Chapter 7 | 7 | Desperate Measures

Home..?

The word echoes in my mind as I glance at Efrem, studying his composed features as he guides me down the main entrance hall. The opulence of this place is overwhelming, each step on the cold marble floor a reminder of how far I am from everything I've ever known.

How can one person live in such a big house by themselves..?

The thought barely forms before another, more pressing one takes its place: What's going to happen to me here?

Efrem's hand hasn't left my back, and despite everything, I find myself moving closer to him. It's instinctive, born from the discomfort of unfamiliar surroundings and the fear of what's to come. I want to believe nothing bad will happen, but deep down, I know better. My very existence is a problem here.

First chance I get... I'm getting the hell out of here.

As we turn into a long corridor, I notice a man standing at attention near the end. His stance and the way his eyes scan the area scream ‘soldier’ more than ‘bodyguard’. Our eyes meet briefly, and I see no warmth there, just cold assessment.

We enter a grand dining room, and I'm pulled from my thoughts by the sight before me. A long table laden with food dominates the room, illuminated by a crystal chandelier. It's like something out of the princess stories Selina used to read us, only the walls aren't pink and gold, but a warm maroon with golden trim.

The child in me would be disappointed that the elite don't actually live in pretty pink castles...

“Sit down and eat,” Efrem commands, pulling out a chair and motioning for me to sit.

I don’t hesitate, wanting a moment’s relief from my aching feet. But as I lower myself onto the cushioned seat, pain shoots through my injured ankle. I bite back a wince, not wanting to show weakness.

The food laid out before me is probably more food than I’ve ever seen in my entire life. The scent of Efrem's cologne, still clinging to his jacket around my shoulders, mingles with the aroma of food. But as I sit here, the seconds ticking by, it becomes less and less appealing.

And suddenly, my stomach turns.

“Eat,” he urges.

A minute ago, I would’ve begged for a piece of bread, but right now… right now the mere thought of eating makes me want to gag.

I try to hold my breath, and as I do this, a set of chills strike my body and light sweat breaks at the palm of my hands. A chill runs through me, and I feel sweat breaking out on my palms. “I'm not hungry,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Efrem’s eyes narrow, clearly unhappy with my defiance. “If they beat you half to death as you claimed, I'm certain they didn't bother to feed you. Now, eat.”

The room spins, growing colder by the second. A pounding starts in my head, and my vision blurs. I can't hide my discomfort anymore, a pain-filled groan escaping my lips.

My erratic heart is at my throat, my limbs shivering. I try to comply, wanting the torture in my intestines to stop. Efrem is at my side in an instant, his touch surprisingly gentle as he examines me. “You're burning up,” he mutters, concern evident in his voice. “Look at me.”

I try to focus on his face, but everything is a haze of beige skin and green eyes. I hear him call out, “Konstantin, call my doctor.”

I can hear the urgency in his tone, growing as he fires questions at me. “Did they give you anything? Did you take anything? Answer me!”

My answer is no.

Or, at least, it should be.

The pain in my abdomen is unbearable now. I struggle to form words, my mind racing.

They didn't give me anything, did they?

I didn't take anything... did I?

And then, like a bucket of ice water, the memory hits me.

“Water…” I breathe out, the realization dawning on me with horrifying clarity. “H-He told me... if I got thirsty to drink from the toilet. I didn't want to die in that cell… I… I forgot…”

“That water is toxic,” Efrem growls, his face paling. “You would've been better off staying dehydrated.”

Suddenly, I'm being lifted. The world tilts and sways as Efrem carries me, his arms strong and secure around me. Lights blur past, and then I’m being gently laid on a bed. The movement sends another wave of agony through me, and I can’t hold back a scream.

I’m going to die…

Efrem carefully shifts my body, trying to ease my discomfort. Tears sting my eyes as I fight to stay conscious, time becoming a blur. I'm vaguely aware of another voice joining us, deep and aged.

“Master Efrem?” the unfamiliar voice cuts through my haze.

“Doctor Selik, come in,” Efrem responds, relief evident in his tone.

“You called for me?” the doctor asks.

Efrem's voice coming in and out, the ringing in my ears drowning it out. “She consumed contaminated water…”

The ringing gets louder, and for a moment, I don’t hear a thing until he closes, “—hydro-poisoning.”

I poisoned myself…

Hard footsteps echo, coming to a stop near me. Through hooded eyes, I try to look up at the man whose presence I can feel but inches away from me. His thumb lightly presses against the top of my eyelid, lifting it and a bright light floods my vision, making me flinch.

But almost instant, I hear a gasp and the light flickers away from me, his footsteps receding. “What is this?” the doctor's voice shakes with disbelief. He clears his throat before continuing, his tone hardening, “I can't treat her. I've never worked with people like her, and I don’t treat half-bloods.”

Even in my pain-addled state, the words cut deep.

I'm not even worthy of medical care?

Efrem’s voice turns hard. “I'm sure it works the same way.”

“Yes, Master Efrem, but it is a crime,” the doctor explains, his voice respectful but firm.

A crime..? I am a crime? Or is it a crime to help me?

…

I’m going to die…

“I am commanding you to aid her,” Efrem presses. “If she dies, there will be consequences for it.”

I don’t know whether or not Efrem’s threat is enough, because before I can make out the Doctor’s next words, the darkness I’ve been trying so hard to fight consumes me whole. Lingering thoughts echo in my head:

Is this the place that I die? Surrounded by people who see me as less than human?

The next time I surface to consciousness, I catch snippets of conversation.

“I had multiple tests run on her,” the doctor's voice filters through. “In addition to the hydro-poisoning, she was dehydrated, suffered from malnutrition, had two broken ribs and a sprained ankle."

I force my eyes open, taking in the dim light and the figures standing nearby.

“The burn on her chest was infected as well,” the doctor continues.

The constant beeping of a monitor fills the room, an alien sound to my ears.

“She'll recover,” I hear the doctor say. “She should be waking up any minute now, but the anesthesia will make her drowsy. She'll be in and out.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Efrem replies calmly.

As I drift off again, I catch one last comment from the doctor, his voice thoughtful and slightly surprised: “She is a very unique looking individual, but not much is different from us.”

Not much different…

The words follow me into unconsciousness, a small spark of hope in the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for me here after all.