Her immortal desire #seqeul to her fiery desire

Chapter 7

Fraya

I take in my surroundings, wanting to take everything in and find any possible escape routes. The cage that I have been in for the past two months is in a dungeon much like the one I had in my own castle. Thick stone walls surrounding the other cells and each cell have iron bars. I can’t help but try and look into the others to see if I have been the only one stuck in this hell hole, but it is far too dark to see anything past my own cell even after my eyes have adjusted to the dark. There are no sounds either and I can’t help but wonder if the iron surrounding me now is dimming my own supernatural hearing or sight.

I follow Anwir in silence, my throat too dry and my body in too much pain to bother asking any more questions. I’m not sure that he would even answer any of my questions and even if he does, there is no guarantee that anything he says is true. For goodness sake, the male believes that I am Eve’s daughter. No, I am better off saving my energy for someone else to answer all my questions.

We walk out of the dungeon and I can’t help but try and cover my eyes as even the bit of lights from the candles leading up the stairs try to blind me. I want to groan when I see the twisting staircase leading up, my body protesting against all the movement after so long, but I close my lips tightly and push my body to keep going. We seem to be going up and up for hours when I am sure it has only been a few minutes. There are no exits, no doorways, just stone walls on either side of me. I am just about ready to start begging for a moment to catch my breath as my legs start to shake when to stop at a door. My sigh of relief doesn’t go unnoticed as the asshole in front of me smirks before removing a set of keys from his side and unlocking the door. He holds the door open for me to step out first as if he has suddenly remembered that his parents had taught him manners some time in his very long life.

“How old are you?” The question slips past my lips before I can even think about it.

“Older than Eve.” Is all he says and my mouth hangs open in shock. No one truly knew how old my grandmother was, only that she created the first of the shifters, wish means she is older than dirt. Anwir looks to still be in his late twenties, but I don’t look much older than twenty and I am over three centuries old.

Anwir leads me down corridors, and I can’t help but be surprised that there are lights, for some reason I didn’t expect the fae to me modernized or to have electricity. Anwir is dressed in the kind of clothes that my grandparents would dress in and the few servants that scurry past us, not one looking up or making eye contact, has on dirty rags that would’ve been worn in a time when dresses with corsets and those frustrating hoops that made women look like they had huge behinds and thin waists while the poor wore flimsy linen dresses. I am still dressed in the dress I wore to my children’s birthday party. The dress is still covered in my blood and that of the Fae that I killed trying to get to my daughter.

Thinking about them, about home and the people probably looking for me makes my chest ache. I really need to find a way to get out of here and soon. That thought makes me focus harder on my surroundings as I lift my chin a bit higher and try to stand taller even if my body protests. I try to clear my mind, taking in the high sealing and every door as we keep walking. How big is this damn place?

After another twenty minutes of walking through corridors and up and down stairs, we finally stop in front of a door that Anwir opens with another key. “You will be staying in here until I can trust you not to try and kill me in my sleep.” He says. I will work hard on making him trust me then, because I would love to slit his throat while he is in a moment of peace. “I made sure there is nothing in here that you can possibly use as a weapon, so don’t bother looking for anything.” He says before stepping back and then shutting the door behind me. I hear the click of the lock and know he will probably be waiting outside of the door. Funny how he thinks I need a weapon when I grew up being one myself.

Instead of heading straight for the bathroom attached to the small room, I walk around, trying to see if there is anything to use against him, regardless of the fact that he just told me that he removed anything I could possibly use as a weapon. It never hurts to be sure.

In the center of the room is a small bed with white bedding and I hope and pray that they have at least modernized enough to have tampons instead of expecting women to wear linen strips when they are on their period. I don’t want to even think about what they did when I was on my period during the two months that I was in that cage. Did I even have my period? With that thought my bladder decides to say hello and I rush into the bathroom. I am surprised that they even have a toilet, though I don’t know why I am. Fae have to use the bathroom as well if they consume food and water. Dear lord, why am I thinking about Fae going to the damn bathroom when I should be more focused about getting to my daughter and getting the hell out of here?

