A Warrior's Revenge

3. The stone castle

The male Fae's footsteps were silent on the cobblestones as he walked through the castle, Ciri following close behind. Ciri relished in every drop of hot water that cascaded down her skin in the bath. For the first time in three years, she was clean. She had managed to get the blood out of her hair and walking down the gloomy halls of the castle, she suddenly wished she had left the blood there to show the Queen of what she could do. When she had looked in the mirror, she almost grovelled. Her cheeks were hollow, and her body looked beyond repairing. The small white flecks of scars covered the entirety of her frame, along with the two menacing ones on her stomach, from her time at Eladrin. She trailed the powerful body only inches away from her. He had changed clothing since they had arrived and removed most of his weapons. Although the powerful silver sword was still fastened to his back. She had a feeling he never let it out of his sight.

He suddenly stopped, and Ciri used her lightning fast reflexes just in time so as not to run into him. She looked beyond his massive body, spotting a huge set of doors from ceiling to floor, embroidered with elegant carvings along the wood, swirls and swirls of different patterns causing her to catch her breath. She wanted to touch her fingers to them, to have every detail melt into her memory and feel the smoothness of the wood beneath her. The male turned around, staring her down making her lose her trail of thought. He was so much taller than her, his white hair blazing underneath the fire lamp hanging from the wall to her side, casting ghastly shadows on areas of his face and making his eyes burn bright. He angled his head and opened his mouth to speak, his arms crossed tightly along his chest.

"You will refer to her as nothing more than 'Her Majesty.' You will bow when I bow. You will only speak when spoken too and with responsible answers. Understand?" His deep voice seemed to echo off of the cobblestone walls and reverberate through her body. She shivered.

Ciri nodded, wanting to get this over with. The male opens the doors, stepping inside. Ciri follows his exact movements into a grand hall. Every part of this room was different to the rest of the castle. Instead of cold cobblestone floor and walls, long planks of polished wood panelled the room, stopping only to have windows bringing streaks of sunshine in. Red and white streaked marble illuminated in the shining room. Glass chandeliers hang all around the ceiling.  A large mural was on the far wall, and as far as she could see, it depicted an older woman pouring water from a large jug where a young peasant woman was collecting it below her. How odd, Ciri thought, to look at that every day.  A warm hearth was lit to the left of her, casting orange and red flickers across the hall, highlighting the shadows on the mural. The Fae stopped in front of her, just metres away from where the queen would be. She was concealed behind the Fae's powerful body. Ciri saw his legs bend at the knees and she knew she had to bow. When she stepped out from behind him, she kept her head low and her eyes to the ground as she got to her knees and the coldness of the stones seeped through her clothing. The Queen chuckled at her. Ciri's blood boiled as she felt self-conscious in the flimsy tunic and pants she was given to wear. Ciri raised her head, her hair pooling around her neck as she looked at the Queen sprawled on her oak throne.

Ciri knew she could back out now, she knew exactly how many steps it was to the door behind her. Sentries were posted all around her, arrows pointed at her heart. She breathed, willing her heart to stop beating erratically. She would have no chance of escape, not with the pure Fae to her side. He raised himself, and grabbing her elbow harshly, pulled Ciri up with him. His fingers dug in to her flesh.

"I once thought you were a myth, little white bird," The Queen mused. "It seems my dear Taelan has proved me wrong." The Queen's eyes moved to the Fae beside me.

Taelan's fingers clenched harder onto her arm as the Queen spoke although his face remained passive. Cirilla stayed silent, focusing instead on the pain his grip was having. She didn't want to be here in the presence of someone who came to power in such a vindictive way. She knew what the Queen was capable of, what she'd done.