Chapter Twelve #2
She was so close that she could smell his foul breath, even though it was too dark to clearly see his face. Fighting to escape his grasp, she heard the creaking of metal, as if a door was opening. The man suddenly let go of her and disappeared into the shadows of his cell.
Turning toward the front of her own cell, she saw Mereck. He was holding a torch, lighting the open doorway and small hallway behind him. Then he stepped inside, shut the door, and slid the torch into a hook on the wall.
“I hear your name is Dahlia,” he said. “Daughter of the late king, himself. Princess of Sire.”
The way he spoke was unnerving. He almost sounded impressed to meet her. When he stepped toward her, she moved backward until she met the wall behind her and could go no further.
“I’m afraid I’ve heard nothing about you,” Dahlia said, steadying her voice, trying to hide her fear. She had no idea what this wizard could want with her, but she did know he couldn’t be trusted.
“Seeing as the queen is determined to have you executed at the end of the week, I won’t waste time introducing myself. You won’t be around long enough for it to matter.”
“Did you come here to tell me my fate?”
“No. I came here for something I believe you may have. Something I need.”
“I don’t have anything you need.”
“No? Tell me then, how did you change your appearance? I may have seen the real Dahlia, but I know now that no one else did.”
“I bought a potion from a wizard.”
“A potion?” Mereck considered her answer as he stepped up to her. A potion wouldn’t be as strong of a magic and would explain why he could see through it. “Now how do I know I can trust you, Princess?”
Dahlia didn’t respond. The wizard’s silky voice wasn’t the least bit comforting.
“Just in case…” he said. Mereck summoned air magic, wrapping it around Dahlia’s arms to keep her still.
Before she knew what was happening, he reached out and grabbed the top of her dress. In one quick motion, he ripped the cloth down to her waist, revealing her breasts, but nothing more. Just to be sure, he felt under her skirts, running his hands along her legs and the curve of her hips.
Dahlia was repulsed by being manhandled by the wizard, but she couldn’t move. Her arms and ankles were being held while he searched her. He didn’t find whatever he was looking for, however. The wizard ended his search and stood to face her again.
“I must admit, Princess, that I have not had the pleasure of a woman since coming to this worthless kingdom.” He took a strand of her curly blonde hair and twisted it around his finger. “Any other time and this could be beneficial for the both of us.”
Dahlia jerked her head away, but Mereck grabbed a fistful of her hair and sniffed it, sending chills down her body, from head to toe.
She braced herself, knowing what was coming.
She would learn how it felt to be taken advantage of.
Just like she had done to Rowan. And she knew she would deserve it too.
Only, it didn’t happen.
The wizard backed away and released the magic that was holding her, causing Dahlia to sag against the wall.
“Unfortunately, it seems my search shall continue and I’ve no time for distractions. I would say ‘until we meet again’, but I predict we won’t.”
And just like that, he was gone, slamming the door closed, leaving the torch behind.
Gasping for breath, Dahlia crawled into the corner.
The amulet… it was gone. Even the chain was no longer around her neck.
Mereck didn’t say what he wanted, but it seemed obvious to her that he was looking for the amulet.
Could she have lost it? Thankfully, the wizard had left the torch.
She grabbed it off of the hook and dropped to her knees, searching the floor of the cell, but it wasn’t there.
Where could it be? Who could have taken it? Who else had—
“Give it back.” Dahlia stood and walked over to the other side of the cell. Now that she had the torch, she could see exactly where the man in the cell beside her was standing. He walked up and held the amulet in the air. “Give it back to me,” she repeated.
“Funny, isn’t it? That you stole this amulet and the wizard tried to steal it from you, only I had already stolen it back…”
“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it, with permission. And I have to return it.” Somehow.
“Permission from who?”
“From a friend.” She wouldn’t have referred to Dagan as a friend under any other circumstances, but just now, it seemed like a better explanation.
“A friend who also stole it?”
“No. A friend who owns it.”
“Impossible.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I am the only owner.”
“Now I know you’re lying. That amulet belongs to my friend. It was his fath—” Dahlia stared at the man. Could he really be…? “You’re Dagan’s father. You’re Edmund. You are supposed to be dead.”
