Chapter 3
1012 Words
The ride to the palace was a lengthy one. Stormy weather as of recent caused the dirt roads to be
uneven and bumpy after leaving my town.
Several minutes into the ride, I had noticed the mediator's eyes trained in my chest where the
square neckline of my corset pressed against my chest and lifted my breasts.
The bumps in the road certainly must have made them the most Interesting sight for the hour-
long journey and it's not like there's anything I could have covered up with.
At least the stranger who stole me from my home didn't comment on the situation.
Upon arrival, I step out of the carriage with the help of the mediator's leather gloved hands.
"The King is already holding a trial in an hour, so he won't be able to hold your court until
tomorrow," the man in all black explains as we walk past groups of guards that stand amongst
the steps and outside the palace doors.
The structure of this place is unbelievable and I can't help but pity the slaves who were forced to
build it. Though they are technically outlawed now, some still work in exchange for shelter and
food. So basically... They're slaves.
Will they make me a slave?
It's not an uncommon punishment for women under trial to work in the castle as punishment, but
I pray it won't be me.
Not a slave. Not a slave. Not a slave.
I keep my eyes straight ahead as I'm lead past a few servants bustling about here and there and
statue like guards around the corners.
This place is beautiful, but I feel it will be less so if I'm sentenced to cleaning it for a few years.
After being led down a narrow set of stairs, I come to...
Jail. Clearly, the architect tried to make it seem like a dormitory, but they failed miserably.
At least there aren't bars, but the impenetrable clear steel that our kingdom is known for lines
each cell.
The cubicles stretch down the long stone hallway, nearly 20 being prevalent with a bed and small
table in each.
Only two are filled. One girl and one boy.
"This is where you'll stay until tomorrows trial," the mediator says opening the door and pushing
me in lightly. Someone's in a hurry.
I hear a click behind me and the man is gone by the time I turn around.
What if I have to pee?
I hear tapping to my right, so I snap my head quickly, pulling something in my neck in the
process.
I groan while scowling at the boy that seems to be about my age. He's incredibly skinny and I
wonder how long he's been here. Are they starving him?
The blond boy looks around and ignores the girl watching from a few cubicles away.
"Run away with me," the boy says in a hope filled voice.
I frown and stare with confusion.
There's no way out of here.
"What are you talking about?" I ask with mildly concealed concern.
Is he mentally challenged? There are dozens of guards on the way from here to the palace front
door.
Blondie presses his hands against the clear steel and widens his eyes dramatically.
"Answer quickly! If we run, we can be together! Just say yes!"
I only become more confused and my eyes drift to the girl on the ground several feet away. She
smiles lightly at me and shakes her head. Is this her way of telling me he's mental?
I turn my eyes back to the boy and shake my head softly.
"We're stuck here. There's no running."
Blondie shakes his head dramatically and opens his mouth to argue before the mediator stomps
his way back down the stone staircase.
I watch as he unlocks the boy's cell next to me and realize he must be the one going to trial
tonight.
The skinny kid looks at me one last time with what seems to be guilt before turning into what
can only be described as a feral beast.
He practically growls as his body goes wild. His arms swing against the two guards faces and he
kicks the mediator right where the sun doesn't shine.
I gape at the show and watch with fascination as this boy with no fighting skill whatsoever,
windmills his arms while he runs up the stairs to keep everyone he may come in contact with a
safe distance away.
Unfortunately, I don't get to see if he gets to the doors, but I do get to watch the mediator scowl
while trying to stand amidst his pain.
I suppose having an asshole job has its consequences.
By the time the mediator and the guards are up again, half limp back up the stairs while I watch
with a falling face.
The boy would have gotten me out had I agreed.
I don't know what he was talking about, 'being together,' but he could have unlocked my door.
I sigh and fall back on the uncomfortable cot.
Next time, just say yes Luca.
With no sleep poking at me, I let my mind wander to Ari.
His shadowed features against the side of the building almost made him seem like a figment of
my imagination, but I know he was there.
Part of me can't help but wonder if that's the last time I'll ever see him again.
He didn't get caught. I did.
At least one of us is free.
A loud click knocks me out of my stupor and I sit up I bed quickly to see the mediator with a
hard and annoyed face.
"Come on," he beckons holding out his hand. "Your trial has been moved up."
I can feel the blood draining out of my face. No. I was supposed to have more time to prepare!
As I come to terms that blondie's escape means my fate is being decided Sooner, only one
thought circles through my mind like a recurring plead.
Not a slave. Not a slave. Not a slave.
- Writer
