Distorted Beauty {Pure Illusion Series: Book 4}

Prologue

The handmaiden’s hands no longer shook when she headed down to the prison. Five months of this tedious task three times a day had turned her nervous and trembling body to one that was rigid and unforgiving. Prison changed everyone, not just the ones that were behind the glass like cells and the white floors and walls, but for the guards – and in this case handmaiden – as well.

Walking through the double doors, Meyln led her down towards the cell she was required to look upon each day. Looking into the cell that was isolated from the others, she felt a twinge of pain rise up into her heart; it was hard to stomach what she saw even if she looked upon him every day.

Loki, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, was chained to his cell wall. His hands were bound over his head and his feet behind him. He was filthy, as he could not wave away the grime with his magic. He could not even utter a few incantations to free himself – his lips had been sewn shut.

This was not the first time his lips had been sewn shut – it had happened once before, long ago. The feeling was not pleasant then and it was not pleasant now. The fibers ached in his lips and his mouth was parched and desperate for water. The god’s head hung low, weary and exhausted physically and mentally from the situation he found himself in. Bruises mared his wrist and dried blood stained his clothing and the floor around him from Odin's interrigations. He had been beaten sensless to explain what had happened to Sigyn, but Loki had promised it wasn't him and that someone else far more dangerous was coming - no on would listen. His skin was etched with scars across his back and chest, some of the skin ragged and appearing as if it would fall off. The smell that radiated off of him was enough to drive every creature in the Nine Realms away from him.

The All-Father had sent him to prison to start with, but as Loki’s screams and attempts to escape became brasher, the King had bound him to the wall and requested that his lips be sewn together. It had been Eméra that had sewn them together, his words still haunting her. He pleaded with her not to do this to him, to allow him see Sigyn - that he needed to see her. He asked about her night and day and did not sleep or eat till he received word on her - even now he would hang on Eméra's every word about her, even if it was a simple memory about an exchange the pair had shared.

Eméra motioned for the door to be opened, and she stepped inside to tend to his needs. It broke the maiden’s heart to have to silence him and watch him cry silently against the cell wall. His green eyes held little life, the only moments he would truly look at her would be when she would come and see him and talk to him about something she and Sigyn shared together while she fed him. Though she brought food for him three times a day and gave him plenty to drink, the god was still incredibly skinny – his minimal movement and refusals to eat were taking a toll on his already worn out body.

Sitting down on the floor now, she watched as the black disheveled and matted hair of Loki moved as he leaned his head back against the wall to look at her. Eméra gave him a half smile and offered him a drink to begin. He nodded and she began to pour the water in the small opening she had left in his mouth. After a few sips, she set the cup down and looked at him directly in the eye and took a deep breath.

“Prince Loki, please listen to what I have to say; do not react until you have heard all I have to say.”

The God of Lies scrunched his brow in confusion, but motioned with his hand slightly for her to continue, the sound of chains rattling above her when he did. Eméra reached into the pocket of her dress and produced a pair of scissors. His green eyes widened, as he looked from the scissors to her face, eager to hear what she had to say.