Heart of Fire

Chapter Eleven

"Get up." Zehra's horrid voice fills my ears.

I look up at her from the ground, my body too frail and tired to move. She stands above me with her hands on her hips, looking expectantly at me. I don't move. She huffs a breath before grabbing my arms and forcing me off the ground. Not being able to stand on my own, I wobble against her, leaning my entire body weight on her for support. Apparently annoyed by my actions, she calls for a guard to carry me. I don't say a word, my throat being too dry for such efforts.

It's been two days since I've met her father when he interrogated me. That was the last time I was out of my cell. The only people coming in and out of my cell have been guards to give me food, which I didn't eat anyway. My nose and mouth stopped bleeding shortly after being beaten, but the cuts on my chin and arm are undoubtedly infected from lack of cleanliness. I am completely and utterly miserable.

I must have fallen unconscious as the guard carried me, because now I am sitting in a room full of servants. Zehra sits behind me as the servants stand around, waiting for her orders. With one wave of her hand, the servants surround me, forcing me out of my chair to undress me. I try to stop them, but it's no use. They simply swat my hands away as they continue to rip the clothing from my body, leaving me exposed. Being so revealed in front of so many people causes words to finally leave my mouth.

"What the hell are you doing to me?" I croak, directing the question towards Zehra, even though she is not physically touching me.

"You have to look somewhat presentable for today. My father intends to use you for the entertainment this evening." She replies, not looking up from where she sharpens a dagger.

If only I had a dagger. I would use it to slice her throat open at this very moment.

"What do you mean, entertainment?" I rasp, now being put in new clothing.

"You will see, be patient. For now, we have to get you cleaned up, we can't have you looking like that." She says, nodding towards my appearance.

Looking in the mirror, I hardly recognize myself. There is dried blood all over my face and upper body, my dried blood to be exact. The bags under my eyes are deep and blue, an indication of how tired I truly am. My body is far too thin, making me wonder how long I've been here without any nutrients. I look one step away from death, which is more than likely accurate.

The servants clean the blood from my face, bandaging the cuts on my face and arm. They then allow me to sit down, before forcing food into my system. I chew slowly, the slop they've given me is as bad as it looks, but I manage to choke it down. They brush my matted hair before putting it in a braid, out of my face.

When the servants are done prodding at me, they leave the room, abandoning me with just Zehra. I look in the mirror once again. All the blood is gone to reveal my face, which is pale and sickly. The white bandages cover my wounds, which are still highly infected and utterly painful. They also put me in a ridiculous dress with bright pink tulle swarming around my too thin body. I look absurd with such a comical dress on my sickly body.

"Come on, we best not be late to meet with my father." Zehra beckons me.

Feeling slightly more sturdy with something in my stomach, I am able to walk on my own. I follow her out of the room, letting her lead the way to wherever it is we are going. I assume that I am going to be interrogated once again, though I do not know why I must be dressed up for such a thing.

Zehra leads me down a long hallway made of stone, just like the rest of the castle. At the end of the hallway, I spot a door with a window letting in sunlight. Is she taking me outside?