🐲 Dragon and Phoenix (Path of Light and Fire Book #2) (Completed) 🐲

NSP 4: Flirting with a Firefly

"Might you be interested in a small diversion from work? I won't tell."

The rectangular black cloth at the bottom of the door fluttered, disturbed by the tray of food invading its space. The plate of whole oats and black beans scraped across the stone floor. A heavy dose of Yuan spices filled the room. It was followed by the echoes of heavy footsteps.

Fatima sighed. They never talked or made eye contact anymore. She peeked through the crack where the hinges met the door. They guard had stuffed cloth into his ears. She might as well be taking to the wall.

She stared at the plate, wondering why they kept her alive. They had not mentioned a trial or an execution. So she waited here in her cell. Wherever here was, anyway.

She sat down, discarding her scratchy, plain prison robe one black, but now faded to gray, she'd strategically ripped apart, leaving the more sensual parts of her body covered. It was amateurs that tried to seduce others with their nudity. The idea of what lay beneath was a stronger motivator than giving it all away.

The negative was that her dress had become an additional irritant. With each escape attempt, they'd gotten more careful and added layers of security, but one day a soldier would break protocol, thinking her tamed. She would be prepared for the opening.

I can play this game for eternity.

That was not entirely true. While her mind was a dagger, her beauty was the sledgehammer. Without magic or a connection to those in power, it was the one thing she possessed of value. Time would cause it to fade and the soldiers' hunger would wane.

If she wasn't executed by them.

She sat on the pale straw they called a mattress and considered her fate. Once upon a time she had been Merchant Governor of Sikati. She had money, servants and domain over the border dealings between Yua and Acadia. It was a solid post, but she wanted more and overplayed her hand.

Now she had nothing.

It was a bitter pill to swallow and Fatima rolled it around in her palm, refusing to take her medicine. This would not be the end of Bloodless Fatima. She did not become Merchant Governor despite no skill in fire, only to wither away in prison.

She would remain patient and wait for her opportunity to strike.

It was difficult to discern how much time had passed during her incarceration, nor did she has any real understanding of how she looked, but she knew she was not at her best. No water to bathe, no mirror to check her appearance and no makeup to enhance her features. She was still beautiful, she was sure, but she was not at her most beautiful. And in times like this, every detail mattered.

A low, steady hum filled her ears and an involuntary revulsion spread and gave her goosebumps. She hated insects – they were dangerous and carried all sorts of disease, but especially those with wings. Mere seconds of their hum would set her nerves on edge.

Even though she was nude and had no real protection, she slapped her hand on the back of her neck. Her other hand ready in case it fancied her a quick snack.

"Fatima..."

Fatima shook her head. Auditory hallucinations were one of the first effects of isolation.

She'd been in this cell for several days, isolated since her second escape attempt and would kill to talk to another human being.

"Fatima..."

"May your ancestors find you worthy," she said. If she were losing her mind, she may as well be polite.

"May they stand in paradise with yours. I'm hungry..."