Prisoner To the King

Why Must It Be Her?

A/N: I have also found out the device used against Mare is actually a sounder, not a clicker. Much love ~

I do not own the Red Queen series

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The puckered skin is not a blister.

It is a new design.

On each burnt wrist, right in the middle, is a small crown. It is a dark red-black, the skin around it blistered.
I wince and turn the facet on in the sink, slowly sticking my throbbing wrist in it. I hiss as the cold water hits the skin, but eventually it soothes the burn.

I find an old, dusty package of bandages in the far back of the cabinet, allowing me to at least cover up the wound.

I stand there shakily, pondering what will happen next. Hopefully, Wren will come in and heal the wound. I don't want this to get infected, especially with my immune system so messed up.

Back in the Stilts, if you got an infection the best you could hope for was the loss of that body part. I've seen it happen to many people, mostly the kids. The younger ones would be playing in the creek and get a little too rough, cutting themselves on a sharp rock or hook. From there, it got infected from the contaminated water, or just the dirty conditions. Because many were so poor, they couldn't afford the limb to be amputated. They either tried themselves or it spread to the entire body, killing the child.

I close my eyes at the sad memory, wondering what my home is like now. Are the people being attacked? Is my house destroyed? What would it be like if I was still Mare Barrow from the stilts instead of the little Lightning Girl?

'Free' I think bitterly before scolding myself. No, I'd still be in a cage, just a slightly bigger one. Or I would be in the Choke, fighting for a lost cause. I would be relatively safe, but others would not. Newbloods and millions of other innocents would've died if I hadn't found my electricity.

'But Shade would still be alive' a small voice whispers. I push it down deep into my mind until it dissolves into a memory of pain. My lungs feel tight and somehow I know it's not just from the thought of Shade, but the added silent stone. I need to get out.

Walking shakily to the bed, I use the wall as support. Eventually I make it, sinking down onto the silky covers. I disgust myself as I seek comfort in their soft touch. How many reds slaved over making this?

I shiver at the thought, pushing away all the sheets until I am left with a bare mattress. The burns on my wrist hurt as I move everything, but I ignore it and continue my task. Even stripped, the bed is soft and comfortable.

So, I sleep on the floor. I don't deserve the comfort of the bed. Too many people like me, like Gisa, have been made to work for the Silvers, it disgusts me that I have indulged in it.
Suddenly, my stomach cramps and I cover my mouth, waiting for the acidic liquid to fill it. After a few seconds nothing comes up and I sigh in relief. It is probably hunger, considering I just threw up everything.

I reach over to get the now cold dish. Two pieces of soggy toast, a bowl of liquidy eggs, and three pieces of fat soaked bacon. A glass of what I think is orange juice is on the side. My mouth waters and I eat quickly. I know I should slow down because I will get sick, but this is the first meal I've had in two days. Going to grab the napkin, I spot the mess of oatmeal I made on the floor.

I feel no shame at the spilled bowl because I know a silver will have to clean it up. Maven doesn't trust me with regular red servants, thinking I will convince them to give a message to the guard.

I wipe my mouth with the napkin and the smallest piece of paper flutters out. I grab it quickly, hope rising in my chest. It is folded, and once I open it fully it is three times its original size.