Ruined

by Rebecca Grey

  Maggie took her opportunity, her fist landing squarely in the center of my chest, sending me toppling backwards until my feet lost register and I tumbled to the ground. Hard earth covered in asphalt scraped at my back where my shirt had lifted from my surprising skid across the training arena. The princess pushed the tip of her blunt weapon against my throat. It was hard not to notice the pressure she put against it. She frowned. With a roll of her eyes she glanced at Marcus who looked temporarily stunned where he stood.

  “Marcus, how do you expect these guards to protect my kingdom and myself when they are so easily beaten? I might as well not even have any guards at this point. I could handle an assailant on my own.” Maggie pulled the sword away from my throat and offered a hand. Once I was standing she placed her sword in my hands with a look of disgust. “Talk to me again when you finally learn to handle yourself.”

  The loss already tasted like vile in the back of my throat as I looked on at the princess who had already turned from me to return to the main castle. That fight was not with a bored princess but with someone who has trained hard for many years.

  “Lesson’s over. I’m done for the day,” I growled at Marcus. He bustled up to my side as I hurried to leave.

  “Don’t let her get to you. The princess is just pissy because she is about to be married off and she would rather do more than practice with a wooden sword. She wants to lead the troops but her father won’t let her risk her life like that, so she is boarded up in this castle far too much.”

  “What a poor thing.” I thinned my lips to hold back my other angry comments. I shook my head and headed for anywhere that wasn’t here, leaving Marcus behind me.

  So far I was not finding this court to be very welcoming despite its many luxuries.

  TEN

  Ryker

  It was an annoying loneliness that had me quiet without Daethian at my side. Dace’s comment, I can’t share with you the fate of your boyfriend, often replayed in my head. It was a dark fear for Daethain that drew more sweat to my brow than the heat of the day.

  Waking for the day hadn’t been relaxing. As soon as I dragged myself from the pit of my dreams, I became overly aware of my surroundings. The whistling of the breeze passing through the curtains from the open balcony door. Sweet, warm, scents hanging in the air from a waiting breakfast. And the absence of a hoity prince. Dace had left the room, his belongings packed and gone from the room before I had even awoken.

  Perched on the edge of the table with servings of fruit and warm french toast with syrup was a note. The scrawl of someone who had been patiently taught to write eloquently curled across the lines. Four little words. Keep your head down.

  Was it a threat? A suggestion? Was he being literal? Because how in all of this chaos was I supposed to keep my head down? No way. I was just biding my time.

  I tried to follow all the orders, until I was able to find the right moment. The moment I could cause so much crazy in this court Ganglin would have no choice but to send me with my friend. That or kill me. It was a fifty-fifty shot really. A risk I was willing to take.

  Without Daethian to work the stables with me they had paired me with someone else to share the work. A quiet girl, for the most part, a scowl permanently plastered to her face. I had noticed the way her hips jutted from her body, an unhealthy slenderness to her form, like if she had the chance to eat properly she’d have the perfect hourglass figure.

  Even Randsin, who watched the stables, was physically there but somehow still not. His empty eyes always watching the horizon, waiting. For what, I couldn’t tell.

  Every piece of me felt hollow without my friend and his usual banter pushing me to get through the day. All that was left was bitter anger.

  Randsin marched just a few feet behind us, giving us space. With my gaze held steadily on the ground, I caught the shuffle of another guard as he jogged by me to get Randsin. I wanted to turn and watch with keen interest, instead I slowed my pace listening with intent. Words caught my ears within his shrill whispers. King Ottack had left the Heathern Court and in his absence his troops had gathered. I didn’t know what that meant for our court or for theirs, but the keeper seemed mighty concerned.

  The guard was young and inexperienced. His face was flushed and his movements frantic. Randsin simply nodded in response and took a few steps to join me. Firmly, he gripped my shoulders stopping my already impossibly slow walk.

