─── ❝She was expensive,
like the piece of velvet she was wearing,
but she demanded his heart,
not his money❞
or
─── in which he finds his crow in the most unfortunate t...
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chapter twelve,everything goes according to plan?
TERRIFYING. Nothing else could describe the coldness that was infecting her heart. Clear and loud, the thoughts didn't leave her be. Her fingertips touched the cold marble floor underneath her, making her exhale shakily—cold, just like her heart.
With a chuckle, a movement of her head bringing her down, she just started to laugh – deeply and honestly. Her voice echoed between the four, shining white walls of this room, creating an after sound that seemed as if she was a demon. Well, in here she was considered one.
Lavender was a Grisha. It made her wonder if she will even find out what kind of Grisha she was before they will behead her or worse, torture her before the inevitable death. Or was it that the old lady just sent her into her own doom without any specific reason? It didn't matter right now, did it?
The woman pushed her head back, feeling a painful crack in her neck. She let out a short huff of air as she felt that she wasn't in her previous clothes— she was dressed in some sort of linen pants and a simple tunic that was ripped, uncovering her blueish, spotted skin.
The laughter soon turned into a twisted frown of disgust and panic—someone changed her clothes when she was unconscious. Someone touched her. She pushed the ripped spot of the linen apart, uncovering the blue spots on her skin that weren't yet from the coldness – it was a mark of a grip. Someone grabbed her, someone used her.
An acid taste alongside saliva appeared in her mouth and soon enough she vomited the previous meal she had eaten, whenever she had eaten. Her lips started to burn from the acid of the stomach touching her mouth and the breathlessness made her feel dizzy.
Someone touched her.
Her mourning thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the door and she moved further until her back hit the cold wall. In the room, a man, quite aged and with a decent beer belly came in, showing off his medals of honour. Meanwhile, his eyes looked at the Grisha with the burning passion of hate.
"What an unfortunate time you got in here," he started, his voice rough as he talked in Fjerdan.
"I don't understand," she sobbed out in Kerch.
"You really thought you would get into Ice Court without getting noticed," the drüskelle said in a rough Kerch.
"I was captured," Lavender gritted out.
"There are seven errors in our documents. Different prisoners than expected," he started and Lavender's heart dropped. Fjerdans knew something was wrong and they ought to get it out of her.
