Rhea
I've been in a cell for what seems like maybe an hour or so. At least that's when I woke up. I could have been here for a day, maybe two.
Nobody has opened my cell door. I haven't heard a single noise except for the faint clanking of my chains. Heavy manacles sit around my wrists, with a somewhat long chain that binds them to the stone wall behind me.
I've tried exploring the small area I sit in as best as I could. It's pitch black in here, with a faint glow of light from the very thin crack under the heavy door blocking me from freedom.
From what I could feel, there is no bed, no bench, and no way of escaping.
The cell is empty, and cold. The only presence filling the room is myself and a poorly made wooden bucket to do my business in.
I've tried pulling on the chains, in case they were fragile, maybe even weak by some miracle.
I stopped after I felt my skin begin to form blisters.
For now, I've decided to sit against the icy stone wall, searching for more plans.
I haven't given up my fight, or my revenge. I will spill their blood, no matter how long I have to wait here, or sleep here.
This long hour has given me time to think of my parents, of their faces, and of their files. It's given me time to think of every way I want to deliver the Campbell's family's death.
I've noticed they've taken away my daggers, my boots, my hair tie, and my belt. Which is to be expected, they can't have any way for me to escape, or murder their precious guards.
For the first time since I've woken up, I hear a faint clack of boots, walking down the stairs, all the while getting closer to me.
From the crack of the door, I see light beaming brighter now. The door holding me here makes a loud rumble, as a guard opens the door.
He shines a lantern in my general area, realizing I'm awake.
Shuttering a quick glance to my bucket, finding it empty, he then retracts his steps back outside of my cell.
"Wait! What's the date?" I ask, shouting loud enough to echo.
I scramble to my feet, inching closer to the door, and for any information.
I'm gifted with no reply as he shuts the heavy door, followed with a rumble again.
I listen to his footsteps, counting each one until I hear nothing.
26 steps. That I can hear.
From what I could see, there is a hanging lantern right outside my door. There is hallway space to go left only.
Time passes by me, going in slow moments.
I hear noises again. Getting up once again, I go to the door, listening.
Multiple footsteps echo closer to me.
Gently, I step backwards, feeling each icy touch against the heels of my feet.
The door opens once again, but with three figures standing in front of me. Gabriel, Liam, and the guard from before.
The guard holds a tray in his hands. Gabriel nods at him, signaling him towards me. The man puts the tray on the floor, somewhat away from me. I look down and see bread, a small amount of oatmeal, and a paper cup with hardly any water.
"Eat," Gabriel demands.
I look up at him, "When are you going to execute me?" Surprise washes through me at the sound of my voice. I sound raspy and dehydrated.
"I mean, aren't you going to kill me? For touching the precious prince hiding behind you like a scared little puppy," I continue.
He scoffs, "Your mouth won't get you anywhere here. Neither will your title. Here?" he gestures around him, "You're nothing. You're alive because we allow you to be. You should be begging to do anything for us."
"I'm alive because I have to be. What would happen if it got out that Rhea Windsor died in Aepresea, just after her parents when they came to visit here? What would happen to your despicable king and queen's reputation? The kind and caring front they put up? Just how quickly would it be destroyed by a simple death?"
He chuckles coldly, "Do you know how quickly it could be covered up? Do you really think you're all knowing? That you had everything figured out? Don't underestimate just how far ahead of you we are."
"If it was that simple for Alexander and Emery, they could just have me killed. Instead, you're wasting food, keeping me alive. I'm alive because you were ordered to keep it that way."
"You're wasting your breath Rhea. I'd be eating that food if I were you, because you aren't getting any for a while," Gabriel spits.
My eyes adjust better, as I stare at Liam. He looks uncomfortable. A sense of fear and hesitation peeks through his eyes as he stares back at me. I notice the way he analyzes me, as if he doesn't know what to make of me.
He stands there in a royal suit, clearly never worn before. He looks out of place in his own kingdom. Dressed up like a doll to keep up a charade for his parents. To look more serious, more intimidating.
But to me, he looks terrified of me, and of Gabriel.
He doesn't look serious. He seems fragile.
And fragile I can work with. He's the weak link. My way out.
Gabriel already made his mind up of me. I'm the betraying bitch that destroyed whatever space his heart held for me.
I'm a traitor to him.
Someone who dared to touch the prince. The prince of the kingdom he's incredibly loyal to.
But Liam?
He's unsure. The hesitation I so clearly see in him isn't for me and who I am. It's for the guard protecting him, for his parents, and for what he's representing. It's hesitation for who he thought his loved ones were.
Unfortunately, for him, he doesn't know how to hide that so well.
"What about you?" I nod to Liam, " Don't tell me you're going to let a guard speak for you, your royal highness."
He gulps, panic settles in his eyes as he glances at Gabriel for help, "I don't need to waste words on you," he looks me up and down, "You're filthy, and you can rot in here for all I care. Better it's my guard talking to you, and not me."
