She didn't sleep at all that night.
Curled up on the cushions, she tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position. The chain clinked every time she moved, reminding her of her confinement. However she settled herself, it seemed to get in the way. Terrified of getting it wrapped around her neck as she slept, she looped the excess length around her wrist, the gilded links cold and sharp against the delicate skin there. She kept forgetting about it until the next time she shifted position, when it would tug at her again.
She tried sleeping on her back, on her front, facing the wall and with her back to the wall – nothing was comfortable. In the end she sat up, her back pressed against the wall, and gazed out across the room through the terrace opening. A small sliver of crescent moon was visible, along with more stars than she could ever count. Suen's children winked at her from their warm blanket of sky, mocking her as she shivered. The temperature had dropped as soon as the sun went down.
The only distraction was the changing of Samsu's guard every two hours – even when he slept, he had a sentry on watch. His harsh snores were her only lullaby; she missed Kisha's warm body and gentle breathing beside her.
After what felt like an eternal night, the sky gradually began to lighten through purple, red and orange. Samsu was up before Utu was fully awake.
He greeted his guard when he got up, but didn't spare Eliana so much as a glance. She glared at him as he moved about the room, washing and dressing. She was surprised to see that he had no body slaves to tend him – he did everything for himself. Although she supposed that he was used to life on the battlefield... body slaves would just be extra mouths to feed.
Since conquering Nippur, he seemed to have lost his taste for war. Eliana wished that he would march out somewhere again; anywhere, just to get him as far away from her as possible. The sight of him made her flesh crawl.
Just before leaving the room, he turned back and gave her a smug look, an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She stared back at him with pure venom in her gaze, dark smudges under her tired eyes.
He chuckled and walked out, leaving the guard in there with her. It seemed she wasn't to be left alone for even a moment.
She studied her new gaoler. He wasn't as young as Samsu – he must already be past his thirtieth year. A jagged scar ran from under one eye to the centre of his jaw and part of one ear was missing. Eliana wondered if it was from the same thrust of the dagger.
Apart from the scar, he was almost indistinguishable from the dozens of other guards Samsu kept. He wore the standard military tunic, a dagger hanging from his belt, his body made up of scarred skin stretched over hard muscle. She would not want to cross him: his brows were drawn together in a fierce frown as he stood to attention and stared directly ahead – an image of discipline, he did not fidget once in the fifteen minutes that Eliana watched him.
She cleared her throat. He did not even flick his eyes her way.
'Excuse me?' she called, when he didn't respond.
He might have been carved from wood for all the reaction he gave.
Eliana stood up. 'Hey! I'm talking to you!' she picked up a cushion and hurled it at him. It missed, skimming past his face and spinning away across the floor.
The man completely ignored her.
She sat down again in a sulk, leaning back against the wall and pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them there.
So far, the worst part was the boredom. There was only so long that she could entertain herself with her own thoughts for – the largest part of the time was spent imagining horrible ways to repay Samsu and his Brute for all the evil they'd done her and her city. She tried to imagine Ashan with them, but some stubborn part of her mind couldn't bring her to picture him suffering.
As if she had conjured him with her thoughts, Ashan stalked in with a plate of food when the sun was high in the sky and beating warmth into the ground.
'Relieved, soldier.' He barked at the man. 'Take a break, have your meal and be back here quickly. The prince needs me with him but he will not leave her unguarded,' he jerked his head at Eliana. She immediately felt her feathers ruffle at his tone.
The guard gave a curt inclination of the head, turned on his heel and stalked out.
Ashan's demeanour changed immediately. He moved slowly towards Eliana, as though afraid of startling her. Bending down, he placed a copper plate in front of her – on it was a bowl of honey and lemon drink, half a loaf of still-warm bread and a pot of chickpea dip.
She was ravenous, having not eaten since the banquet more than a day and a half ago, and the smell of the fresh bread made her mouth water – but still she pushed it away, sending it skittering a few feet along the tiles.
'I don't want it.' She made herself say.
'Eliana,' he said, still using his commanding general's voice and pushing the plate back towards her, 'you have to eat. Don't be an idiot and refuse it. You'll only make yourself miserable and sick, and it won't endear you to Samsu or anyone else. A foolish little protest won't get you off this chain any quicker.'
'Don't talk to me like I'm one of your soldiers,' she flared up. 'I don't have to do what you say.'
'No, you don't,' he retorted sharply, 'but you should. I only want what's best for you.'
'Like you wanted what's best for me when you hit me and then watched Samsu fuck me? That's where all this started – it's your fault I'm here!'
'That's not fair and you know it! If you could control your temper...'
'My temper! Tell me, Ashan – how do you think your temper would fare if you'd suffered half what I have?'
'Look, I know it hasn't been easy...'
'Ha! That's an understatement! And you've only made it worse.'
'I didn't have a choice!' he shouted, looming over her.
'That's what men always say when they've made the wrong one,' she said quietly.
Ashan bunched his fists and took a deep breath. Bringing himself under control, he knelt next to her and looked into her eyes. 'How did you sleep?' he asked, gently.
'I didn't,' she snapped. 'How could I?'
'Eliana, please,' his voice broke a little. 'Don't hate me. Let me help you.'
'If you want to help me, break this chain!'
'You know I can't. Samsu would know in a heartbeat who did it. Even if I freed you, there's nowhere for you to hide in the palace, and you'd never make it out alive.'
She dropped her head to her knees, hiding her face from him. There was a long minute of silence.
'Please – is there anything I can get you?' he tried again. 'Anything that would make you more comfortable? Think before you answer – be practical.'
She thought for a moment. 'A blanket,' she said in a small voice. Ashan had to strain to hear her.
'Pardon?' he asked.
Raising her head, she said, 'I'd like a blanket. It gets so cold at night, and I can use it to cover myself decently in this gown, and as a screen when I need to... relieve myself.' She glanced at the painted porcelain chamberpot set beside her cushions for the purpose. 'I haven't dared to use it yet – I don't have any privacy.'
'Anything else?'
She could have cried to see the pity in his face as she murmured, 'a jug of water, please.'
He put a hand on her arm and stroked it softly, arousing all her old feelings for him despite her determination to hate him. 'I'll see what I can do,' he whispered as her guard marched back into the room. Standing up, he gave the guard a brusque salute before striding from the room, leaving Eliana looking after him with longing in her heart.
After a few moments, the smell of the bread was too much. She grabbed it with both hands, dipped it into the chickpea paste and tore at it with her teeth. The whole thing was gone in minutes.
An hour or so later, a slave appeared to remove the plate. He carried with him a jug of cool, fresh water and a thick woollen blanket. Banging the jug down and dropping the blanket beside it, he collected the plate and left without a word, not even acknowledging Eliana's weak smile of thanks, though she was sure he'd seen it.
She took a long draught from the jug, then moved it over against the wall and out of the way where she would not knock it over. Curling up on the cushions and unfolding the blanket, she covered herself, pulled it up over her head, and wept.