story - part 25 - goad - 1074 words

The pain potion makes time pass more quickly, in a blur. At one point they bring me food, something dull and tasteless and familiar which I eat sluggishly. No one comes in to visit me, or to check on me. They have no need to.

I am beginning to grow restless, nervous, I would like to know what they are planning for me. I would like a chance to defend myself against someone sensible, who will not get so emotional and so angry. I would like for Calidris to come visit, to explain things to to the king of the young prince or to me. I would just like for something conclusive to happen.

It is a game, perhaps. A test. They are waiting for me to become so panicked and sick of this that I will agree to anything. I do not want to crumble and gave in, but at the moment I want nothing more than to wash, to escape outside into the sun and the winds, to see something beyond these four walls. It has been nearly two days.

A jingle of keys, the click of the door. It opens as I tilt my head back and around, and I am met with the sight of tight lipped Rallus, flanked by a broad shouldered young woman. He looks like he would very much like to be anywhere else, as if this is some distasteful task he is being forced to perform. Corbin has probably sent him to win more information from me, or to deliver bad news.

He is turning the keys in his hand as he steps in beside me, searching slowly and carefully through them. Taking his time about it, steeling himself in preparation - I believe he is going to release me, and I sit up straight in my chair, attentive as he finally finds the key and lifts his head to meet my questioning stare. There is something sharp and furious about his expression, as if I have wronged him deeply.

"We are going to uncuff you and move you out to the conference room. This way, you will only have to tell your story once, and everyone will hear." Not moving to actually unlock the heavy cuff about my wrist, not yet. He lets the keys dangle from one hand, a threat or a promise, a warning to be good.

"If you attempt to run off, or make a scene - "

"I will not." Coming out sharper than I intended, it is snapped and annoyed, a sign of how frayed around the edges I am. They are all treating me as if I am a rabid animal, or as if I have no common sense. I know how to take care of myself, how to plot successful strategies, when is the best time and place to act out. And I have no reason to run off - I have not done anything wrong.

His jaw sets and clenches, his eyes narrowing slightly. He does not like my tone, but it is not his duty to make me polite or calm, his job is merely to drag me out and to make me talk. All the same, he looks meaningfully back to the guard behind him before leaning down to release me.

Metal falls away from my wrist; it leaves a dark indentation, skin that is sore and sensitive. I let my fingers wander across it, not yet rising out of the chair. He is looking for an excuse to put me in my place, some vindication that I am out to get him. I do not give him anything, instead staring up at him, waiting for some kind of direction or permission.

"Not a word or a single movement unless someone asks it of you. No outbursts of emotion, or pleas. Do not even look people in the eye. Now stand up, and follow me." Keys disappearing back into his pocket. He turns on his heel, starting away toward the door, without casting a glance back over his shoulder to see if I am following.

I have to force myself up out of the chair. I still feel muddy and unfocused, somewhere between awake and asleep. For a moment, I sway in place, dark spots blossoming into my vision and stomach flipping. But it only takes me a moment to recover and trail slowly after him. The guard falls into place behind me.

"They have some of the story. Lady Calidris was reluctant to give any details, but they managed to coax most of it out of her." Sounding so bored, so indifferent, that I wonder if he was there when she was explaining. From the way he glances back over his shoulder at me, I suspect he knows. He seems to be expecting frustration or indignation from me, but I merely nod my understanding. I am grateful that I do not have to tell it again.

"It is not complete enough, however. You disappeared a decade ago, you were missing when your country needed you, and you came back without offering any explanations. They want you to defend your actions, give evidence that you are not dangerous." Looking away, again, vaguely frustrated that I did not make a scene. He is obviously not worried about how dangerous I might be.

"This is likely your only chance, so you had best make your story as convincing as possible. You deceived the King, which is an act of treason. You hid your wings, you did not commit to your duty as one of the Inspired, which is a crime worthy of high punishment. The only thing keeping you from exile at the moment is your parentage, and even that is tainted."

We drag to a halt, outside the conference room, him spinning in place to face me. There is a challenge on his face, the smallest smile curling at the corners of his mouth. It is cruel, he is looking forward to this. I do not understand why he takes his so personally, or why he is so spiteful.

"You are going to have to be very convincing. Noble pride was damaged quite a bit, and while you were not truly to blame, you have the potential to be a perfect scape goat. It should be quite interesting to watch." And then he is done, slipping away from me and in through the door. I am urged in after him.