𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 (ACOTAR FANFIC)

Fifty-Eight

I refused to look at my left arm as I scrubbed the floors of the hallway.

Refused to look at the ink that marred my skin and the eye in the middle of my palm that I couldn't help but wonder if Rhysand could see me from. If he was I hoped he got the message as I scrubbed the floor with it.

But I caved in—looking at the ink in the light I realized it wasn't just black. It was a blue so dark it looked black.

I dunked the brush I'd been given into the newly clean water I'd been scrubbing these floors with. It was nearly impossible to clean with all the dirt and grime that coated the brush every time I put it in the water.

When the guards had brought me to the white hallway they'd only said, "Have it done by supper or we'll roast you over a fire." blah. blah. blah. Just the usual. The guards that escorted me down into the pits had threatened the same and yet here I was.

A woman had visited me during my time here, her hair was a brown deep enough to look almost red. The water I had been using had dirtied over time, the woman had done me a kindness in turning it fresh again. She had revealed she was Lucien's mother, that she was doing it only because I had saved her son from Rhysand. Though she'd threatened to kill me straight after, she was a confusing woman. I wondered if I'd ever cross paths with her again.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The guards had returned the next day with eerie smiles on their faces—showing off their yellow teeth. They'd yanked me from my cell and shoved me into a large, dark bedroom. They pointed to the soot-stained fireplace, "servant spilled lentils int eh ashes," one of the guards tossed me a wooden bucket as the other spoke, "clean it up before the occupant returns, or he'll peel your skin off in strips."

"How creative," I mocked. They could at least come up with something original, I mean who had that kind of time these days? Do they know how long it takes to do that? How much effort do you have to put in? It takes hours.

They left me alone after that.

This was ridiculous. No one accidentally spills lentils in the trash. If the person who lived here was actually as dangerous as they said, why would someone even risk bringing lentils in here?

I glanced around the bedroom, there were no windows or exits save for the one i'd just entered through. The bed was enormous, made neatly with its sheets of black silk. The room was practically barren besides a few pieces of furniture. There was nothing defining about the room. Nothing.

I knelt at the fireplace. Looking at the multitude of lentils lost in the ashes. I internally groaned, I hated this.

I had keen senses, I could do it. It couldn't be that hard.

I could do it.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I couldn't do it.

I had gone through the pile of ashes sixteen times. Sixteen times. And yet there were always more. I was so frustrated I thought I might burst from my skin. If the lentils were alive I would have killed them, I hated lentils. I'd never be able to look at them again without a burst of anger bubbling up from inside me.

That's how frustrated I was.

I wished I could scream as I looked at my soot-stained hands. I went to search again for more lentils but the lock on the door clicked.

I whipped my head around, seeing the door begin to open, I swiftly got to my feet, grabbing the fire poker and getting into a stance like I was holding a sword.