Chapter 07

I woke up to a drumming in my head, every inch of my skin burning as if I had been lit on fire. I groaned as I tried to move, but my feet were had also been manacled. I tried to move but my muscles ached. I felt a wetness in between my legs and knew what it was — blood.

"Ohh, no," I said under my breath. "Ohh, no."

I was suddenly felt a longing, a yearning for Hilda. She had died trying to protect me, and even though she had her moments of pigheadedness, she had loved me and cared for me. If she were with me, she would have done something to help me, perhaps said kind words to soothe me.

"That was very poor!" I heard a voice and tried to look at the corner of the room. There stood Elias, already dressed in a lush robe, his body clean. I could smell his cologne from where he stood, so much that it made me woozy. He walked even closer to me and I saw his eyes — calm, settled, but disappointed.

"You passed out even before the actual action began," he said, stroking my face. "I had to finish even as you lay there lifeless."

The ache I felt in my pelvis and the wetness between my legs were a testament to his words, but I could say nothing, lest I sparked his anger. He grabbed me by the throat and dropped me on the hard ground, worsening my ache. He began to undo the manacles.

"You need to do better," he said. "I have no patience for such incompetence. Now, leave this room and go back to quarters. You have stayed long enough."

I managed to get on my feet, and picked up my tattered clothes from the ground, wrapped them around my body and hurriedly left the room, rushing down the hallway and into the courtyard. This time, the servants there looked at me with pity, and this made me start to weep. But I hurried to the bed I had been assigned. Instead of immediately having my bath, I collapsed on the bed, crying. Yvette woke me up, brought me a hot meal, and made me go have my bath.

"I know you've had such a terrible time," Yvette said as she handed me a new dress that I was thankful for, even though it was a bit threadbare. "But don't worry. It'll be fine. You'll ease into the routine here, and you'll soon start to see that it's not so bad."

I knew she only meant well, but as she spoke, I remembered Lucien's girl, the wildness in her eyes and the words she had spoken to me. As I slipped into my new dress, I couldn't help but feel a sense of hopelessness.

"Yvette?" I said timidly. "Have you ever thought of leaving this place?"

Her eyes changed and the softness they had held dissolved.

"Child, we don't think such things here," she said, her voice chilly. "We just do the best we can and live one day at a time."

"But has anyone ever left?" I asked. "You all seem to have been here for a very long time. Do you know of anyone who has escaped?"

"Shut it!" She yelled at me. "Just shut it. Look, Amara, of whatever your name is, you are nothing but a servant here, a slave. You do what you're told without arguing and you mind your business. You're lucky; you should be thankful you're still alive. Many have been slain and their bodies abandoned on the road that leads to Crimson Palace, but you're still here, so be grateful. Henceforth, I don't want to hear anything about leaving from you. Okay?"

"Okay, ma'am," I said. I lay down to sleep immediately she left and by the time I awoke, it was dark. The hostel was occupied with all of the servants and the air was alive with their snores. I couldn't believe it was the life I was living now, but I steeled myself and accepted it. Yvette was right — I should be grateful for life.

An ugly sound interrupted my thoughts. Someone above me was moaning — a low, but audible sound, as if they were in intense pain. I tried to ignore it, but it got louder by the second and nobody was around. I got out of my bed and looked at who lay in the bed; it was Lucien's girl. She was tossing and turning on the bed, and I felt sorry for her. I tried to stir her to wakefulness, but it was hard. Finally she opened her eyes, wild as I had seen them earlier that day.

"Water," she said. "I need some water."

I went to the front of the hostel where I had been given some water by Yvette, found a small cup and brought some for the girl. I helped her sip it, and immediately she swallowed, she recoiled, like the water had burned through her chest.

"Are you okay?" I asked, but she didn't respond, only clutched her chest. And then she let out a deafening scream. The scream was loud enough to rouse everyone and they hurried towards us. She lay on the bed, still and unmoving, while I stood beside her with the cup. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth.

"What happened?" Yvette asked. She and the others shook the girl's body trying to get a response from her but they got nothing. I watched them and it occured to me what had happened. But nobody said a thing until Yvette put her ears to the girl's chest.

"She's gone," she declared. And then, almost uniformly, everyone turned to look at me.

"It was you," someone yelled at me, pointing accusing fingers. "You witch. You've killed her."

I dropped the cup and staggered backwards, as the noise grew. They did not even let me speak; they kept accusing me, closing in on me. And then

the first blow landed and I fell to the ground.