𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘪𝘦𝘴

The Cell

I sit in shock until I hear the door above slam shut which brings me back to my senses.

Wymond.

"My love." I whisper. "Wymond?"

I can hear him breathing. Shallow, rasping breaths.

"I am so sorry." I manage before my voice cracks. Tears stream down my cheeks now, dripping off my chin and nose.

I fight against the chain around my hand preventing me from getting closer to him. I hardly feel the skin beneath begin to graze and gradually, I work it deeper into a gash, causing blood to trickle down my wrist and and arm. I stop and release the tension in surrender to the metal. Now I have stopped, I realize my eyes have adjusted and the little light which creeps through the gaps of the wooden door allows me to see the curled up shape of my husband.

"Wymond." I speak again, louder this time. "Wymond, can you hear me?"

He groans in response.

"I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I just-" what can I say? I just wish it was me in your position? "Just remember that I love you." I say instead.

"I... love... you..." he forces out. His voice is muffled. I strain my eyes and make out that he lies face down on the moist, cold stone, his arm bent back at a strange angle.

"Wymond, try to sit up..."

His grumble sounds like a no.

"It would be better if you did." I am not sure why but it just seems like he would be more comfortable if he could breath better - a face full of stone is not helping.

He huffs and moans as he uses his chained hand to pull himself slowly to a sitting position. He winces as he leans back against the wall, his arm extended in front of him and pulling against the restraint. I can see his torn shirt hanging off him and I worry about how cold he will get. I feel guilt - an emotion I seem to never stop feeling - as I am wearing my woolen jacket. If I could get it off, he can have it. But with the chain around my wrist it is impossible to do just that.

"How are you feeling?" A stupid question to ask but what else can I do?

He sighs. I see his outline of a chest rise a fall, sense his eyes on me.

"Oh... my life is so good right now... it is impossible to feel any better."

"Was that an attempt at a joke?"

He hums a yes through the dark.

"How? You must feel shit. Worse than that actually, and yet you can even think about being funny."

"It is better then weeping over what as already happened. I cannot change what has been done. I hardly feel the pain anymore."

The atmosphere suddenly darkened. I feel the tension in the air.

"I am sorry." I say again.

"Stop saying that." He sounds agitated. "What has happened has happened."

My head falls and I stare down at the shiny floor. I then swivel my body round so I lean my back against the wall with my arm extended like Wymonds. I see the ring he gave me glistening in the slight light. I raise my hand up to my face and kiss the gold band. A long lingering kiss that I cannot place onto my loves lips.

"Wymond." I whisper but I can sense he has fallen asleep, his breathing leveling out. "I miss you."

***

At some point I fell asleep too because I woke to the sound of the door above opening. I shield my eyes from the light with my free hand and I see shapes moving downward, the one at the front holding a flaming torch. When they reach the bottom, they unlock the door and half the group comes to me and the other half goes to Wymond. Two each, how nice of them.

I am handed the smallest amount of bread which I savour. I had not realized how hungry I was. The men stand either side of me as I eat, arms folded, feet planted. When I finish, the one on my right hands me a cup. I take a sip of the liquid. Just water, nothing special. My tongue was like the cracked earth of summer, my throat raw from the shouting yesterday. When I take the last gulp, the cup is taken from me. The man with the free hands moves around me to my right side. He unchains my wrist and I rush to my feet. A useless move because they have quick reactions to escaping prisoners. In the orange glow of light realize they have not unchained Wymond. As I look at him, he is almost unrecognizable: torn clothes, bloodied skin, matted hair that sticks out everywhere.

"Now him." I have not spoken for so long it comes out as a croak.

No one replies. Instead my prison Guards take either arm of me. They try to lead me towards the steps but I fight against them.

"No. I will not leave him. N-" one of them slaps me round the face. I am so taken aback, they take the time to drag me away.

I never hear Wymond say anything to me as I am taken up the steps and into the light.

I am taken through the courtyard and towards the castle. As we enter the backdoor, I hear voices. It almost sounds like it did when I was young. I am taken down the hallway and I am bought to a stop outside the sitting room. The Guard to my left knocks on the door and I hear scurrying as someone rushes to open it.

Mother.

I take a sharp breath in. The last time I saw her, I was leaving with Lena. How I cracked a joke that we would stay out for as long as possible. We never returned that day. Now I have.