I no longer know if it's getting worse or if my thoughts are making it worse than it actually is.
Finding a comfortable position seems as impossible as the man ceasing his screams. I push my legs in a different direction, shift my back against the cold wall, and try to rotate my shoulders.
'Give up, princess,' a voice from the cell across from me says. I can't see who is inside due to the darkness, but the voice is cracked enough to indicate an older person.
Stubbornly, I turn my legs again and let the chains clatter against the stones.
'You know, princess, nobody believed it, that you were the last one,' the heavy, crackling voice continues. My arms fall still behind my back as I listen to the man's voice.
'The daughter of the king himself, Frander's wife, we thought it was impossible. It wasn't until the posters and newspaper headlines came that people started to believe. The sword had been hanging over our heads for a while, but when the first night rider fell, everyone held their breath. No one expected you to be the one to endure the longest out of the four,' the man sighs, recounting.
The information doesn't surprise me. I wouldn't have believed it either if I were them.
'Why are you telling me this?'
'We all know what will happen when you end up on the pyre the day after tomorrow. We will go up in flames with you,' the rustling of chains is followed by the silhouette of an older man. 'If you have it in you, make sure those bastards burn with us.'
The screams of the tortured man stop, as does the conversation from the man across from me. Laughter echoes, hard shoes thud against the stones, the sound of keys, a door opening, and a body hitting the ground. All these sounds are shortly followed by the fading footsteps until silence once again takes over the dungeons.
The words of the stranger affect me more than I'd like to admit. I've wondered dozens of times why the villagers we encountered never turned us in. Deep down, I knew there was nothing for them to gain, but I had never heard the hatred so deeply rooted before.
I stare at the wall for a while before a soft rustling sound echoes through the corridor. A split second later, a black raven flies gracefully through the bars into my cell. The black bird holds a bundle of keys in its beak, silently placing them in front of me.
Elien stands before me a moment later. His black eyes look at me with a mixture of stress and composure. The first thing I notice is the red circle around his right eye. The skin is bruised, blue, and bloodshot.
'I couldn't reach the dagger. It's in Christiaan's office. I have the keys,' Elien picks up the keys from the ground before passing behind me and kneeling. Rustling follows, and finally, the endless pressure on my shoulders starts to ease.
The pain of
the chains being removed is unbearable, but I bite my lip and don't make a sound. Elien unlocks the last set of chains, and with one quick pull, I'm free. I twist my wrists and look in surprise at my burned skin. The spot where the handcuffs were just ten seconds ago is now covered in healing burns.
'Come on, there's no time to waste,' Elien urges as he opens the cell door. I push myself off the cold ground with difficulty. The heavy, dirty, and wet dress drags along the floor.
The realization that I'm leaving the cell only sinks in later. Slowly, I walk past the cells filled with prisoners. All thin, tortured, and filthy.
Elien almost drags me to the chariot before extending his hand to me. I hesitate before taking it, taking a moment to look at my little brother.
'If they kill me, find Novak and thank him for everything,' Elien stares at me for a moment before nodding.
I take his hand, and a pink sparkle surrounds us as we stand in the tower room. I look in astonishment at the dead guards lying on the floor next to us. Their throats slit, blood flowing over the stones.
Elien doesn't say a word as he walks toward the door.
'The tunnels?' he asks with his hand on the doorknob. I nod as I kneel beside the guard's corpse. The shimmering knife is a necessary luxury in my position. I retrieve it from his cold hand and walk to the door.
In complete silence, Elien opens the door to the endless corridors. He doesn't need to tell me which path to follow. We both know the fastest route to the tunnels runs through the kitchen. That means four flights of stairs and five corridors.
My heart pounds in my throat as we move through the darkness. I've never been so relieved to see the empty, dark corridors. The night's cloak ensures that most guards are in their beds.
I glide my feet silently over the floor, every movement echoing in my ears. I try to keep my breathing as quiet as possible, as if the slightest sound would betray us.
As we turn the first corner, I hold my breath. At the end of the hallway stands a guard. But it seems he should be replaced. His head rests against the wall, his mouth half-open, and his eyes closed.
I look at Elien questioningly, and he casually shrugs with a slight smile.
Elien seems to know exactly where each guard is positioned. We carefully avoid the fastest route to the kitchen. We navigate through the most remote parts of the castle, the oldest stairs, and the darkest corners, without encountering a single guard. This path would have been impossible for me alone.
Another corridor stretches out before us, shrouded in shadows dancing on the walls. It's the final corridor. The door to the kitchen is within sight.
However, the moment I realize that two guards are standing in front of us, I'm roughly grabbed. The two men tightly grip my wrists, wrest the knife from my hands, and slam me to the ground.
But that's as far as they get. The man holding my right wrist falls dead next to me, followed by the other. Both with slit throats.
Elien pulls me off the floor and pushes me as fast as he can toward the kitchen door. I pull open the wooden door and throw myself into the kitchen with a pounding heart.
I'm prepared for anything. Encountering a guard, a servant, or even Christiaan wouldn't surprise me.
However, what stands before me is something I could never have imagined. Diana with a young girl.