I smile, someone taught him well with words. But I think he forgot his poker face lessons.
I step closer, as my chains pull against my wrists. "It's embarrassing how lowly you seem. Standing there, letting a guard like him," I nod towards Gabriel, "make insufficient threats to your most bloodthirsty enemy. You want me to take you seriously? Make those threats yourself. Show me just how dangerous you can be when mommy and daddy make orders. Because right now? You look like a fool masked in royalty."
His eyes slightly widen, like he just became aware of the situation, of where he is.
Gabriel glares at me, making no attempts to disagree. He knows how it looks to me. He knows my words are right.
And so does Liam.
Somewhere in that little brain of his, he knows what title he holds, and he has to play the part.
Liam musters some confidence, chuckling, "I don't owe you anything sweetheart, no matter if you take me seriously or not, all the better if you don't expect me to do anything."
I grin, "whatever you say, prince."
Gabriel grabs the handle of the door, signaling everyone out. Leaving me in darkness once again.
Hopefully their egos are as fragile as Liam is. The next time I see someone, I hope Liam is the one presenting himself.
I bend down, feeling around on the floor, looking for the tray.
My fingertips brush over the edge.
Pulling it closer to me, I officially sit on the frozen floor, feeling around for the bread.
I contemplate on the possibility they would poison me, and settle on the hope that I'm right, and they need me alive.
Holding it to my mouth, I take a bite, feeling the staleness of it.
Deciding to savor the bread, I keep it in the pocket of my dirt covered pants.
I dip my finger in the oatmeal, tasting it, and finishing it within seconds.
Just like my bread, I savor my water, taking just a sip to hold me over for today.
I don't doubt they'd starve me just before my body gives up, and then feed me again.
________
It's been a week. I think.
I have no official way of knowing but if I calculated it right. It's been a week.
Not one guard has shown up.
Nobody has given me food. No one has come to switch my bucket.
The smell is awful.
But I've started to get used to it.
I have one piece left of my bread I saved. It's hard and almost unbearable against my teeth, but it's better than nothing.
My stomach hurts. It's hollow and empty.
I ran out of water two days ago.
I waste no energy, sitting in one spot the entire time, except to stretch my bones every few hours.
My butt is sore from sitting all day, but there isn't much to do.
Nothing but think, and stare into a black abyss.
I've noticed the light outside my room flickers every so often, which has become my new source of entertainment. Guessing when it will flicker.
Sometimes I jiggle my chains against the floor, just to know I haven't gone insane, that I haven't lost all my senses.
I hear an echo of a loud slam. A door. Footsteps follow.
They reach my door.
And Liam Campbell walks in alone with just a lantern. No guards in front of him. Instead they hang back standing outside my room.
He shuts the door behind him, leaving just us. "How are you feeling?" He asks, sounding... monotone, very script-like.
"Just fine," I gasp out.
I can tell the second he smells the room, he wants to leave immediately.
"I'm sure you have a very big appetite right about now," he quavers.
"You're here alone, how pleasant," I change the topic.
"I thought I'd see how miserable you are."
I cough out a laugh, "No. You insufferable assholes realized I was right. You look delicate. Easy to break. You decided to show me I was wrong, but ended up proving me beautifully right."
"Your thoughts are yours alone, think what you want," he notes.
I take my opportunity. I have him to myself, nobody to tell him different. "Do you know what your parents did? Or are you clueless?" I question.
He stays silent, not knowing how to answer me.
I take my chances, if he doesn't know what Alexander and Emery did, he'll tell me with his face.
"Your parents killed mine, while they were on their way here. They didn't die out of mother nature. They were assassinated," I scold in a low voice.
His eyes dart, as his jaw hardens. His eyes scream surprise, in a way of putting the last piece of a puzzle together.
He stares at me then, really looking at me. Flicking his eyes from my eyes, to my body, to my hair, to the floor. Hesitation soaks his mind once again.
"You're lying," he tests.
"Lying? Why would I be lying? In what world would I come here after my parents death and cause trouble? In what situation does it make sense to risk my life after becoming Queen? This isn't aimless. Think. Why would they keep me alive? Why not tell the public I attempted to murder you, and rage war with my kingdom? What is keeping them from acting on an easy solution?"
I watch the gears turn in his head, a ticking bomb of information ready to be detonated.
"Why not kill you then? They could still do that. Get rid of you and forget the leverage you have," he whispers.
"They need me alive, I don't know what for, but something is keeping them from killing me," I explain in hushed tones.
Straying his eyes from the floor, he looks at me, "Say you're right, let's say I do find the information, and everything adds up. That doesn't mean you can trust me, or I can trust you. I could easily kill you with one hand."
"You won't. You don't want to. The look on your face when Gabriel talked to me, said enough. That power? That certainty? It scares you, to not know what the people around you are capable of," I utter.
I watch as he sits in contemplation. "I'll see you again. Soon."
He opens the door, leaving, while a guard grabs my bucket, replacing it with a new one, then coming back in with my food for the week.
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