Roan- The King with an ice cold heart (rough draft)

Chapter 8

     Once again I found myself locked away. How very unfortunate. 

Painstaking hours had by now passed, each minute impossibly long. In my attempt to free myself from the cuffs that restrained my wrists, the only result became the blood that dripped down to my elbows, seeping into the crevasses in my pale skin- staining it. 

It was humiliating, to say the least, being this powerless. I merely hung limply like an abandoned worm from inside my cell. The word filthy didn't even come close to describing the state of the prison. The stone walls and floor were thick; caked in mud, blood, and bodily fluids that I dare not even begin to question. 

My body ached terribly as every time I tried to settle myself in a more comfortable position, a shooting sharp pain ran up my back as I cursed under my breath. I felt embarrassingly vulnerable- being shoved on my knees and my wrists shackled to the wall leaving me utterly helpless. Here and there a few servants scurried past my cell, clearly fearful of the dark and grimy prison they entered. "I'm hurt, I need help." I called out to one as he passed by, trying to get his attention. He ignored me, not daring to do as much as even look in my direction, until I resorted to a humiliating plea. Pitiful. "Please." I begged, purposefully strangling my voice for it to sound hoarse and desperate. With lack of better judgement, the man slowly stopped in his steps, hesitantly turning back to approach my cell. 

His eyes quickly flickered over me, trying to determine if I was a threat or merely a poor soul given a harsh punishment. "How are you hurt?" The man asked skeptically, staying a healthy distance away from the iron bars of my confinement. 

I looked up at him with sad, frightful eyes, doing my best to take advantage of the fact I was a woman and therefore often underestimated. "My wrists... they'll get infected. If you could just merely tend to them I'd be undoubtedly grateful." 

Without a word he then left, the sound of his footsteps trailing off into the distance. Frustrated, I yelled and pulled against my restraints harshly with one big tug, in the process slamming my back against the stone wall. The damaged skin burned with pain, pulsating as I sat there resentfully. 

However, to both my joy and surprise the servant returned after a while, a bucket in one hand and a rag and a bar of soap in the other. He set down the bucket and fumbled while trying to unlock my cell, finally getting it open and kneeling down next to me on the floor. "If you tell anyone I'll surely get in trouble." He whispered to me. In return I shook my head adamantly. "I won't, you have my word. Thank you." I feigned my gratefulness.  

He hurriedly got to work, dunking the rag and soap into the bucket of fresh water, trying to reach my wounds without taking off my cuffs. I flinched- the contact stinging harshly but quickly fading. The man did his best to wipe off the grime and blood coating my skin, and under the circumstances he did a fine enough job. When he was about to turn and leave I stopped him. "Wait, would you mind terribly switching my restraints so that I would be able to stand? The ones bolted above them would enable me much more mobility." I asked quietly and politely, my eyes burning into his with determination and pressure. 

He rubbed the back of his head, reluctant. I kept pushing my request. "Please. It's beyond torturous being stuck like this." After a few moments of the man servant thinking, he obliged, approaching me and beginning to undo my cuffs. The sound of the metal clinking together could not have sounded sweeter. 

With one hand free and another to go, relief hit me. "Thank you so much." I said as he was about to unlock my second hand. 

"STOP!" A deep, booming voice yelled urgently in front of me beyond my cell. The kneeling servant immediately turned to stop helping me, to which I grabbed him violently with my free arm. I snaked my arm around his neck, trying to choke him while keeping him close to me. He dropped the keys to the floor of my cell, his fingers prying at mine for me to release him. 

The man who had yelled earlier ran through my open cell door to help the poor servant. I tugged the young man close to me as he kept pulling away, and then in a moment of stubbornness I bit him on his neck. Was it childish? Absolutely, yes. But at least when he was pulled away from me by the other man, I had some sort of satisfaction. I watched the imprint of my teeth fill with his blood as he ran out of my cell, terrified at how quickly things had turned south. 

"What the hell are you doing?!" The second man yelled at him as the servant fled. He turned to quickly snatch the keys off of the floor away from me and then left my cell, locking it and briefly leaving. 

With the progress of now one hand being unlocked, I tried to force open the other cuff that was enclosed over my wrist, digging my fingers into it. The stubborn material did not budge. Soon noticing that the bucket was still on the floor, I tried to hook my shoe under its handle. It took a few tries, but finally I has stretched myself out enough to barely be able to get ahold of it, dragging the brown bucket closer to me. The water was nearly gone, but the bar of soap sat at the bottom. With my free hand I fished out the soap, almost frantically rubbing it against my wrist in the hopes I'd be able to use it to slide free. After lots of tugging and pulling, I grew more impatient with each attempt. Upon lubricating my wrist once more, I was able to pull free, my body slamming into floor harshly. Before I could relish in my victory, footsteps approached me, multiple people conversing. I looked up at them outside my cell from on the floor, eyeing a handful of guards and the man who'd snatched the keys earlier. Carefully one guard opened my cell and the others flooded in. I jumped up to my feet and tried to attack one, feeling the other guards wrestle with me to get me back in my cuffs. After an exasperating few minutes I was back where I had started, kneeling on the floor with my back against the wall. One guard placed a metal muzzle to my mouth, locking it in place to ensure I wouldn't try to bite anyone else. Tears of frustration rolled down my face as I tugged against my shackles once more. They all left shortly after, and I was alone again.