Chapter 1 #3
‘You’ve got toothbrush, toothpaste, toilet roll, hand towel, and a comb.
You can buy more from the tuck shop once you start earning.
You wash your clothes in the sink, hang them to dry in your cell using the tie there.
’ Miss Goolan pointed out some white cord.
‘You want to use it to hang yourself, that’s on you, no one will care.
You shower in the morning, soap and towels are provided.
Lights out soon.’ She gave a small nod, then walked away, her brown shoes echoing.
Scarlen sat on the bed, pleased it was made, and took a moment to process, not that much made sense while her mind was so fatigued. She was about to get changed into green pyjamas and slip beneath the thin sheets when Miss Goolan returned.
‘You’re wanted by the warden.’
Scarlen jumped up enthusiastically, bringing curiosity to the guard.
‘What’s with the grin, Smithson? There are only three reasons the warden asks to see an inmate, and as you’re new, the first two won’t apply.’
Scarlen followed her, not caring what the reasons were. All she could think was that her father knew where she was and was about to set her free.
Miss Goolan yawned more than once on their way along corridors and through barred doors. Each step to the top of the building seemed to vex her even more as though she had somewhere else to be.
A sturdy sheet of steel made the door to Warden Cardell’s office, looking every bit as cold as the darkness in Miss Goolan’s eyes.
Scarlen waited as the guard knocked and a middle-aged woman answered, then she stepped inside once ordered.
Miss Goolan stayed outside, and the other woman led Scarlen to another metal door and told her to enter.
Warden Cardell had to be around fifty. His receding black hair, beady brown eyes, and pudgy nose reminded Scarlen of her father, except the king wouldn’t be seen dead wearing a black-and-gold tunic and trousers, a clear fashion statement from the north end of the south.
Further south wore such bright colours and less plain.
‘Warden Cardell,’ she greeted, hope bursting within.
He moved to her side. ‘If anyone asks why I called you here, tell them your aunt died.’
Not quite what she was expecting.
‘I know who you are,’ he added, his voice low, eyes scanning the closed door. ‘But no one else must ever find out. Your life here depends on that.’
She knew, but why wasn’t he telling her she was to be set free? ‘Erm—’
‘Your father has decided you’re to remain here. He hopes it will make a woman of you. It made a man of your brother when he was sent here during his rebellious stage.’
Scarlen swallowed hard, not quite sure if she could feel her legs anymore. ‘Milon was in here?’
‘When he was nineteen, he too served six months. Your father is proud of him.’
Of course he is. Milon is a mould of him now.
‘I don’t know what you did to piss off the king, but he’s not going to pardon you, so it’s best all round if you behave yourself and simply serve your time.
Unlike your brother, you put yourself here, and many before you have completed their sentence without any problems. Make sure I can add you to that list.’
‘But there are Rebels in here.’ And why is that my only issue?
‘They don’t know who you are.’
She furrowed her brow. ‘They were arrested for trying to kidnap me.’
‘They were caught outside the palace, and they only knew which wing you resided in. Hardly anyone knows your face. This is my first time seeing you. You don’t mix much, do you?’
‘I’m not allowed.’ Which is another reason I ran away.
‘Right, well, in here, you’re Scarlen Smithson. Stay that way and you’ll be safe.’
The scoff came out before she had time to think. ‘I’m in prison. How will I be safe?’
Warden Cardell looked almost insulted. ‘You’re to go back to your cell now. All will be well.’
There were many things to say, but there was no point.
All punishments from her father were cruel, and she figured this was his way of scaring the living daylights out of her.
But one thing she did know, the warden was on her side.
At least, she hoped. He was under the king’s orders, so surely he would make sure she was kept safe in prison.
Had Milon been safe or had he fought for his survival? You should have told me, Milon.
Miss Goolan eyed her suspiciously on their walk back to Green Block Two. ‘Who died?’
‘Aunt.’
‘You don’t look upset.’
‘I never liked her.’
Miss Goolan blew out a small laugh. ‘Cold, Smithson, cold. You’ll fit in well around here.’
She needed a distraction. Something to stop her insides from trembling, to halt the nausea twisting her gut. ‘What are the other reasons you get to see the warden?’
‘If you’re one of his snitches or you’re causing too much trouble.’
Handy to know.
Miss Goolan brought her to a stop at one of the barred doors, as another guard was leading an inmate through the door to its side. ‘I thought he was supposed to be out all night.’
The chatter between the guards about lightning, the metal parts of the pillory, and the warden’s orders faded as Scarlen met Bear’s glare.
Whoa, he really does have silver eyes.
She held his stare, not wanting to show weakness by looking away first. His hair was dripping streaks of water to each defined muscle on his torso that she could clearly see through her peripheral vision.
Miss Goolan was still talking as the staring competition continued.
So you’re the one who was going to kidnap me. And do what exactly?
She almost snarled at him and was quite sure an eyebrow quirked her way in return. The thought of punching him in the face didn’t go amiss, but at the difference in height she’d be better off aiming for his solar plexus, which still could be problematic, judging by how solid he was.
Both Dionne and the warden had advised she keep her head down and simply serve her time.
The Rebels didn’t know her, she was as safe as anyone on Horstal Island, and so it was for the best she didn’t go around eyeballing people.
So, against her will, she looked away, then immediately regretted it when she heard a short mocking huff.
‘Move, Vyer,’ said the male guard holding him.
Bear glanced over his shoulder as he was led away, his cold stare directed at Scarlen, and a shiver ran down her spine as realisation hit hard. With or without bars, she would never be free, and even without her father’s input, there would always be someone out there wanting to hurt her.