She felt blessed, like the Stars themselves had granted her this. There was no limit, no rules or constraints. She was boundless; she was home, safe and secure in his unbreakable embrace.
~
Shackled in an abrupt and demanding upbringing, Althera is...
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Early the next morning, Althera rummaged through her drawer of clothes for her stash of canned foods she still remembered borrowing from the kitchen. They had been tucked away in the corner with all her gowns for quite some time, and it was time to take them out. She hadn't returned them yet, and it was certainly a waste if she did. But then there were jars of things she wouldn't even think of putting in her mouth.
Today was officially winter, which meant wearing her thickest gown and cloak. Red seemed a far too mirthful color for such a dreary day, but the material was soft and cotton-like against her skin. The cloak was the same as always, yet she was starting to find it quite irritating as the hood always bounced heavily against the hollow between her shoulder blades and as the hem wedged itself under her feet when she moved around.
She hadn't yet told Kartella that she was heading out for the morning - she was slightly scared of what the maid's reaction would be, seeing that she'd already hidden so many things from her, and she couldn't bear to deceive the maid any more. She didn't really like lying to people, unless there was a good reason to do so.
The hallways were busier before with servants hustling about with boxes in their arms. Althera looked on after them, her curiosity sparking. By the looks of all the strings of ribbons hanging over the edge of the containers, they were getting ready for some sort of celebration. She hadn't been told about it, and a frown made its way to her lips. It may not be that important at all, she told herself. It was just a trifle matter the king just wanted out of the way - there was no need for her to throw a tantrum because she hadn't received an invitation.
With a shrug, Althera carried on her way, running the different routes through her head carefully. She was always lost in these hallways, and it was exceptionally mortifying to have to ask for directions she desperately needed. Hopefully on this day she wouldn't have to. The place she was heading wasn't somewhere someone like her would be going. It would best for her to be focusing on which path she took.
Althera recognized the doors as soon as she saw them. She'd seen them before when being escorted by Dasher to Valentine's office. They were the ones that had caught her eye. Though no guards stood in front of the doors before, there were a pair now that the area wasn't empty. They stood with their hands on their swords, ready to defend the place or drive away any intruders like her. None of them saw her until she stepped up, her little bundle a little awkward in her arms.
"May I enter?" She asked, trying on her best smile. As expected from a guard, neither of them were unmoved. One of them eyed the bulging pouch, his scarred but still handsome face twisting warily.
"No one is to enter the dungeon, my lady," he answered. That one word sent thrashing chills down her spine. The more she remembered what she'd seen, the more she wanted to run away forever. But she held still and met the guard's eyes.
Why did she spend all night lying awake on her back in her bed and staring up at the ceiling while thinking Valentine would unconditionally grant her permission to enter the dungeon to visit that rebel that had infiltrated the castle the day before when she knew no one was prohibited to be anywhere near a prisoner? And she didn't want to sneak around again - she was tired of doing that, and whenever she tried to go about the castle without being noticed, the consequences were lethal and always broke her.
"Please, just this once," she coaxed, even though she knew their answers would be the same. There was no indecisiveness on their faces. It was clear who they obeyed and were irrevocably loyal to. But she had to get inside and see the woman. She was probably suffering so much right now, sitting alone in the dark with no one to care for her. The image of her rocking back and forth with her knees to her chest on the clammy ground reminded Althera of herself, shaking uncontrollably as she awaited her end in that forever damned cell.
Maybe she should make a break for it, though she knew deep down that she was never going to be able to overpower two massive guards almost a head taller than her. She didn't wantto be bad - to be rash and reckless in her decision-making. And if she continued on like that, there would be no end to it. There was no choice for her to make.
A sigh of defeat burst from her lips as she turned, knowing she'd been beaten. Her heart went out to the young woman. She was a failure, unable to protect the innocent from all that hurt and affliction. Why hadn't she just run away when she had the chance? She would've been able to save herself from all the pity she felt toward her actions and behavior. From all that grief that ached within her at the sight of a hurting soul. And rejection was always what she got for caring.
But a voice made Althera pause in her steps. "Let her go in," she heard. The two guards defending the dungeons faltered, a ripple of hesitation finally shifting the stormy features of their faces. A glance was shared.
"Your Highness, the king has ordered that the dungeon doors are to stay closed," one guard answered nervously, his hold tightening on his sword. Rhaye came up next to her, his warmth a breath of security that snaked around her.
The prince smiled - an arresting, earth-breaking smile. Althera froze along with the guards. "I have just come from the king's office, and he has allowed people in the castle to visit prisoners." A lie, perhaps, though Althera didn't care too much about that.
With one last exchanged look of reluctance, the guards stood to the side, prying open the complaining doors. It most likely hadn't been opened in a very long time, which meant the material used to construct the entrance was slightly more unyielding than before. But the doors swung wide and a stench very much like the distractingly nauseating one in the other dungeon in the heart of the castle reached her. She tried not to show her revulsion and sheer disinclination as Rhaye gestured for her to head in first.
The structure of the dungeon was very much the same as the other, and just as foul and dark and nasty. The only difference was the woman she saw crouched in the corner of the cell furthest from the exit. Her golden hair was now a range of yellows and browns, the tresses decorated with dirt and slime. Her eyes were closed with long lashes casting shadows over her cheekbones, and if she weren't sitting in a prison looking fallen and had frown lines engraved upon every bare spot of skin on her face, Althera would've believed she was a beautiful creature. Maybe she was, though it was hard to tell under that blanket of despondency.
Exhaling, she bent down in front of the woman, who suddenly looked up, her eyelids fluttering open. Rheumy brown eyes met hers, and Althera's heart gave a lurch.
