Chapter 41
J A N E
I ’ve decided I don’t like circular rooms. Or being thirsty. My lips are so dry they’re like rubbing two pieces of linen together.
If my rations are being limited to make me go crazy, it’s working. It feels like everywhere I look is a wall curving in on me, not a corner to be found.
Lying on the bed, I turn the silver pendant Anya gave to me, still hooked on a chain; every time I feel like being weak up here, I think of Anya. It’s been three days since she was executed in front of me, and I still only half believe it to be true.
It’s not fair she’s gone. No one was supposed to follow me here. I eye the wren, the silent object the loudest thing in this room. I never had anything of my mother’s to look at, no stagnant echo of a life that once burned so profoundly.
This pendant harbors many stories that I’ll never know. I don’t know when they met, only that it was in Death’s Wing. Or who confessed their love first, or who flirted first, or what their favorite trait of the other was.
No, those details died with them.
I now hold their tombstone.
And for what? What have I done to deserve this sacrifice? Be of Soren’s interest? She did this all of her own accord, and yet I can’t help but wonder what I could have done differently.
There’s nothing else to do in here but sulk.
I sigh, the muscles in my face heavy. I had to free her, even if maybe I should have left her. There’s a chance she’d be rotting right now, but alive . I barely knew Anya, and yet this cuts deeply at me; my chest breaks with an emptiness, and the tears flow again. “Anya, you idiot, why did you do this?”
Her death has shattered me, in a way. I feel responsible to carry her shadow. I witnessed her last moments, and I can testify how strong she was, even to the very end.I tuck the pendant underneath my shirt as the new lady’s maid named Iris should be approaching soon to bring me my food, based on the lighting of this room from the sun. I don’t dare let anyone witness I have this.
Marissa has been reassigned, per Blackwell’s command.
Once Jesper fell and was being healed, I was whisked away back up here and carried like a sack of potatoes, forbidden to leave under any circumstance unless escorted by Misery or Blackwell. “ Pain is not a motivator for you like it is for others. Not having direction, I think, is a far worse punishment. You will stare at these walls until we are all leaving, Ritter . Jesper will suffer his own torment.”
In some way, whatever they’re doing is working. There’s been no beating, no punishment. Which confuses the shit out of me. So, I refused food for the first two days. On the third day, I had destroyed the room like back in the Black House, and they tied me up and forced food down my throat, pinching my nose so I had to chew just so I could swallow and breathe. They even brought a tube made of glass and poured bone broth down my throat.
How tempting it was to bite it and let it cut me from the inside.
But I didn’t, because I will not let Anya’s death be wasted. So, I complied as they cleaned my room, and not a word was spoken about punishment.
Misery is just letting everything be .
Stupid cunt.
I hate this.
It’s a language I don’t understand. I know violence. Corporal punishment. Torture, even.
Will Soren be angry that Anya died on my watch? That she technically died for me? Anya literally saved me from every kind of assault out there, as they apparently believed her. I’ve heard, through Iris, that no one believes I did it. It makes more sense that a Death’s Wing assassin was responsible.
I fucking owe that woman.
Cypress had to know… she told Anya to come, so she could take the fall of the task Cypress gave me…
At some point, when do I see this free will the witch spoke of?
When the sounds of someone nearing the room pulls me from my mind, I sit up and wait for food to be pushed through the flap in the door, the one I’ve opened and stared through to watch the empty staircase about thirty times a day as a part of my routine.
The new lady’s maid is silent and cautious with me, and I’m shocked when the door opens. I carefully rise to my feet, my body aching without any of the distractions to forget what it’s been through.
Including my forearm that I barely healed with my depleted energy.
Soren .
Iris enters the room, her black hair tied back into a bun, her bumpy nose a little red today, and she’s sniffing quite a bit as she checks the bedding for bleeding, along with my clothes in an undignified search for my monthly cycle; tracking of it begins now . “Bring in her food,” she orders to a brute at the door. He carries a tray to me, smacking it on the bed as things jostle around.
“Traitor,” he grumbles, glaring at me through bushy eyebrows.
“The only traitor here is you , because you won’t bring me fresh water , ” I hoarsely say, coughing slightly, leaning over to grab the pitcher and show how empty it is. “Kind of hard for my body to work without it, like your precious god wants.”
The guard’s eyes flare as if I’ve called his mother a donkey, the man nearly backhanding me, but Iris holds her hands out in the air. “No! Don’t. Morvock says not to touch her unless it’s to make her eat.”
“We won’t be repeating that ,” I say through tight lips, taking a giant bite out of the bread, only to nearly choke when my mouth is so dry I can’t swallow. “But seriously, water?” I ask, crumbs spitting out. “I need to be watered.”
I’ll forever think of it that way after Soren. That man feels so far away now… I almost glance at the piece of mask in my arm, but refrain in case they notice.
Iris purses her lips and grunts, taking the pitcher as she motions for the guard to leave, locking the door once more on her way out. Shadows at the bottom of the door tell me that the guard is still standing by, which he rarely does.
Interesting.
So far, I’ve been watching every move of this new guard and Iris, wondering if I could kill them to escape… except I have no idea how many guards are down the stairs after everything that happened.
Don’t worry. Something will present itself .
I want to believe that Anya was right about freeing the siren, and that people will be coming.That Melona was right to suggest people are coming for me.
I eat my food once a pitcher is placed inside my room, right at the door, before it locks again. I drink leisurely, so as not to make myself nauseous. The food goes down easier, and I slowly eat my bread and apple as I stare out the window at the ocean, knowing I’m facing the wrong way. If they’ll come from anywhere, it’ll be south, or southwest. This faces north, toward an open ocean before we come across Misery’s island. I know nothing about it other than it’s very secluded, and apparently named Boneglass.
It’s crossed my mind that I can find a way to end myself. Get rid of Misery’s grand vision and save lives. Maybe commit to it as I take out another, like Blackwell or Jesper. Some way to make it worth it.
I just don’t have it in me, yet.
Not yet. Not with Anya’s sacrifice. Not with the oath I gave Soren that I’d find his sister for him. She’s suffered too , which means I can endure whatever is yet to come.
They’ll regret ever taking me.