The Charlatan

12. Shooting the Breeze

Priyanka awoke feeling dazed. She could not see very well; vague shapes and colours on the grayscale rocked slowly, side to side. She felt numb and when she tried to stand, it was as if her body ignored her will as strongly as she willed the movement itself. It took her a long time to move a muscle, and even then it was only her fingers, followed by her hands.

She and Safiya had been sitting together on a bench inside the infirmary on the outskirts of the capital when the nurse that had been tending to them suddenly rushed back into the room after leaving not moments before. Accompanying the nurse were several guards sporting the regal gold of the country of Velt. Without so much as a word, they grabbed the sisters and escorted them out of the safety of the medical centre. Safiya's arm had yet to be treated, not to mention Priyanka's entire lower half, as the staff had only managed to take care of the most visible wounds first. Strict protocols and careful mutual communication were required to access more intimate parts obscured by clothing.

As Priyanka blinked away her drowsiness, suspecting she and her sister had been sedated to keep them asleep, the room she was in gradually came into focus. There were rough gray walls, complemented by gray ceilings, a gray floor, and shining silver bars in place of a fourth wall. The room had a couple of cots, equipped with common-quality blankets. The only other occupant was a small young lady with dirtied clothing and long hair loosely tied back. Her features were fair, and she carried the sharp jaw of the far north. It was clear that she was Genesese. She sat staring at the silver bars across the room. Priyanka could not tell if the grimace she wore was in hatred of whoever had put her here or if that was her natural cast.

Unfortunately, Priyanka knew little Genesese, and that little that she knew was strictly conversational. Few from the northern peaks wandered far enough down to Dehi to reach her and her sister's shop. She had no idea what to say to a criminal she shared a jail cell with, nor if she should even engage in conversation at all. Now that she was fully awake, Priyanka was acutely aware of the fact that she could not move her legs. There was no way to run, nor a where.

As Priyanka continued peering at her cellmate, silently asking the gods to protect and guide her, the Genesese stood up and walked towards her. She made firm eye contact, but Priyanka did not look away. In her mind, appearing genuine was better than risking looking meek in a place like this.

The Genesese knelt down next to Priyanka and said something. Priyanka was unable to understand more than the 'you' pronoun. The Genesese was clearly talking about her. When the fair-haired criminal did not receive an answer, she sighed and pointed to herself.

"Honey," she said, before pointing at Priyanka and raising an eyebrow. Her lips were still set in a grimace, but Priyanka considered herself fortunate to not be suffering further beating.

Priyanka answered, gesturing to herself, "Priyanka."

The Genesese, Priyanka now assumed named Honey, nodded and pointed to Priyanka's legs. She spoke slowly, making an effort to soften her accent so that Priyanka could parse her utterance. "Are you unwell?" The vocabulary Honey was using was basic enough that Priyanka recognized it. She nodded her head and croaked out a "Yes" in Genesese.

Honey's expression softened. She motioned to pick Priyanka up, silently inquiring if it was all right to do so with a quirk of her eyebrow. Priyanka answered with a light smile, making a surprised noise when Honey picked her up with ease. Honey's clothes were loose, but now that she was up close Priyanka could feel the strength they obscured. Honey set Priyanka down on one of the cots and helped move her so she was sitting against the wall. She joined Priyanka on the cot and the two of them looked out through the silver bars that held them here.