Page 11 of Seized to Sacrifice
Nyx gave a sigh and patted Rye’s shoulder. He couldn’t help his fae friend, but at least he’d been able to stop Rye from doing this thing. The thought of her screams echoing through the keep made him want to retch.
‘Have you considered properly that this woman simply has the bad fortune of having Elle’s face? What if she's not Elle? What if she's just some poor, hapless human female that we're going to torment for some fleeting sense of revenge?
‘You still don't think it's her?’
Nyx shrugged. ‘In truth I don't know what to think, but until I'm sure I'm not going to be doing anything I can't undo.’
* * *
She
She sat in the corner,her head resting against the stone, staring despondently at the tray that had been left on the floor of her cell.
She didn't know what was in the bowl, but it wasn't bread, which made a change. Her stomach revolted at the meaty smell of it though, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
It was dark down here all the time, but she knew it was light outside because of the grate. She closed her eyes, feeling the walls closing in on her in the cold, wet gloom. She felt like she hadn't been warm in days, but she had no real sense of time, didn’t know how long she'd been down here.
Here, the hours were marked only by the tiny patch of light that moved with the sun, and by the servant who came down to leave food or to take it away again. He didn’t speak to her.
The men who were keeping her here came mostly just to stare menacingly. One of them with short, dark hair would sneer at her, remind her how much they hated her. But he didn’t say much more than that.
She still had no idea why.
She heard the door at the end of the hall. He was early to take the tray, she thought at first, but then heard multiple footsteps scuffing over the stones in the corridor towards her.
Gathering the blanket around her, she huddled into a ball in the rear of the cell.
No one had yet tried to harm her, not since the night they’d brought her here, but that meant nothing. She had no allies in this place.
Four people, servants of the keep it looked like from their clothes, came to stand in front of the cell, whispering amongst themselves and peering in at her.
Two men. Two women.
One of the men she recognized from the cart. She didn't know his name, but she didn't like the way his eyes moved over her, both then and now. The other slave, the one who’d given her the shoes, wasn't there. It was another man she didn't recognize.
They gawked.
‘What do you think she did?’ the women with brown hair asked loudly, speaking about her as if she wasn’t there.
‘Gods only know. She's been down here for days though. Fen’s been bringing her trays. He’s been told not to talk to her,’ said the man she didn’t know.
‘I heard they come down here at all hours,’ the other woman, a blonde, whispered.
‘What for?’
Brown hair gave her blonde friend a teasing look. ‘Rye hasn’t wanted you in his bed of late, Leia. Perhaps their new slave girl has taken your place in it.’
The blonde, Leia, sniffed. ‘I doubt it. Look at her. She’s filthy and she stinks.’ But her eyes narrowed in malice at Elle as she stared at her.
‘Well, she has been down here for some days,’ the man she didn’t know said.
‘Raise the torch. I want to look at her properly,’ said the slave from the cart.
She huddled closer into a ball as light shone in her eyes and the rats who were her constant companions, scattered.
Leia visibly shuddered, and her friend tittered at her.
‘Better hope you are still Rye’s favorite, or you know who’ll get told to clear the cellar storeroom. You might have to get used to the rats … and that nest of spiders that lives in there.’
