Staring down at my lap in resignation, I note then that although it appears that the rest of me has healed from my countless injuries, my right limb remains red; the maroon continues to completely cover my hand and fingers.
There is no pain but the sight gives me chills anyway, the mark of this world branding me permanently.
•••••••••
The rest of the evening goes fairly uneventful, a reprieve I am grateful for. Alistar brings me to my temporary chambers, as promised, and it turns out to be just a bedroom full of antiquated furniture and a humble fireplace. The bed frame is painted a faded jade green, the color catching my eye as well as the floral pattern hand-painted along the front, back and sides. The flowers, possibly once red but now a pale pink, are bordered by a golden filigree that reminds me of something a grandma would cross-stitch.
"This will be your room for now. There is a private toilet and bathing area off to the right. It's old as dirt and nothing fancy, but it's been thoroughly cleaned by Berta prior to your arrival. The toilet works fine but if you'd like to bathe, just knock on the door and we'll have her bring you warm water and scented oils to fill it. The bedroom door will be locked from both the inside and out―you are not permitted to leave unless Viannah or I come to collect you. However, this also means that no one will bother you, and that is a reassurance I can guarantee. The door will be guarded on the outside at all times, no exceptions." Alistar delivers these instructions matter-of-factly, gesturing to certain areas of the room as he describes them.
"Thank you-" I pause, wondering how I should even address him. He referred to me as 'Ms. Byrne,' but I have not the damndest clue what his last name is. Should I just call him 'sir'? Or maybe just by his first name...?
"Just call me Alistar." He answers my unspoken question, reading my face like an open book. I blush in mortification, although it's really not my fault that I don't know what to call him. I still don't trust him much more than I trust anyone else I've encountered around here; he is technically with these people keeping me hostage, after all.
"Thank you, Alistar. May I ask you, though, how can you guarantee my safety? That Lira dude really seemed to have it out for me-" He cuts me off, waving his hand like such a concern is irrelevant.
"Don't worry about that. I can guarantee your safety because I'll be the one guarding the door, excluding this evening as it will be my first lieutenant Inez due to a prior pressing matter of mine. Inez is an extension of myself―I'd trust her with my own life so I certainly trust her with anyone I'm responsible for. I know you have more questions but I must handle some misbehaving grunts that will only comply with my direct discipline, and I predict it will take longer than I hope. I'll be back later on this evening or early on the morrow. Please rest up and wait here for me." He bows his head and then departs, leaving me staring after him like the idiot I am before I can even respond.
Okay Sianna, just think for a second.
First, I need to pee, desperately. I make my way over to where Alistar pointed out the bathroom, relieving myself on the rickety toilet and then cleansing my hands and face in the glass bowl of fresh water they have waiting for me. It is the perfect temperature, warm but not too hot, the sensation penetrating through my skin and down to my bones. I rinse off my arms in the bowl as well, wanting to stretch my alone time a little longer before asking the woman called Berta for enough water to fill the tub up. I lean over the small counter and inhale deeply through my nose, holding my breath for as long as I can manage before I let it out meticulously slow through my mouth.
Just breathe. Everything is going to be okay, you are not about to have a panic attack. Just breathe...slowly. No hyperventilating, no panicking about things we cannot control; just breathing.
YOU ARE READING
Sianna and the Soulweaver
FantasySianna Byrne likes her life for most part, although she's going through a bit of a rough patch. 31 and a museum coordinator in Chicago, she's been struggling with longtime boyfriend James and has been feeling like something was missing for a while n...