29 Dove
DOVE
I clutched the mug of calendula tea with both hands, willing them to stop shaking. Either from fatigue, fear, or fury, I couldn’t tell. But it wouldn’t do to show weakness of any kind in present company.
After taking another sweet, warming sip, I straightened my posture and looked back up at my captor. Solid golden eyes, unnerving in their impenetrability, gazed back at me again. I kept myself from flinching this time, just barely.
Zephyra li Novix crossed her lithe legs from behind the desk that separated us, trailing the sharp nails of one hand through her midnight-black hair absently.
It felt as if she could eat me up in careful bites with her gaze, see deep into my mind.
I’d encountered intimidating individuals before—certain matrons of the society set were not to be trifled with—but this tiefling guildmaster made them all look like declawed kittens.
I would run, but there was nowhere to go.
We sat in a large, bright room that seemed like her office, burly guards posted outside the door.
I was deep in the heart of the Takers Guild. A prisoner.
“So, little one,” Zephyra murmured in her throaty baritone. “What shall we do with you now?”
My pulse stammered, but I forced myself to hold her eye contact. “Um… release me?”
The guildmaster’s laughter rang out like rich, flowing silk. “I’m afraid not, my dove. Your particular gift makes you quite useful. And more importantly, keeping you is a deliciously perfect punishment for one of my more… hardheaded guild members.”
Maerryl.
Just the thought of her name pierced a sharp barb in my chest. She’d used me. Just as my parents did, just as Petra did. For my wealth. Lied to my face for weeks in order to secure the coin she needed.
Maerryl had never cared for me. Not really.
She’d wanted what I could give her, like everyone else.
And now, because of her, I’d be trapped here churning out jewels for a criminal the rest of my life.
She’d move on, find some other rich idiot to con.
Save her brother. Live happily ever after.
And I’d be nothing more than a shameful, buried part of her past. Forgotten. Unloved.
The barb multiplied, twisting deeper in my heart. My shoulders caved at the pain of it, and I curled around the small warmth of my tea mug. Furious tears prickled at the corners of my eyes.
“Come now,” Zephyra murmured. “You’ll be my guest in our guild. Your own room, and no one to bother you. I’m told you enjoy painting—I’ll arrange for supplies to be procured for you, whatever you need.”
“Ha, guest. A prisoner, you mean,” I said harshly.
Her long tail whipped up, startling me, as she shrugged.
“Perhaps. But there are worse fates.” Her gaze drifted away from me to inspect her sharp red nails.
I felt like I could finally breathe properly without those glowing eyes on me.
She said, “Do you know what it is to be truly hungry?
To have nothing in your belly for days and no hope of finding any scraps?
Have you ever been without your feather beds? Your blankets and pillows?
“I know your story, Dovenesdrea Wistrallo. You think you’ve known sorrow.
Loss. Heartbreak.” Zephyra’s golden eyes stared into me again, and I sat frozen, transfixed.
“You have no concept of what real life is like. What so many of us in Kurriel and beyond have faced. Face every day. And I would not wish it on you, or anyone.”
Words clogged in my throat. I wanted to tell her that I was trying. That I had plans for the manor, plans to change the lives of the less fortunate in my community. That I could see now. I’d been shielded my whole life, but these past weeks, I finally could see.
None of it mattered though. Because ultimately, she was right. I could witness and try to understand, but I’d never truly know. I’d never experienced the kind of hardship she described—that she herself seemed to have undergone.
But did that mean I deserved to have my freedom stripped away??
A knock rapped against the office door, and the guildmaster stood gracefully, calling out an order for them to enter. The guards, probably, to take me away. I gripped the handle of my mug tightly, looking into the wet dregs.
Zephyra hummed thoughtfully, and the click of her nails against desktop filled the silent room.
“Maerryl… what a curious surprise.”