Bludston Hall

Princess Talia spent the night in a dark cell. She was provided with a pitcher of water and a rag, but she ignored it and lay filthy and disheveled in the pile of straw meant as bedding. The Prince would come to collect her soon, and her grime and foul odor were the only protection she had.

She knew that he did not lie to the Emperor when he said that he wanted her. She was not naive enough to be unaware of the reason his eyes so often found her. It was years earlier, when he'd come to Gelt to convince Queen Ora to attend a peace discussion with the Emperor, that she'd first suspected it. His eyes had followed her often then. Those dark eyes were animal-like in their lack of emotion, but they were hungry-- starving almost.

In those days, she'd silently taunted him, pretending not to notice that the strap of her underdress had slipped down across her bare arm at the table, or sitting down in a way that exposed her leg, as though by accident.

She'd hated him even then, of course. Prince Mikhail had murdered her father. He'd led an attack on the Temple during the last day of the Ghela Holiday. Knowing that the King would be there and likely undefended only because a ridiculously stupid child had mindlessly related the information to him years before. He'd taken a large piece of her heart that day, and it was made worse by the fact that she'd basically opened her own chest and shown him exactly where to stab.

That he watched her the way a hungry wolf chained just beyond the reach of a flock of fat hens would, gave her no small amount of satisfaction while she was safely ensconced in Vezda's most secure fortress. She'd been too confident back then, believing that if she made herself appear as delicious a meal as possible, the wolf would pounce, displaying its violent nature to one and all. He would be caught and punished immediately, and there would be no ridiculous peace talks. Ora would not leave for Hirkovist with a man who had tried to assault her sister.

But the wolf stayed in his pen and only watched with hungry eyes. The wolf, she understood now, had been playing the long game, and after all these years, she was to be tossed into the cage with him.

Never, she would never allow such a thing to happen! She would die first! At the first opportunity she found, she would escape him by cutting her own throat or jumping from some high place. He would have to watch her every second of every day to stop her, and that was not possible.

Of course, the Prince spoke to the Emperor as though he'd already had her, but that simply couldn't be true! He had only pretended so to keep his men away from her, but it was strange that he would lie to the brother he guarded and served with his life. Was it possible? Had he taken advantage of her while she was ill and unguarded?

She felt sick again at the very thought of it, but there was nothing left in her stomach to vomit.

The Emperor's guard came for her in the morning, and immediately recoiled in disgust upon seeing her.

"This is the Princess of Vezda I'm to deliver to Prince Mikhail?" he scoffed, his voice raised in disbelief.

"So, I'm told," the jailer replied with a shrug.

"Filthy creature, isn't she? I wonder if it was meant as a punishment to our Prince," the guard shook his head in disbelief.

"I was expecting you to come for her last night," the jailer frowned. "I've had to smell this mess for almost half a day now, I think the smell's gotten into my clothes."

"Yes, well, our Emperor wished to celebrate his brother's return from war with a feast, and then the Prince and his men spent the rest of their night brothel-hopping-- full of high spirits, those fellows," the guard frowned as though he disapproved.

"Oh, to be young again," the jailer remarked snidely as he unlocked her cell. "Come and get her then, I'll not touch her if I can help it."

The guard wrinkled his nose in distaste, but entered the cell and yanked her up by one arm.

"Get up, filthy Vezdan whore," he snarled. "Come on now, we've hours of travel before us to reach Bludston."

Talia allowed him to bind her wrists and lead her from the cell. He dragged her up the steps from the prison to a small courtyard where a horse and carriage sat waiting, and then opened the door and tossed her in, upon the floor.

Talia sat up as soon the door slammed behind her. The carriage was empty. She waited nervously to the sound of footsteps outside, and then the carriage swayed as the guard climbed up to sit beside the coachman. There came the sound of the whip and then they began to move.

It appeared that Prince Mikhail would not be accompanying her. She smiled, even though it hurt her face to do so. She had received several blows to the face from the Emperor's men the day before, and overnight her cheek had swollen painfully.

She struggled against the ropes that tightly bound her hands together, but she could not free her wrist. She lifted her hands to her face, using her teeth to pick apart the knots that held the rope fast.

It took a great deal of time, and she was discouraged several times as the carriage bounced and jolted its way toward Bludston, tossing her this way and that, but at last she was able to loosen the ropes enough to slip one hand out.

Talia ripped her other hand free of the strands and tried the door of the carriage only to find it locked from the outside. She glanced around, carefully looking over the interior to see if there was anything she could use. If she broke the window, the guard and coachman would likely notice immediately. There was nothing in the carriage but two seats and a shelf for luggage.

Quickly she ran her hands across the seats, digging into the cracks between the cushions and then across the shelf.

"Ow!" she cried as something sharp cut her finger.

Sucking her finger reflexively, she slowly moved her other hand to the back of the shelf to determine what had cut her.

The wood of the shelf had cracked and a small splinter has risen up slightly. Determined, Talia dug her nails under the splinter and tried to break it off. It did not come easily. She took the end of the discarded rope and slid it under the raised part of the splinter to increase the pressure, and then dug her fingers in again and pulled.

With a loud crack, a small, jagged piece of the shelf broke off into her hand.

It wasn't much, but at least it was something. But what to do with it? She had no idea how far it was to Bludston. If she jammed it into her wrist or neck would she actually be able to bleed out and die before she was discovered? It would be incredibly painful. She'd far rather use it on Prince Mikhail, but that would be a clear violation of the Treaty and the Emperor would have a reason to stop sending food to Vezda. Of course, they themselves had already violated the Treaty, if Prince Mikhail had indeed taken advantage of her, but who would fight on her side and who could she raise a complaint with?

In the end, she hid the jagged shard in her undergarment and wrapped the rope around her wrists, securing it between the palms of her hands to make it look as though they were still tightly bound, and sat again on the floor to wait.

When the carriage finally stopped, it had begun to grow dark. She got to her knees and crawled towards the window peering over the ledge at the daunting structure before her.

Bludston Hall was, like its owner, massive. High stone walls buttressed by spires capped with strange stone monsters supported a slate roof with numerous peaks and gables. The many arched windows facing her were all dark and gave the place an empty or abandoned sort of look.

The door opened suddenly, causing her to lose her balance and pitch forward. The guard caught her by the back of her neck, stopping her only a few inches from the ground. He then dropped her abruptly and wiped his hand on his tunic.

Talia hit the ground with a thud and groaned audibly.

"Bludstone Hall," he announced, "Looks like no one is home."