LOST

Chapter 4- Strength

Celestine

I tried as hard as I could but sleep didn't claim me that night. Not when I knew that the Crown Prince of Kythia was hours away from torturing me for information. But I could not and would not give them what they desired. It wasn't my secret to share. I wasn't just endangering the lands of Satian but also the lives of millions of innocents which could be lost in bloodshed if the King of Kythia found out.

I just lay there, staring at the ceiling above. The stone was cracked and had very well disintegrated at some points. I almost laughed knowing that the stone represented how I would look in a couple of hours- damaged and hurt, but not broken. I closed my eyes. Time passed slowly. With every second gone, the beating of my heart against my chest grew louder. Across the hallway, a creaking sound echoed. My eyes opened. I sat up. The sound of metal boots clanking met my ears. Aiden hadn't come to get me today. It was two guards instead. I looked through the small, barred window in my cell. Yes, there was a slight amount of sunlight peeking through which meant it was early morning.

One of the guards opened the gate. The other hauled me away. Both guards wore the same velvety, navy blue uniforms as every other Kythian soldier. I was too tired to see where they were taking me. My eyes were half-closed with tiredness and trepidation made my steps shaky. Through the slits of my eyes, the only thing I could make out was my feet, twisting and turning along the hallways. I shook my head, trying to open my eyes a little more.

The guards were leading me into a dark room. It's not a room, I realized. It was a spiral stairway, leading down. I tripped many times over the steps in the dark. When we finally reached the bottom, faint light entered my eyes. This room wasn't like any others, it too was made of stone just like my cell. My heart jumped to my throat when I took in the contents of the room. There was a wooden table on my right with knives of various shapes and sizes sprawled across it. Beside it was a metal chair with straps so thick, they could've held down a bear. There were razors and steel everywhere I looked. Torture machines that I hadn't even seen before were sprawled across the room. Some of them were still coated with old blood. I almost gagged. At the far end of the room stood two elderly men in white robes. I assumed they were healers. My gaze went back to the table. Aiden stood there, with his back to me. He weighed a knife in his hand.

"Sire, we have brought the prisoner," one of the guards said after clearing his throat. The Prince's stance stiffened. He took a visibly deep breath and shook his head ever so lightly.

"Place her in the chair," he said as he turned around to finally look at me.

"Yes, sire," the guards said in unison and hauled me to the chair. I didn't fight them. The more I would fight, the more painful they would make it. I sat on the chair and readied myself. The guards stood back. The Prince looked at them expectantly.

"You may leave," he finally said. The guards bowed deeply at the Prince and left the room. There was complete silence till we heard the echo of the guards shutting the door to the stairway. The Prince sighed.

"I can only hope that you cooperate, Princess," he muttered and sauntered near me.

 He was standing in front of me now. He bent down to his knees. His hands went to my foot, touching the bare skin of my ankles as he strapped them down to the chair. His fingers brushed against my skin softly and it was clear that he wanted to avoid touching me as much as possible. I observed the Prince at work. He looked calm but there was a burning emotion behind his eyes.

Fear?

Hesitation?

The light from the sconces nearby highlighted the hard lines and contours of his beautiful face. Even though he looked confident, I could feel his shaky, hot breath on my knees as he began to strap my thighs. And then I realized what he was doing.