The Death of Duty

Chapter 10 - One Eye Open

The girl that stared back at me from her cage within the mirror was pathetic. Tangled hair, sullen eyes, littered bruises, bloodied neck and chest, bite marks.

The places where Feyd had gripped me last night had begun to turn varying shades of purple and blue, and where he'd sunken his teeth into my flesh had turned a purple so dark it was almost black. My breast and neck bared these bite marks, a ring of his teeth gouged into my skin.

My neck had suffered the most under his touch—from the previous knife marks and cuts he'd given me, to the bruises shaped like his fingertips engulfing my throat, to the bite he'd given me over that spot Paul had kissed.

My neck was one big mess of red and purple and blue. It seemed to fade up, like the life slowly squeezed out of an animal, with the way his fingers left their mark on my jawline in the form of blue and purple—the sickly colors trickling up my neck to my jaw.

I'd scrubbed the blood off me last night in the bath, but no amount of cleaning could dispel the stain of him on me. I was forever marked.

Corvyn had left me a pile of clothes last night, her eyes never daring to meet mine as she dropped them off. I wasn't sure if it was due to her timid nature or if she knew what she would find if she looked up.

The clothes were all of similar fashion—tight leather that seemed to squeeze the life out of you. Mercifully, there was a large jacket or two mixed in. And I couldn't help but wonder if it was an offering from Corvyn.

I had slept on my stripped bed last night, the blankets and pillows tossed into a corner. I used the thin sheet as a protective layer from the rest of the world, covering myself in it as I slept flat against the mattress. Just as I had at Sietch Tabr. It was the most at-home I'd felt since I'd been taken prisoner.

I brushed my fingers through my hair, attempting to return a small bit of my pride to myself. I removed the tangles and smoothed it the best I could. I was not a Harkonnen, and my hair was proof.

A knock on the door had me pausing from my seat on the bed. It was not the impatient pounding of Feyd-Rautha, nor the timid tap of Corvyn. Feyd was off-world somewhere, and Corvyn had already been here. Whoever it was, I had never encountered them before.

The door opened from the other side, and I tensed, half-expecting an ambush to launch at me, a knife poised for my throat. Instead, a Harkonnen guard stood on the other side, hands lax at his sides and helmet resting in the crook of his arm against his side. His head was smooth and skin pale, as every other Harkonnen soldier appeared. Truly, there was nothing remarkable about him, and if given a crowd of Harkonnens, it would be nearly impossible to pick him out.

"Yes?" I said skeptically, my guard still up should he pull a knife on me.

"Seraphina Castellan," the soldier said, his words a question and confirmation.

"Who is asking?" I asked, the wariness apparent as I blocked part of my body behind the door.

The soldier glanced down the hall left and right, and then leaned in slightly. "May I enter?"

I frowned at his behavior. This was a Harkonnen soldier, but he was far too subdued and mild. "Why?"

He glanced behind him, as though someone could be watching his every move. "I have news from Arrakis," he said lowly, the words barely a whisper under his breath.