♤53. William Bradley🕷⚠️

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Trigger warning: This chapter might contain content that some may find triggering.

Maria shivered in her cell, her fingers icy as she clutched her own arms, desperate for warmth. Shadows clung to every corner, and the stone walls seemed to close in tighter with each passing day. A faint light poured through a barred window, high above, unreachable even if she stretched. She narrowed her eyes and tried, pressing her foot against the wall, her fingers straining toward the ledge.

"You cannot climb out, girl," came a voice, gruff and low, from the cell next to hers. Maria's breath hitched, her heart leaping at the sound. She pressed her lips together, hesitant, but answered, "I know... but I'm trying to see where we are." Her voice, a murmur thick with exhaustion, barely bridged the silence.

A dark shape appeared through the crack in the wall, a pair of shadowed eyes watching her intently. "Bonnet's wife," he murmured, as if piecing together a puzzle. Maria froze, her hands falling from the wall as she slowly approached the crack, curiosity mingling with the dread that had been her constant companion.

"Who are you?" she asked, breathless, her voice trembling. In the dim light, she could see his face more clearly: rough, with a short beard framing a mouth set into a hard line. His gaze met hers through the crack, unwavering.

"Marcin Borowski. Brother of Izydor," he replied, his accent thick and foreign, each word heavy with hidden meaning. Maria's mind swirled with questions, but before she could speak, heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway. Her pulse quickened, dread prickling up her spine.

The door swung open with a metallic clang. Two guards entered, towering figures casting shadows that danced across the cold floor. Their eyes swept over her with a cruel satisfaction, one of them smirking as he approached.

"Your husband struggled from the noose when he was hanged," one sneered, his voice soaked with mockery. Maria's breath caught in her throat, and for a heartbeat, she couldn't move. It felt as though the room had collapsed inward. Before she could find words, he tossed something onto the floor-Stephen's garnet ring, the one she had given him on his birthday. The world blurred as she dropped to her knees, hands scrambling for it, fingers closing around the small, cold reminder of him.

"Some comfort for you... when it's your turn," Maria's heart clenched as she stared at the ring at her feet. The guards sneered, their laughter cold and mocking. One of them moved closer, the rough leather of his gloves grabbing her breast through her blouse, his fingers digging into her skin just long enough to make her stomach twist. She flinched, but he only grinned wider, his hand moving with purpose as he grasped her braid.

Before she could react, the guard drew a knife, and with a swift, brutal motion, sliced through her hair. Her braid loose in his hand, the guard dropped the severed braid at her feet. A painful reminder of all she was losing.
As Maria's gaze dropped to the braid lying before her, one of the guards picked it up, his eyes glinting with a twisted satisfaction. He held it to his nose, inhaling deeply as though savoring something forbidden, his grip possessive and deliberate. Then he gave her a twisted smile as he straightened. "A little keepsake," he taunted, backing away with a chuckle. The sight sent a chill down Maria's spine, anger and helplessness battling within her as he tucked the auburn braid into his coat. He glanced back with a smug smile, leaving her cold and unsettled as he closed the cell door behind him.

Alone, Maria cradled the ring to her chest, waves of grief and shock seizing her. She lowered her head, silent tears spilling over, as her shoulders shook with muffled sobs. In the cell next to her, Marcin's presence remained a quiet shadow, still and watchful, as if allowing her sorrow the space to echo through the dark.

Stephen sat in the dim cell, his wrists and ankles bound in heavy iron, his muscles tense beneath the weight of the chains. He kept his expression as still as stone, though his mind seethed, flickering between escape plans and thoughts of Maria. When the cell door creaked open, Stephen's gaze didn't flinch as he took in the shadowed figure standing before him.

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