𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 (ACOTAR FANFIC)

Fifty-Nine

Two shadows had come to my room.

    I didn't know how long I'd been in my cell. Time had blurred in my mind and after a while, it stopped. My only solace was watching the candlelights in the hallways dance across the floor of my cell through the cracks of the door.

    They came when I was asleep. Slipping through cracks in the wall like Rhysand except while the High Lord of the Night radiated such overwhelming power, the shadows felt like mist blowing from the ocean at night.

    They never became fully corporeal like the High Lord. Their bodies were blurred like they couldn't decide which form to take.

    I sat up abruptly as they grabbed each of my arms. I didn't bother to fight them off, I had a sneaking suspicion they'd just turn to shadows again if I did. They pulled me to my feet and began walking to the closed cell door.

    "Can't we just take the normal way out, pretty please?" I laughed nervously. The wraiths gave no reaction, they just continued walking to the door that was less than a foot away.

    I felt my body blur like I was vanishing. I felt it as the shadows encased me and I was no longer a solid being.

    The wraiths took me through the slits in the door and if I could breathe normally, I would have gasped. We came out, and yet we never became fully solid again as we glided through the hallways. The path they took was unfamiliar; not leading to the pits, arena, or throne room.

    They stopped for a moment—as if in warning as we came to a door. We became smoke again, slipping through the cracks of the world until we were in a room.

    I became myself again, holding up my hands and seeing that I was no longer a shadow. I raised my head, taking in the room. It was dimly lit by an array of half-melted candles on the walls. The jagged stone poked out of the walls dangerously, and yet somehow it looked oddly peaceful.

There was a large bathtub in the middle of the room—already filled to the brim with steaming water. Stacked on the walls were buckets of a black substance and brushes. I turned around facing the door, seeing fabric hanging there—no not fabric, just a very, very scandalous dress.

    I liked it.

    I was sick and tired of all the puffy fru-fru dresses of the Mortal Lands and Spring Court. Even the dress I wore at Solstice was practically unacceptable. The glittery dress on the wall was more my forte.

    I'd been raised under the notion that a body was just a body, we all had them and yet it was unacceptable to show them—for women anyway. Men could run out of the house naked and go about their day being praised, and yet when a woman did the same she was called a whore. In my opinion; the rules can go fuck themselves.

    The shadows spared no more time and undressed me—much to my dismay—before they shoved me into the bath and began scrubbing my skin raw to get all the dirt and grime out. It was slightly mortifying as I watched the bathwater turn a muddy brown color. I couldn't help but wonder if it was dirt or dried blood.

    When they were satisfied one pulled me from the bath while the other retreated to the wall to grab the buckets of the black liquid and paintbrushes. And then they began to...paint me?

    Everywhere.

    Literally everywhere.

    Within minutes my body was covered with swirls and patterns of black paint that almost blended with my tattoo. As I looked closer I saw that the paint was even more void than the permanent art on my arm. My tattoo was a deep blue while the paint was the color of the blackest nights.