14. Surviving Jezebel
Surviving Jezebel
T he next day, Mila waited with a despairing pit in her stomach for Jahan to tell Jezebel about the escape attempt. But for some reason, it never came. Perhaps he also noticed Jezebel’s new dislike for Mila in the week that followed the Artor Trading Company dinner party and realised that it hardly mattered whether he said anything or not. Whatever Christopher Culis had said about Mila to Jezebel had been enough to light a fire of jealousy in the princess, and although Mila tried her best, nothing she did could extinguish it. The unique camaraderie Jezebel had accepted from Mila in the days before the dinner were gone, and now she could barely look at her. When she did, it was with a sneer, usually coupled with an insult.
The countdown to the next Sacrament ticked on, and despite Mila’s vigilance, another opportunity for escape did not readily present itself. For two full weeks, Jezebel refused to take Mila with her to any social engagements and ensured that Mila was securely tied up and under guard whenever she was left alone. Mila never thought that she’d miss being paraded around as a spectacle, but she knew she needed to be outside the palace walls to make any break for freedom worthwhile. Inside the walls, the best chance she had to escape was to try befriend some of the serving staff, or even a guard, to help her, but she was cautious in her attempts, lest someone report her to Jezebel. Her meagre efforts yielded no results. The staff were either too devout, or too scared of Jezebel to entertain the idea of engaging with Mila in any kind of dialogue, let alone anything meaningful. So, for days on end, Mila found herself alone, tied to the bedpost in Jezebel’s magnificent parlour, with nothing to do and no one to talk to.
Mila was used to silence. She’d lived such an isolated life in the Highlands, venturing only briefly into the nearest town, Bori, for supplies she could not find herself. She ventured further only when a woman in childbirth specifically asked for her presence. Her name was whispered in those circles as someone to call upon only in the most dire of circumstances.
That was how she’d met Cari. Cari with the longest legs and the thickest mane of red hair Mila had ever seen. Cari with the stern husband, Oberon, who had sneered when Cari asked to meet with friends or have her own pursuits away from their two children, but who’d cried when he thought their third might not be delivered safely.
He had hunted Mila down, demanding her name from another nursing mother Mila had recently helped, and had practically dragged Mila through the forest to attend the birth.
What he couldn’t have anticipated was the connection that would grow between the two women in the months afterwards. The friendship and trust that had eventually turned into desire.
On those long days that Jezebel left her alone, Mila finally had time to dwell on her memories of Cari .
What would she have thought of Mila's disappearance? She would have certainly heard about the trial by now. News like that travelled fast and wide. Would she be feeling betrayed?
Mila had never told Cari outright that she was a demon, but she'd always assumed that Cari had figured it out by herself. Had she been the one to betray her?
Surely not.
But perhaps an offhand comment to Oberon had sparked his intrigue, and Mila wouldn’t put it past the stern husband to file a complaint with the local acolyte. Despite the fact Mila had known that he’d been growing suspicious of an affair, she'd found it too hard to leave. It was too heartbreaking to relinquish the sliver of acceptance that Cari’s companionship brought her. Too hard to accept a lifetime of loneliness again.
Look where that got you.
In some ways, recognising the reason behind her reckless addiction to Cari made her understand Jezebel better. Jezebel, although constantly surrounded by people, was also alone in this world. Mila had been the one person who could truly ‘see’ her, and now, thanks to Culis’s interference, Jezebel now felt threatened by her.
Mila sighed and wracked her brain. She needed Jezebel to trust her again. But how…?
And then it hit her.
Jezebel was jealous because she believed that Culis was more interested in Mila than in her. But what if Mila emphasised her interest in someone else? Would that help deflect from Culis’s attention? It might be enough to iterate to Jezebel that Mila was loyal to her and didn’t want to play into Culis’s game.
It was a risk, and it could backfire dramatically, but at this rate, Mila was going to spend the next month and a half tied to a bedpost, alone, with no chance of escape. So, without any other better options revealing themselves, she knew she had to try.
Jezebel returned home later that evening, and Mila ran her power over her, reading her energy. It was much the same as it always was after a social event – drained, lonely and hurt.
Mila tried to act happy to see her, but Jezebel brushed it away as she flopped onto the bed.
“I’ve had enough of sycophants today, demon. Come undress me, but keep your false happiness far away.”
“Mistress,” Mila said dutifully, bowing her head and moving to sit beside the princess, unlacing the ribbons that had been elegantly crisscrossed around her large bust.
“Fates, that’s better.” Jezebel moaned in relief as the cool air hit her naked, sweaty skin. Stormweek was close now, and even though night had fallen, the air was still hot. The weather was a constant reminder to Mila that her time was nearly up. If she was going to do something to save herself, it had to be now.
“Mistress, I wondered if I might ask you a question?”
Jezebel’s eyebrows flew so high they were nearly lost in her hairline. Mila rarely spoke when she was not being directly asked a question – let alone initiating.
“You might try,” she said slowly, obviously trying to decide whether she was intrigued or offended by the petulance. “And see what happens.”
Mila noted the threat and gulped but forced herself to push on anyway. “I was wondering if…if your guard, the one I kissed at the dinner a few weeks ago… Well, I was wondering if he’s…if he’s been asking after me?”
Mila didn’t need to act embarrassed or feign a blush. She was mortified that these words had even come out of her mouth, that, in these circumstances, she could be thought of as a silly, lovesick little girl. But she also needed to shock Jezebel and give her something other than Culis’s words to focus on.
It worked.
Jezebel sat up from the bed and stared for a long while at Mila, before a slow, predatory smile began to work its way across her mouth.
“You know you are to be sacrificed at the end of this season, demon, and yet, of all the things you could ask me, you want to know if a man likes you?”
“I…I…” Mila stuttered. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not appropriate. I’ve just had a lot of time to think since that dinner, and that kiss was…” She let the silence act as words for her.
Jezebel threw back her head and laughed, true amusement flooding through her. “Jahan is one of the most devout members of the household. His mother was a fisherwoman at the Village of Truth. She was among the first humans to follow the word of my father, and now, somehow, he’s gone and got a demon infatuated with him. Oh, he’ll be mortified. This is wonderful.” She clapped her hands in glee. “No, he hasn’t been asking after you. But now that you mention it, why shouldn’t he? You’re beautiful.” She said the last a little begrudgingly. Then added, “Ahh, I can’t wait to see how this all unfolds.” She lay back on her bed, hands clasped over her heart, emanating pure glee. “Oh my. You do really know how to make me happy. A new project is exactly what I need. We’ll start tomorrow.”
“Start?” Mila asked in confusion.
“Yes.” Jezebel gave no more information than that, but Mila knew that the idea of allowing Jahan to forge feelings for Mila, then breaking his heart when she was sacrificed, was Jezebel’s idea of ultimate entertainment .
It was a monstrous plan, but it had broken Jezebel’s ire towards her when nothing else had, and that was step one of the great escape plan accomplished.