Identity

Chapter One

I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cower. They could beat me all they wanted but they would not see me cower. I held my chin up, clenching my jaw shut. My hands stretched straight out in front me, held out by the chafing rope that tied them together. I stared detachedly on the blood that ran from my wrists soaking the rope and dripping to the filthy tile walkway.

They guard jerked the rope again forcing me to take another miniscule step. We’d been at this for hours. Him jerking me, one centimeter at a time, me inching backwards whenever he accidently gave me a bit of slack. One of the guards sneered. “Let’s see if you can keep that smug look on your face when they whip you, you entitled little shrew.”

I slowly turned my head to look at him and was jerked forward another step. I stared him down with a look that promised that if this rope was to suddenly fall from my captor’s hands I would happily tear him apart. He swallowed once nervously and looked away. That’s right. look away you scared little rabbit. I’m the one about to be be whipped within an inch of my life, but you can’t even look me in the eye.

I rolled my eyes and turned my eyes back to my wrists. drip drip drip.

I wondered if anyone else was as fascinated by my dripping blood as I was. After all, weren’t they the bloodthirsty ones?

The frustrated guard leading me to capitol building stopped as we approached the steep stairs that led up to it. He stared up at the sky for a moment, making sure to keep my leash tight, before he started up the steps. I let myself be dragged to the base of the stairs before I suddenly stopped and jerked back on my rope. The guard holding the other end of it staggered, almost falling over backwards down the stairs. He spun around and shot me a look of murderous anger I met with an innocent grin. The other guard, the one who called me a shrew, raced back down the steps and grabbed me around the waist, meaning to drag me up the stairs.

I hissed and rammed my elbow back, straight into his nose. He fell back, blood gushing from his nose. He screamed obscenities at me as I stood there calmly looking at him. The guards stationed around the doors of the capitol building ran down the stairs and surrounded me instantly, dragging me painfully up the stairs and through the doors, throwing me gracelessly to the floor when we reached the whipping post.

I sat up as best as I could and spat out a bit of blood. stupid stairs. I looked up at the head physical enforcer, sitting high above me in a large elevated chair like a throne, the whip in his hand like a scepter. He lounged across it, his feet thrown over the armrest self importantly. I glared at him, my green eyes meeting his deep blue ones. He cocked his head a little at my impertinence.

He sat up straighter, suddenly seeming interested. “Who’s this?” He ordered the guards. I doubted he said anything without using that same demanding tone. I continued to glare at him, wishing my unadulterated hate could somehow do him harm simply by looking at him.

The guard I almost pulled down the stairs cleared his throat. “Kiernan Fae Accusavit, murderer, rightless.”

I tensed as he read off the extra titles. Murderer, murderer, murderer flashed through my mind over and over again but not so much as the second title… rightless. No rights. No life. No choice. No longer a person, an object. Someone who has lost the privilege of acting for themselves and so have become property of the government, something to be acted upon, not a person, a thing. Everything I’d ever heard about the rightless ran together in my head, trying to match up with who I was… I couldn’t compute. Couldn’t wrap my head around this new aspect of my being.