False freedom.

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It was hours before someone came to untie me.

Blake didn't bother returning. Instead, it was Gwen that untied my ankles and unhooked my hands, and all but carried me to the bathroom. My head ached at the sight of light, but I didn't do anything but squint. I didn't have the strength to groan, not to mention the tape still pressed over my lips. Gwen began to get undressed, and I averted my gaze, and looked down at my legs. In the light, I could see my thighs, stained with blood.

I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat and looked away.

Undressed, Gwen turned on the shower and gently tugged me under the water. She gently pried apart my legs, and I instinctively flinched away. She gave me what could be an apologetic smile, but didn't say anything. She pulled the bar of soap down from above me, and began to clean my skin, scrubbing away the blood and grime. I tried to ignore the lump in my throat, and shut my eyes to stop myself remembering the man who had cleaned me last.

She scrubbed me until I was squeaky clean, then rinsed off the soap, and reached up to turn off the water. Still in the steam of the shower, she lifted her hand and gently pried the tape off my lips. once my mouth was free, she pulled the wad of material out from between my teeth. I gasped out a breath.

I hadn't realised how hard it was to breathe until the gag was gone, and I swallowed in as much of the clear air I could, savouring the feeling of my lips' ability to move freely. My breathing was still laboured and shallow, but that had little to do with the gag and more to do with the tears still trickling down my face, involuntary sobs escaping my now-free mouth.

Gwen paid no attention to my cries, and gently pulled me up onto my feet. My legs shook, pain emanating from my core, and I wondered how long it would take for that pain to go away, or if it would ever.

I bit my lip as Gwen led me out of the shower, and stopped, pulling a towel off the rack, and gently drying my wet skin. The towel was still damp from when it had been used earlier, but it did the trick, and soon enough, my skin was dry, and Gwen hung the towel back up.

She bit her lip as she dried herself and began to get dressed. "Blake didn't give me anything for you to wear. I'm sorry. He said he wanted you bare when he returned."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. "It's okay." I forced out, my voice hoarse. Then, after a few moments, I added, "You don't need to be sorry. It's not your fault."

She gave me a sad look. "But it is. It's all my fault. It's my fault he ever even took you. I never wanted this to happen."

I frowned, shaking my head. "Guinevere, please don't blame yourself. It—"

"Stop!" She muttered, cutting me off. She shook her head. "Please, just stop. You don't know. How can you know?"

I stayed silent, watching as she took a shaky breath, and blinked back tears. After a long moment, I spoke. "Tell me, then."

She bit her lip and looked at my face, shaking her head. I gave her a pleading look.

"Gwen, tell me. Please. Tell me why you lied to me. Tell me about your son. Please. I can't help you if I don't know the truth."

She looked at me earnestly, tears in her eyes. For a moment, I thought she was going to tell me the truth, break away from her fear and tell me what was going on. But then she shook her head and looked away.

"No. I'm sorry. You can't know."

With that, she turned to the door. I considered arguing, trying to convince her, but from one look at her face, I knew it would be no use. She wasn't going to tell me. Not yet. Pursing my lips, I leant against her, and let her lead me back to my room.

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