Frasa shot up in bed her, every nerve in her body alert. Her red hair in a state of disarray, leaving her curly mane tangled and hanging in front of her eyes. Pushing it back with her right hand, her eyes widened. She gripped the hand tightly and inspected it, twisting it back and forth. As she flexed it, she found herself astounded.
There was no sign the flesh of her wrist had ever been damaged.
Memories of the night before flooded her mind and a chill crawled up her spine. One of wearyness. She was not sure what had taken place to cause the Karz to come and heal her, let alone how he had done it. Glancing around the room, she raised her brows.
Empty.
She listened carefully, for any sign of sound, but heard nothing. Peeling the covers away from her body, she shuffled out of the bed her feet meeting the cool floor. She stepped forward, gaze locked on the glass doors just in sight. She could make it outside. She was sure of it.
The door swung wide open.
Frozen in place, she whispered a curse.
A deep chuckle sounded and she turned towards the source of the noise, knowing what she would find. Her eyes narrowed in on the Karz.
No longer wearing the white ensemble of the night before, he instead wore a light green shirt that splayed firmly against his strong chest, his flowing pants tied by a wrapping waistband. He held a brown bowl in his large hands. She glanced at them, remembering the tender way they had touched the flesh of her wrist the night before. Her fingers grazed the wrist softly.
Watching her warily, he sidestepped towards the desk to the left, leaving the wooden door open. She glanced between the open door and the glass ones. She didn't know if she could make it past the glass... but the open door...
Frasa bolted. The open door was just in sight. Her feet had hardly taken two steps before strong arms wrapped around her middle and dragged her backwards. She threw a punch, but her fisted hand was caught by his, which wrapped around it firmly. She squirmed in his arms, kicking with all her might.
She was promptly deposited into the desk chair, the brown bowl full of some sort of broth and meal in front of her. Her head whipped around, eyes searching for the door and the Karz stood in front of her, blocking her view.
"I wouldn't try that if I were you."
She looked up, having to tilt her head far back in order to meet his gaze. Her gaze was scrupulous and narrow, and she did not respond to what he said.
"There are four guards posted outside the door," he informed her. His purple eyes glanced back at it. A hand shot out and closed the door. Frasa grew rigid. "There are four more outside the glass doors."
He leaned in towards her, a hand gripping the back of her seat and the other leaning against the desk. Breath tickled her neck giving her goosebumps. "Now you should eat."
Frasa scoffed, rolled her eyes, and looked down at the food. Her firm gaze held it, arms crossed against her chest before she leaned down and sniffed it. While the aroma was pleasant, spices like cinnamon and nutmeg permeating the air, she was sure it was not what it appeared to be. It had to be a trick.
The Karz shook his head and chuckled slightly, grabbing the spoon from the bowl and mixing it around. Then, he scooped out a large portion and took a bite. Frasa watched carefully as he swallowed and placed the spoon back in the bowl.
"Not poisoned. See?"
"Why would you feed me? Why are you prolonging my execution?" Frasa asked sharply. She glanced around the lavish room. "A gilded cage so that I don't expect what's next?"
YOU ARE READING
Ascension: Isle of Draconi
Fantasy"Tell me little bird, who hurt you?" ... Her family was known as the Plyndrës- pillagers of the north. They invaded lands, stole great treasurers, and murdered those who stood in their way. But, their sins could not go unpunished, especially when th...
