The Goblin's Crown

Chapter Seven: Judas

 Once I was laced tightly into the dress, Lily sat me down again and began smearing a white paste over my face that worked well in hiding the bruises. Then she painted my lips and cheeks the same vibrant red as the ribbon on my wrist.

It's remarkable what you'll notice about someone's hands when you're fully expecting them to strangle you with them. Her thin fingers wove through my gold hair, twisting and pinning. Twisting. Pinning. Having her behind me and out of my direct sight, made my heart race with unease. My mind followed each and every solitary movement and touch. Her fingers were nimble and her hands small, tiny as a child's. Each finger bore calluses. She had not always lived in this brothel. Nor was she the fallen daughter of some merchant or lord. She'd once worked with these hands. Held tools with them. A farmer's daughter?

For the briefest of moments, I dared a glance towards my goblin guards. They sat at my feet, watching intently with frightening eyes. When I was in the Underground...at their ruler's side, I had not been frightened of them at all really...not until the Hollow when they'd shown their taste for bloodshed and violence. When they'd grinned those wolfish grins like the crowd at my father's hanging. I wanted so desperately to ask them what they thought Lily was planning or knew. What was it that was twisting her soul?

"You have such pretty hair," Lily said, snapping me back to attention. "It's so yellow. Like gold coins."

"Thank you," I said, watching her hands move out of the corner of my eye and hating how insanely vulnerable I felt. She could slit my throat from ear to ear that very moment if she wished. "Lily, how long have you been working here?" I asked, trying to keep her busy. "It hasn't been a long time, I'm guessing."

Her hands stopped. She stepped out from behind me. Her arms wrapped around her own waist as if she were standing in the middle of a snowstorm or was feeling violently ill. "It feels like a lifetime." She smiled that fake smile even as she said this. "I was thirteen when I started. So... seven years, I think. Perhaps more."

That meant she was twenty-one. Only a year older than I was. Bile rose in my throat at the thought. "Were you sold here?" I asked.

She shook her head. Her eyes were downcast. "I came here on my own. My parents died of fever. I had nowhere else to go." She paused. Fear flickered like a flame in her clear eyes. "Why are you asking all this?"

"I'd just like to get a better feel of my brother's...friends." I gave her a fake smile of my own. "I simply asked a few questions. You freely answered them. No one's sticking a candle under your feet to make you talk." I shifted in my chair uncomfortably, struggling not to squirm, and I clamped my mouth shut to keep from screaming as my guards climbed up my legs and settled themselves in my lap like a pair of toddlers.

"Twisty. Twisty." Chanted the Pig-nosed.

"Watch it bruise. Watch it fester." The Rat-tailed's mouth stretched too wide, nearly splitting its head apart with its jagged teeth. It climbed further up and perched itself on my shoulder. I tried not to cringe at the feel of its tiny, clawed hands touching the lobe of my ear. "Watch her throat. Watch her gulp. The muscles and tendons flex. Watch her eyes. See them twitch." It whispered. Its ice-cold breath tickled my ear.

Lily had gone silent. I noted her heavy swallowing and the twitching of her eyes. They kept darting from me to the door and back again. The color had drained from her face. The fake smile was slowly beginning to fall. A mask crumbling from its master's face. Leaving it naked to the cruel world. "Is there something wrong, Lily?" I asked with mock concern.

My question panicked her. The color finished draining from her cheeks. The smile vanished, replaced with a genuine expression of fear.

A sudden knock at the door made both of us jump. Lily rushed to the door at once and threw it open. "Oh, it's you, Jane." She said pulling the door closer to her so that the visitor couldn't see me. Lily sounded surprised to see her, whoever it was. There was an older woman standing outside the door. She could not see me, but I could see a bit of her. She was short and rotund. Her dark hair was beginning to turn gray.