“Am I? I feel rather confined but still alive, I would say.”
“How did you—why are you in my father’s dungeon?”
“That is none your business, I’m afraid.”
Dahlia didn’t ask any other questions. She was exhausted and just wanted to rest. She placed the torch back in the hook. Then she lowered herself to the floor and sat there quietly trying to come up with a plan to escape. If what Mereck said was true, she didn’t have much time left.
~*~
Dahlia woke on the cold ground. The window at the top of the wall in her cell was letting in a small ray of sunlight. She almost wished it didn’t. Without light, she wouldn’t have been able to see her condition or her surroundings. Sometimes it was best to be oblivious.
A rattle of keys caught her attention. The door of her cell opened and a soldier came in, taking her by the arm and lifting her to her feet.
Using a piece of rope, the soldier tied her wrists together.
Dahlia thought about hitting the soldier in the stomach with her knee, but even if she could get out of the cell, there was no way to know how many other soldiers were standing guard outside the dungeon.
She quickly looked over at Edmund’s cell, catching a glimpse of him curled up asleep on the ground, just before she was escorted out.
The soldier led her to the main floor, then continued up another level to her old chambers.
But when he opened the door, it looked nothing like before.
Gone were her lilac-colored drapes and quilts.
The bed was also missing and in its place was a large wooden chair with leather straps nailed to it.
It didn’t take long for her to realize that whatever this room had become, it was no longer welcoming.
She waited for the soldier to look away then she bolted for the door, but Vallica suddenly appeared in the doorway.
She was wearing tight black leather pants, boots, and a red blouse under her black corset.
Dahlia took a few backward steps before the soldier grabbed her and drug her by the arm, over to the chair.
“No,” Vallica said. “I want her to stand.” She instructed the soldier to wrap a chain around the rope that had Dahlia’s wrists bound. The chain was threaded through a ring in the ceiling. The soldier used the other end of the chain to hoist Dahlia’s arms over her head.
The entire time, Dahlia refused to look Vallica in the eye. She knew exactly what was coming and if her step-mother could see any fear, it would only fuel her fury. Once Dahlia was securely bound, the soldier bowed to Vallica and left the room.
“How do you like my outfit, dear?” Vallica asked. “I wore it especially for you.”
Dahlia stayed silent, keeping her eyes on the wall behind her step-mother. Vallica walked around the room as she spoke, grabbing something from a table near the window.
“Do you recognize these?” Vallica teased, holding up a black leather whip. “Your father just loved to use these toys to play with his whores. And do you know how many of those whores I had to endure over the years?”
Dahlia still didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure why Vallica was prolonging the inevitable and she wasn’t about to contribute to the delay. She wanted it to be over.
“Not even a guess? Oh, well. I’ll tell you.
Sixty-seven, over the course of our marriage.
Your tramp mother was number nine. My, how I wanted so dearly to smother you in your crib.
Being forced to care for the child of your husband’s dead whore is something no wife should ever have to endure.
And just to think, for a short time, I actually grew to care for you. ”
Bullshit, Dahlia thought. You never cared for me. If you had, you would have stopped my father from using me.
“Of course, you could never do wrong in your father’s eyes.
No, his sweet Ethel always got what she wanted.
Always. Even at the expense of his wife, who he promised to cherish!
” Vallica took a deep breath to compose herself.
“I’ve changed, Ethel. I am no longer the woman who will stand aside and let her husband tear her in two.
If your father were here, he would see that.
But, alas, he is not. I guess I will just have to take my revenge out on you instead. ”
Dahlia wished she would just get to the point of all this. It was becoming a bizarre performance.
“Silas’ punishment, now yours, will be one lash of this whip for every single whore I had to witness straddling my husband.”
Then it began. The first lash sent a shock of pain through her body. The second was worse. Then the third, fourth, fifth. Dahlia clenched her jaw to prevent herself from screaming, but she couldn’t stop the tears from flying out of her eyes.
The whip hit her everywhere, on her back, arms, legs. Her clothing was already torn in the front after her visit from the wizard, but each strike just further ripped it to shreds. Soon, her dress was merely strips of fabric, hanging down her body, scarcely covering the bloody skin underneath.