  His face was blank with the exception of the intense look behind his eyes as he pointed at me then toward the main building like I was a child being sent to the corner. I didn’t need to hear the rasp of his voice inside my mind to know. No, I understood.

  “Head right to the kitchen and don’t make any pit stops. There are two keepers waiting to meet you when you reach the building.”

  If my partner had been surprised to be left without a keeper as I was, she didn’t show it. She retained the usual grimace.

  My eyes followed the path counting the distance between us and the waiting guards. I drew a new path in my mind, my gaze darting toward the tree line. How long would it take me to dart behind a tree? What are the chances they would catch me?

  Away from us, Randsin and the keeper jogged head, the newer of the two looking sloppy and loose compared to Randsin’s well trained manor. Items attached to the keeper’s belt slapped at his thighs. Every step his weapon belt shook until something slipped from its hold and tumbled off into the grass. Too busy in their heads they didn’t hear the soft thunk as it hit the ground and they continued on.

  Sunlight glinted off the lost item, daring me to pick it up. I stooped low making a show of fiddling with my slipper before snatching it up. Eyes were always watching you here.

  Thick leather covered a thin blade, making it feel heavy in its sheath. With a sideways glance, I tucked the knife into my waistband. This was it. This was what I could use to get me out of here.

  My partner rolled her eyes. “I have nothing to do with this so don’t let my name pass your lips.”

  Easy. I didn’t know her name. Though somehow she knew mine as she had asked me to pass her items to clean the stalls earlier. Her words made me regret the parts of my day where I had the opportunity to get to know her and instead had closed myself off.

  “What is your name?” I cleared my throat trying not to look flushed.

  “Well, I’m not going to tell you now.”

  Maybe that was for her own good. If it was me in her shoes I’d do the same thing.

  My mouth was dry, while my body began to sweat. I didn’t want to look as guilty as I felt. The outline of the knife was like a tattoo bruising my skin. Every movement had me aware of its presence, leaving me to wonder what I would do with it. How far could I make it before I was stopped? If I could even manage to make my way anywhere with only a small knife? These steps? That tree line? Freedom?

  I was untrained, didn’t really know how to hold a weapon, much less keep someone from taking it from me. My dwelling thoughts did little for my confidence and somehow did even less to quell the urge to try to cause a scene. Ganglin wouldn’t be given a choice, his only option would be to send me away.

  Keepers turned on their heels nudging us into the kitchen. Dinner was already well on its way to the tables, most of the servants carrying platters and bowls through the swinging doors. Dishes waited in a stack near the sink. Garlic filled sauces left behind the strong scent of the meal. My stomach growled with intensity.

  My nameless partner’s frown grew into a longer downturned arch, an impossibly deep frown, as she began scrubbing the dishes without a word. Large pots and pans already waited in the drying rack, the towel meant for me folded against the counter.

  As I picked it up and ran the coarse material between my fingers my thoughts shifted back to the finery of Dace’s guest room. That towel had felt like a perfect dream. Maybe the whole night had, with a few exceptions.

  Drying the pot, I walked toward the large storage room where the majority of the dishes were k
ept, specifically the larger pots and pans. With a swift kick to the door, it swung open then closed behind me, leaving me alone in the closet. My breath hitched with the realization.

  As quietly as I could I shelved the pot. I looked at my shaking hands, smaller, more fragile than I remembered them. I let my fingers crawl to my belt line and I pulled the knife free. Yanking it from the sheath, I could feel the cool steel sliding along my torso. I sucked in my breath tucking my already hollow stomach in toward my spine.

  It was a weapon but more than that it felt like an opportunity. Holding the knife in my hands, I turned it over and over. My fingertips ran over the serrated edge following the tiny rivets. With my eyes closed, I thrust the knife forward. I imagined what it would be like to thrust this into the gut of one of the keepers. Watching the face of someone so evil scrunch with death. I wondered if I should be worried about the joy that it gave me to even contemplate ending someone’s life. I resigned that at least the thought revolved around the evil keepers, who kept us so trapped.

