Elwanda

Chapter 4 - Secrets, Lies, and a Lover

Two days passed after Velus did. Elwanda found herself plagued by horrible nightmares and crippling anxiety. She always imagined that Elbyn would change his mind and report her crime to the Steward and she would be publicly executed for murder. She imagined Asari wailing and calling her a killer when she discovers her dead boyfriend. She imagined her reputation in Barrowley being forever tarnished by the horrendous act.

For the next few nights, she could not sleep well. Ifa was her only company and somehow, the bird changed its pattern of leaving at midnight; opting to stay until food was brought for Elwanda. It was surprising to the latter that nobody had noticed Velus's absence yet. But then again, the palace had more than a thousand guards. It would take weeks and weeks before the absence of one was noticed, she thought.

On the morning of the third day, she realized how wrong she was. The guard slid a plate of just bread and water toward her and complaint rolled to the tip of her tongue which she immediately bit back to prevent conversation. As she ate, she overheard voices. It sounded like a bunch of guards were questioning each prisoner.

The bread in her mouth suddenly tasted like wet leaf. Elwanda lowered the food, her heartbeat escalating. She had noticed the interrogation since she woke up, but did not really dwell on it because in the cells, sounds were always present albeit muffled. Now, it seemed the presumed investigation had arrived her axis.

She hurriedly finished up her meal and was returning the plate to its normal position when a pair of boots almost crushed her fingers. She withdrew with a start and knelt back, looking up into the face of the Steward himself.

"Open it!" He ordered the guard next to him. Four more stood outside.

When the gate swung inward, Elwanda shuffled to her feet and moved to the window. The Steward was handsomely dressed in blue that made him look no different from a Prince. If she hadn't witnessed his heartless display some weeks ago, she would have dared to desire him.

"So," He began conversationally. "Witch,"

"I'm not a witch." She muttered.

His head tilted. "And yet it would seem that strange occurrences follow wherever you go. Are you aware that a patrol guard has gone missing only days after walking into your cell?"

"No." She responded, trying to remain as calm as possible. The slightest discomfort, she believed, would expose her.

"What was his name?" The Steward asked, tilting his head in the direction of the guard behind him.

"Velus, My Lord."

"And what business brought Velus into this particular cell?"

"He courts her sister, Sire. The said woman was brought to come visit the suspect in her cell against your orders."

The Steward fell quiet. He seemed to be either thinking or waiting for the silence to unnerve Elwanda, but she simply stared at him as cluelessly as she often stared at Anren whenever the woman yelled for no reason.

"You claim to have no clue where this guard has gone?" He asked and took one step forward.

"I do."

The Steward squinted then burst into quiet chuckles. "You're clever, Elwanda, but not clever enough."

He tucked one hand behind his back and walked to the side. "There was another guard here with Velus on that visiting day, wasn't there?"

"There was, My Lord." The guard answered.

"He told us, Elwanda, that Velus permitted you to bathe twice a week. Such an allowance can only be granted by the head prison guard, but when one has connections in the right places, well. . ." The Steward paused and stared at Elwanda, walking toward her as he spoke. "You might think it odd, but I know the character of all the men who work for me, and Velus, well, he is what I'd call a rakish libertine. A lecherous hood rat."