Victory or Sovngarde

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ylva

"Madame Ambassador, it's been nearly a month, and she hasn't broken yet. Do you think—"

"She will break. They all break in the end."

With an effort, I cast my weary gaze towards the arguing elves. Elenwen and her chief torturer were standing just outside my cell, speaking in hushed but audible tones. Either they had not counted on me regaining consciousness so soon or they no longer cared what I overheard. It wasn't like I was escaping anytime soon. Not with my legs broken at the shins.

"We've never interrogated someone like this, Madame."

"And we wouldn't have had to if you idiots would have done your job and killed her when you killed her family!" Her eyes were blazing, and she was practically foaming at the mouth. Every day I resisted was another day she lost, and Elenwen did not like losing.

"I was not there—"

"But you're one of my lackeys, and my lackeys failed me fifteen years ago, as you're failing me now!" Her palm cracked across his cheek, but he neither flinched nor fought back. "Find a way to break her, or you'll never see the Summerset Isles again!"

The torturer scurried off, and Elenwen snapped her attention to me. It was too late to pretend I heard nothing, to pretend I was still unconscious, so I instead held her gaze, not caring that one eye was swollen shut and the other was leaking tears. Not caring if my lip was split and still bleeding. Not caring if I was at my weakest.

Think of Faerie. Think of Fairster. Think of your parents. Do not let her win.

Growling, Elenwen snatched a metal rod as thick as my thumb, and she stalked into my cell. "You... you arrogant, ill-bred, Nord bitch!" She swung the rod into my side, and I cried out as my breath left me all at once. I balled my hands into tight fists and bit the inside of my cheek to keep anymore cries from escaping. I silently begged the gods for strength, knowing that I would need it to ride out Elenwen's tantrum.

When she had finished taking her anger out on me, when the bloodied rod slipped from her fingers, she reached up and grabbed my face. She yanked my head up so I was looking her in the eye, and we were so close, flecks of spit flew from her mouth to my cheeks.

"The only way you're leaving this Embassy is through that body dump." She pointed over her shoulder, to the trapdoor Etienne, Malborn, and I had used all those years ago to escape. "Why do you insist on fighting me?! It's futile!"

"You... you killed my parents." I spat bloody saliva from my mouth, unable to keep from grinning as it hit her in the face. "You took... everything from me that night. Now... now I'm going to watch... as you lose everything you've worked... worked for. Watch as your own little... empire crumbles." My grin widened. "And I'm going to be the one to take it from you."

"I will break you. One way or another, you will concede. You will lose." She released my face, then, just before turning and leaving my cell, kicked me in the leg. I screamed as the bone that had been healing was snapped again. "Your arrogance can only get you so far." Then, with a final growl, she slammed the cell's door shut and stormed back upstairs.

For a rare moment, I was alone.

Groaning, face tightening, I gripped the chains above my head and pulled myself up a little, holding my weight off my legs for just a moment. I couldn't keep myself suspended like this for long, but it at least gave my broken bones a chance for rest.

I glanced down at my filthy body, at the ragged clothes that had been reduced to shreds, and the exposed, bloody wounds. I could hardly believe that I was looking down at my own body; this could not be real.