The Brave Human Mate

66.

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Healer Rhea's POV

Three days.
It had been well into three days considering that her captives had splashed water at her twice, and thrown a metal bowl into her cell without any care.

The feedings, as she called it, were far and few in between.
Once a day, skipping the first day—It felt like the world had completely stopped moving, given that she was well underway into madness.

What had started as an obsessive tick had turned into something worse, a hallucination—And Rhea's thoughts were far too valuable to be shouting any sort of nonsense.

But how could she, when the likes of her parents had all but joined her in the dark depths of this prison cell?
It felt odd, that it had taken much longer than she wanted to admit to noticing them, but she kept tight-lipped.

Not wanting to out herself to those that might be listening, and even then, there was no telling if there was any other beings in these cages. Ones she couldn't see or hear.

"It's alright, my love. No one is here." That wasn't the reassurance that Rhea wanted to hear, but her eyes glanced over to the form of her mother. It was as if she hadn't aged a day since the moment she saw her last, and it pained Rhea, so much.

"We gave you such a beautiful name, won't you share it again?"

"When the time is right." She grumbled to her father, and the male had all but sighed. Though he remained still against the cellar doors. "Why, daughter? You are making a mistake."

"I would be in here regardless, a name is just as dangerous as the rest." It was true, wasn't it?
Her name had caused her to run, caused Romulus to spend countless hours and resources in an attempt to find her...Was her name truly worth it anymore?

"My little rose, please...Don't give up hope."

"Hope? What has hope done for me?" She spat, her body feeling heavier than it ever had—It was the lack of her tonic, no doubt.
That mixed in with whatever dirty water and awful meals were doing her fragile immune system little to no good.

Three days, could she survive much more?

"You can. You can and you will. For Vrovaria." She scoffed, raising her hand in an attempt to swat away the sweat dripping down her forehead. But it was all for not, given that her arm had hardly made it halfway.

Something felt wrong, terribly wrong.

Both in her heart and soul, she could feel it rushing to the forefront of—

"Amory?"
"Vrovaria is dead. You left me...You left me all alone." Rhea choked, feeling the haunting of her own tears trickles down her face to join in with the sweat. Her body was fighting something off, but what?

Her heart rate was high, her body felt as though it was burning—Given the attention, she was in focusing on the much colder surfaces of the cell doors and walls. But it was no use, without proper focus she couldn't—

"Little Rose, we didn't—"
"You left me to burn!" She shouted, her entire body picking itself up to lean forward. And had it not been for her hands holding the bars, she would have fallen forward.
Again.

It was all too poetic that she had survived one horror to die in such an isolated bit of confinement. But how could she do anything? Her mind was too distant to focus on her parents, let alone try to figure out the formula for the King.

If he even was ill.
What if he was fighting for her to be removed?
What if he wanted her here?

"You cannot think like that. You are wise, daughter. But not wise enough to see what is happening right in front of your very eyes." It was shite, complete and utter shite!
How were they going to stand there and tell her what is and isn't?

"And you're dead. You're dead! You're both dead!" That would not change, her wounds would not change—but what could is the King's condition.

The bowl and spoon had remained just where she left it and so she gripped the damned utensil and began doing what she did best—Overanalyze and plot.

It was quite simple, something she could do in her sleep. But what plagued her was not just exhaustion but a raging infection that flared every time she remembered.

The phantom pains of how the Rogue King had managed to impale her had suddenly come to the forefront—And there was nothing she could do to hide from it than grasp at the likes of her injury.

Even then, the infection had begun to ooze out, simulating the very frightening and very real pain caused by it all. Until she had allowed the darkness to creep on her.

No matter the anger with her parents, she did feel safe slumbering in their company.

The following time she awoke, her body felt the cool air much louder than before—And given the remaining droplets and damp hair, she realized that her sadistic guards had once again come to 'water her,' as Rhea liked to call it.

But turning to gaze at the spaces in the room, she also took into account that her parents were long gone—And no amount of begging and pleading would have them return.

Because they were dead.
Long dead.
And their being here felt like an injustice Rhea never felt like she deserved it.

No, instead, she pleaded with a higher deity—Perhaps the goddess would be so kind as to pass her soul off to another, to Romulus, who was no doubt still fighting his own inner battle.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." She croaked, but the words had come out more than a jumbled bit of noise than anything else. Yet her body continued to rumble with the conclusion that she could've done so much, but it was all borrowed time anyway, wasn't it?

Between the castle having been lit on fire, to the Rogue King having stabbed her.
She lived two lives longer than she was supposed to, and there was no telling if there would be more.

"I'm sorry we didn't have enough time..." She spoke, allowing her eyes to close once more.
Rhea had no longer felt any sort of hunger or thirst, let alone the ache to move.

That had been the tenth day, but it felt like an utter eternity.

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Date: 07/17/23

Time: 3:48

Words: 1075

Author's Note:

Welcome to the cursed Chapter 66. It's short but it still hurts.
Working on the next update now!