  If I tried to do something when Randsin was near, his skill would have me beat. Whatever sort of scene I could cause he would have stopped before it started. So I’d have to make sure it was a time when he wasn’t around.

  Silence tore away to confusion. On the other side of the closet door the room filled with voices and the walls shook as doors were slammed open.

  My heart jumped into my throat and began to beat so hard I couldn’t hear anything else but the thud-unk thud-unk vibrating through my body. I tried to discreetly sheath the knife in my waist belt again but in my haste nicked the skin on my hip. Air hissed through my lips as the cut stung and began to bleed.

  The door swung open, a gloved hand reaching in to pull me out. Ganglin stood filling the doorway to the kitchen, his face soured in rage. His shadow fell over the cowering nymphs stuffed into the kitchen.

  “In our weapons count this evening, it seems, someone is missing a little something.” Ganglin turned to shoot his glare back behind him to the new keeper who scuttled in behind him. The young keeper shook just as much as we did and was showcasing a bruise covering the right side of his face. “To cover our bases we’ll be doing a quick walk through. I’m sure you all won’t mind.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep my shirt from clinging to the small line of blood that had formed along the cut. I attempted to angle myself so my shirt did not touch my body. Since I was eating less food, I’d lost weight, even in my chest, and it didn’t help to keep the fabric from grazing my skin along the shallow wound.

  Ganglin waved his hands and a swarm of guards joined us in the already too small room. Squeezing in and pushing us around as they looked through the kitchen and any guessable hiding place. Dishes were pushed aside, every folded or unfolded towel lifted before being tossed to the floor.

  Thud-unk, thud-unk, the pounding, the sweating. Could they read the guilt on my face?

  A keeper I wasn’t familiar with neared me, pushing me aside to sort through the closet. I mentally sighed with relief when he continued on his way. Heat swelled within the room with all our bodies crammed inside, shoulder to shoulder.

  Eventually the guards walked back toward the front of the room empty handed. My shoulders sagged and I let myself breathe for a second.

  “Strip them.” Two words fell effortlessly out of Ganglin’s mouth as he overlooked the activity.

  What should I do? What would they do to me when they found the knife on me? My eyes widened as they began undressing my people. Clothes scattered about, bodies revealed and embarrassed. The keepers didn’t care, some even dared to make vulgar gestures at our expense.

  Another keeper made his way to my side as I stepped away from his touch. I didn’t know what to do with myself, but he did. The keeper grabbed my wrist hard enough it felt like my bones were beginning to crunch. With the other hand he started pulling my shirt over my head. I stood bare chested, exposed to the world, and he ripped the knife out of my pants. The keeper chuckled to himself as he shoved me to the ground.

  “My king, is this what you are looking for?”

  The room stilled. Ganglin’s polished boots stomped noisily across the ground as he made his way through the crowd to me. My nerves were never ending at the thought of what I might be punished with, if I would even survive. Part of me wished for death.

  Ganglin collected the knife and examined it a second before handing it over to the young keeper who had kept close to his side. “I’ll deal with you later.”

  “Well if it isn’t ‘the pretty one’.” Ganglin squatted low to the ground so we sat eye to eye. His hand reached down to wrap his fingers around my neck holding me in place, his mouth widened to a slow smile. I could feel his breath on my face, the stench of heavy garlic curling around my nostrils.

  “Now, what were you planning to do with that?” I could almost see his words float in the air above me and the smell sent my stomach into knots.

  I didn’t dare say a word. It was working. My plan unintentionally set itself in motion. So I stared back at him, a smile tugging at the edge of my lips. With a power I couldn’t stand, he squeezed at my throat until I flinched. This was the type of girl that Ganglin liked. He wanted us to cower beneath his power. After the moment of shared silence he threw my head to the side, huffing out a breath. Muscles in my neck pulled at the motion but I recoiled only enough to cover my bare chest.

  “Kick the shit out of her, then toss her down in the smallest cellar to rot until I decide what I want to do with her.” The king turned on the heel of his boot and walked from the room.