I finish my business and then continue taking in the room. Aside from the bed, there is a little nightstand with a small lamp on it. I try to lift the lamp from the table but find that it is screwed to the nightstand. i***t, thinking that I won’t be able to remove the screws and use it as a weapon. I make quick work of unscrewing the lamp from the table, I move to the small closet and find it stocked with dresses and undergarments that look mighty uncomfortable. I find some stockings and then move into the bathroom and find a block of soap in the shower in the corner of the bathroom. I quickly strip the bloody dress and then turn on the shower, nearly crying when I feel the hot water spraying from the shower head. I use the soap to wash my hair as there is no such thing as shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom. I don’t want to think about how my hair is going to tangle and how it is going to end up feeling like grass without the conditioner, but at this point I just want it clean.

I spend a good amount of time in the shower, scrubbing every single part of myself at least five times. I finally feel clean when my body is red from scrubbing and my skin feels like I have scrubbed off a layer of skin along with all the filth and blood. Luckily I didn’t use all the soap and can still use it for something else. I step out of the shower and grab the towel waiting on the railing next to the sink where I had left the stocking and the screws. The towel is small but it does the job of cleaning me. As I pick up the stocking, I hear the door unlock and quickly pick up the screws and stuff it in the stocking along with the bar of soap and stuff it behind the toilet where the pipes connect to the wall. I listen to the voices outside the door to make sure no one has come in yet as I straighten and try to wrap the towel around me, but it doesn’t cover much.

A servant girl walks into the room, her head down, not daring to look me in the eyes. She looks tiny in her brown dress, her dark brown hair covering her face. She is has a dress in her hands that she places on the bed and then she turns to me, still not lifting her head. I listen as the door closes before stepping out of the bathroom. The girl lifts her eyes from the floor, curiosity getting the better of her, but when she finds me looking at her, she quickly looks down again.

“I take it you were sent to help me dress?” I ask her, praying that she says yes as I won’t be able to get the dress on without some help.

“Y-yes my queen.” It seems that she knows who I am.

“What is your name?” I ask her as I go to stand right in front of her, surprising her enough to look up at me in shock.

“I-I don’t have a n-name.” She says and I can’t help but scoff at that.

“Everyone has a name. Did your mother not give you one?” I ask her. I can see that she is Fae, the pointed ears giving her away. I take a moment to take in her face as she still keeps looking at me in shock. She has odd eyes, her pupil shaped like that of a cat’s. The gold in her eyes looks like it is moving and I can’t help but be fascinated by it. She looks far too thin, her cheekbones sticking out while her skin looks deathly pale.

“I was born a servant, and that is all I will ever be known as.” She says and I can’t help but feel sorry for her. Is this really how these servants are treated here? Given no name, nothing to call their own. I hate that I feel any sympathy at all for any of the Fae, I should be hatting them, not feeling sorry for even the lowest of them.

“You called me your queen, that means you know who I am.” I state and she nods her confirmation, her eyes returning back to the floor. “If I were to name you, would you accept that name?” I ask her, not really sure why I am even bothering, but no one should be without a name.

“We have no name because we are no one. We have nothing of our own because we don’t deserve it.” She says and I hate Anwir even more than I did.

“I asked you a question, answer it.” I say instead of allowing myself to express my anger.

“Yes, my queen. If you were to name me, I would carry that name with pride.” She says and I smile a bit. I can make allies here, the more allies I have, the greater my chances are of escaping this hell hole.

“Carlina.” I state and then lift the girls chin to look at me. “Your name is Carlina which means, she is a woman of freedom. You will tell no one of this name, but you will wear it with pride, knowing that you are free to be whom you want to be whenever you are here in this room with me. In here, you are Carlina and out there, you are my eyes and ears.” I say, hoping I didn’t just make a mistake. If she goes to Anwir and telling him that I told her to be my spy in his castle, then Evangeline will be punished for it, but I am good with reading people and I can see the fire in her eyes, her craving for freedom.

Carlina bows, tears in her eyes while she smiles and I can tell that she doesn’t smile often. “Now help me with this dress so that I can see my daughter.” I tell her while moving to pick up the frilly purple dress that looks hideous, but I can’t find it in myself to care as I know I will be seeing my daughter soon.