《The Fight We Chose》Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

Capital of the Iberian Empire

Fool!

Traitor!

Beast!

This is all your fault!

I’ll kill him, I swear it!

Just die.

Someone... help...

Her crimson eyes shot open in the darkness, darting around every which way like an animal desperately trying to see its predator before it was too late.

Nothing.

She shut her eyes again, tightly, covering them with one hand as she rolled to her side and took a tired breath, unable to relax on the rigid cot she called a bed. The darkness remained around her, slightly alleviated by the orange glow of a torch’s flame from beyond the iron bars of her cell. It was still cold. Still isolated. Still her current home.

But she realized then that the dungeon was missing its usual noise.

No quiet sobbing, or shaky breathing. No cries for mother and father. No hopeless prayers in indecipherable tongues. Only the occasional distant footsteps of guards and the burning torches in the halls.

It made the darkness of her cell slightly more bearable. The cold stones and iron always brought the usual discomfort, alongside the hard wooden cot she rested on, but small mercies had to be appreciated.

So, she shifted slightly, appreciating the silence.

Briefly, she turned to the cell across from her.

Empty.

Her eyes narrowed in the darkness, trying not to think of its inhabitants. Sometimes, if they were really desperate, they would try to start a conversation with anyone in the surrounding cells. A fruitless effort as well, the patrolling guards never allowed slaves like the ones kept there to interact in any meaningful way. They were now less than human, after all, so why let them think they could ever be worth anything more?

But tonight, they were all silent.

She frowned internally, a headache flaring.

Had she missed something?

One of the guards walked quietly past her cell, his footsteps echoing down the prison’s stone corridors, the smell of his torch slowly dissipating with the light’s glow as he walked on. Eventually, the man was out of what she knew was the limit of human earshot.

Her snow-white rabbit ears suddenly twitched ever so slightly, and she sat up, eyeing the darkest corner of her cell.

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She grimaced but knew it would be better to ask now than not.

Really, what else could she do?

Her voice a silent whisper, she spoke.

"Seljuk."

The confident, slimy voice came from under her bed this time despite the yellow eyes staring back at her from the dark corner.

"Yes, your highness?"

She tried ignoring the almost sarcastic tone with which he said “highness”. Internally she shuddered at the memories, but she was used to dealing with the so-called spymaster of the Iberian Empire and his games.

"Has something happened?" She asked simply.

The spymaster chuckled dryly, voice hoarse, as he spoke.

"Plenty. Emperor Adrian’s expedition into the new world began today. The prince and others in the palace are in a celebratory mood. Those that know, at least.”

Understanding washed over her then, and her ears slowly dropped back down.

"Ah, so the bastard decided to celebrate with his newer concubines?" She croaked out; certain she was being reserved for when he became bored of his many other toys. Her hand subconsciously touched her neck.

Painful bruises remained.

"So it seems. Lucius will probably call for you soon if not come down here himself. His majesty gets desperate if his needs aren’t-"

"I know, I know… just let me know if you hear anything about this invasion.”

“Expedition-”

“Leave." she quietly ordered.

"Of course, your highness." the spymaster said, sarcasm still lining the last word, and slowly she felt his presence leave her cell.

She heard no footsteps.

Not a door opening or closing.

Nothing.

She decided to go back to sleep rather than dwell on it. Knowing more "spoils" would likely arrive through that door sooner if not later, joining her in the desperate bid to survive under their masters. It would only cause more problems for her if one of the new girls got too popular with a certain prince… not that there was much about that she could do. She then briefly considered how many of the girls taken up would come back down.

Her grimace deepened, and her right hand moved up to rub the throbbing vein on her forehead, her jaw clenching tightly as memories of bygone days shot back at her.

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As though she could still feel the warm sun rays despite the cold darkness of her prison. The blades of grass occasionally poked into her sandals, tickling her feet, the green pastures that seemed to spread forever, the tall trees hiding singing sparrows, all under a cloudless blue sky. Such long-forgotten harmony for her.

Well... not entirely harmonious... or forgotten.

It was her mother’s objections that really came to memory then.

“What is the meaning of this?” her mother’s voice, stern and frustrated, echoed as she stood over her and her older brother. They’d both stood at rigid attention, their clothes dirtied immediately.

Her brother was faster than her, pointing to her and yelling “She tripped me and made me fall!”

“I did not! You tripped me first!” she'd shouted back as loud as she could, her small body matched by her smaller voice as she teared up.

Their mother was unamused, saying “Diplomacy, my children. Please. What happened?”

Now she was quicker.

Wiping her frustrated tears, she quickly said “He said he was faster than me! So we started- ow-ow-ow!”

Her brother responded by tugging at her ear, saying “Liar! You said I was slow!”

“My ear!”

A swift whack to the forehead from her mother’s right palm was all that was needed for her brother to release her. She rubbed her ear, attempting to appear more innocent than she may have been.

“Mother!”

“Quiet, please. Thule...”

She looked up, her crimson eyes meeting her mother’s own.

“Is he telling the truth?”

Now she shifted uncomfortably, consciously rubbing her hurt ear a little more in an attempt at gaining sympathy.

“Thule.”

Her name had been uttered in a tone that heavily implied warning, and lying was never an option.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way...”

“Liar.”

“Bren... please.”

Her brother pouted but didn’t argue.

Thule nervously stared at the ground, not saying another word.

“Now, both of you, the importance in diplomacy is that you both come to an understanding to avoid violence like this.”

“But mother-”

“No talkback! You apologize to your brother, and he will apologize to you.”

She had sighed then, not entirely content with the resolution, but nevertheless nodded and turned to her older brother, the youth’s shorter but equally white hair blowing in the breeze as she spoke.

“I’m sorry I tripped and said you were slow.” she sighed.

The teenager calmly muttered, “I’m sorry I pushed you...”

Their mother smiled and said “Good. Now, don’t bother anyone with petty problems like these, alright? There are more important matters, and future rulers like yourselves must be ready and responsible. Understood?”

“Yes, mother.” they had both said.

Thule let out a breath she’d been holding in before, a sharp pain on her side awoke her, bringing her back to the terrible present she found herself in. As she briefly passed a hand over her bruised neck, her tired mind longed for the unreachable.

Mother... father...

The simple act of thinking of them caused her throat to tighten in anguish and she forced herself to not make any noise. Images of broken bodies, shattered blades, fire, smoke, blood, and tears filled her mind then. Screams followed, then jeers, then curses, then the physical pain, and then...

And then the now.

Still...

With no real hope of achieving her vengeance, what was the point in remembering those she had ultimately betrayed? Besmirching the name of those who loved her gave her no right to think she could ever do right by them even in death. So, she shut her eyes tightly and tried to sleep again, painful memories be damned. She was too tired, closing her eyes as she tried to ignore her body and mind’s protests, attempting to fall back into a blissful sleep that would take her back to then.

But she couldn’t.

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