  Near the doorway I spotted Randsin. His eyes lit like a fire before he turned to look away and ultimately left me alone to deal with my punishment.

  Within the second of Ganglin’s absence I felt a knee collide with my temple. It sent me spinning as my body hit the ground. A boot stomped to squash my fingertips, another swung into my gut, and more and more. Relentlessly the pain washed over me like the waves of the ocean beating against the shore until I could no longer take the agony and my vision turned black before me. Was I welcoming the sweet release of death finally?

  ELEVEN

  Ryker

  Rock pressed firmly into my back. Ragged stone touched me at all angles. They had done a lovely job, really, at picking out the smallest cellar. The room was only a few centimeters larger than my own bunk.

  I woke with a start, my body cold against the floor, my chest still bare, ears ringing. I wanted to sit up to assess the damage but my forehead brushed the low ceiling. Holding my breath, I did my best to look at my body with the little light that drifted in. Browns, blues, and splashes of gray were a contrast to the dirt that speckled my skin. All the bruising was no longer fresh, which led me to believe I had been out for quite some time. My left hand stung as I tried to move my fingers with little success.

  Dried blood flaked from around my forehead. Well, for now, a broken hand, some bruising, and a possible concussion was little to worry about. Thankfully, I should heal from each of those, perhaps a bit slowly without my powers, but nothing life threatening.

  Time passed unhurried down in the cellars. I tried passing the minutes by sleeping, but the cool stones against my back were like hungry wolves nipping at my skin. Every time I relaxed a rock bit into me. The musky scent of the room was just a little too doom and gloom for my taste.

  It was my fault that I was here. The thought was a little triumphant and terrifying at the same time. If this went sour I knew it was me to blame. Then again if the plan worked I knew who to thank.

  Were they readying me to be transported to the Acture Court too? Or were they readying the gallows?

  Too weak and too tired I could only lay there listening to the song my empty stomach was playing to remind me that my body was in need. A constant, most annoying, sort of rumble. Each intake of breath sent a spark of pain racing around my body.

  Without the sun or the set schedule of my dull days, I hadn’t a clue what time o
f day it may have been. I tried counting the minutes, hours, or guessing the days that had passed when the cellar door creaked open.

  Dim light shone too brightly for my eyes. Dread made my stomach heavy as a stone. I wasn’t ready to meet my fate. I wasn’t ready to see the face that would come to take me away to potentially my death. Ganglin would never let the other king know he was wrong about me, that he could never contain me or control me how he wanted. It would likely be the gallows that I faced.

  A figure appeared in the light casting their shadow over my face. I squinted as my eyes adjusted to see Randsin’s grim features before me. He paused before he tossed me a ball of fabric and brought his finger to his lips as a sign to stay silent. A familiar face felt like a relief though the stern head of the guard being said face, felt like a bad omen.

  If it was to my death I was headed to, I wouldn’t go quietly. No, give me an audience. I’ll put on a show.

  I fumbled the fabric before me, finding a small loaf of bread tucked inside the material. A shirt and my last meal. Pitiful. Not that it would stop me. Ravenous, I bit into the bread, my jaw tight from these now foreign movements. I tugged the shirt over my head, wincing as I pushed my broken hand through the sleeve and smacked it on the low ceiling. My neck sparked in pain as I bent it at an odd angle to complete the smallest of tasks.

  Randsin motioned me forward, holding out a small jug. My teeth sank into the loaf as I held it between my lips to save it from the dirt as I crawled out of the cell. Water coated my dry throat as I chugged down a few gulps of what didn’t turned out to be what I assumed it was. Darn, I was hoping it was going to be booze to help blur the edges of my death.

  Before I could finish the bottle he yanked it forward out of my hand, with a frown. Adding the water to his belt, he reached for my hand as I stood. My knees wobbled but I tried to remain upright for a moment before they buckled completely and my body threatened to tumble.