Chereads / Silent Thrones / Chapter 4 - Chapter Three

Chapter 4 - Chapter Three

The next morning, the sound of footsteps woke the female. A different, yet familliar, scent wafted into her cell, alongside that of her breakfast. Shifting her slowly-clearing eyes toward the iron door, and she watched both her guard and the male from the hall walk in.

The male hung back while her guard approached, her breakfast in hand.

Pushing herself up, she sat almost obediently and waited for her muzzle to be removed.

As soon as it hit the floor, she dove for her food.

"Is she aware of the iron in it?" the male questioned.

Her guard nodded. "Little bugger snarled at me for it. Knocked the iron right off the meat the first day, the sassy prick."

She grinned up at him and choked down said meat.

"Interesting," he said, studying her with cautious eyes.

She grinned at him.

"Is she any less violent?" the male asked.

"We'll see when we take the chains off," the guard replied, "She lunged at me yesterday."

"Did she now?" the male raised a brow.

Her grin widened.

"Well, she needs bathed. If you trust her enough without the chains, you can try without them. If not, then I suppose you can leave the chains on," the male went on.

Her eyes narrowed, her lips twitching back in a snarl.

"What, you though we'd just leave you smelling this bad?" the male snorted, "You may be a prisoner, but you're not a rat."

A low growl rumbled from her lips, and she let her claws scrape on the stone.

"Forgive me, but I feel as if I'm being threatened by a child," he said.

Her growl grew louder. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh, just finish eating," he said, atriding to the door, "And make sure she gets that bath."

The door opened for him and closed behind him, leaving her and her guard alone.

She growled at him.

"You're getting a bath whether you like it or not," he said.

"I am no dog," she growled back.

"Sure, but you smell absolutely horrendous," he said.

"I will not be bathed by one of you," she snarled.

He rolled his eyes. "Of curse not. We're handing you over to a healer."

She looked no more convinced.

He nudged her with a boot. "Just finish eating."

Begrudgingly, she did. When she finished the plate, he handed her a water glass. After draining that, he again put her muzzle back on, unchained her, and shackled her wrists and ankles. Lifting her up, he half dragged her from the room.

They didn't go far, just to the next cell over, but stretching her legs felt good. Having the chains taken off so that they could properly bathe her felt good.

Being handed over to the two healers that stripped her from her tattered clothes and shoved her into the scalding tub, however, did not.

Thankfully, they'd refrained from putting salt in the water. A small reprive, if anything.

Although, with her skin being scrubbed raw, it almost didn't matter.

She made her displeasure known through her low growling sprinkled through the entire bath. The healers ignored her, and ignored her occasional pained yelps when they washed out a wound.

Truthfully, she hadn't realized how cut up and battered she'd gotten during her time on the streets.

The pain, although, brought a little clarity to her mind.

After what felt like hours, she was dragged out of the bath and to a table, where she was bandaged and shoved into a new set of clean, white clothes. Her guard then returned, a few chains and a muzzle in hand.

"Put that muzzle back on me, I dare you," she snarled.

"Attack me and I'll have them file your claws. Maybe your horns, too," he replied.

She growled. He snarled back. Backing down, she let him put the muzzle over her mouth. He then locked a collar around her neck, shakles on her wrists and ankles, and led her back to her cell.

He then deposited her in her cell, sat in the opposite corner, and watched her.

"You're not going to chain me to the wall this time?" she asked, shifting her gaze to the chains on the wall.

"I'm seeing how long it takes for you to decide to attack me," he replied.

She snorted. "I'm not quite that stupid."

"Then I take it you're not quite as delirious as you were yesterday," he said.

She nodded once, all the answer she'd offer him.

"Good. I'll let the king know," he replied, settling into his corner.

He made no move to do so.

She raised a brow.

Ignoring her unspoken question, he remained silent. He only broke this silence when he could no longer stand her stare.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"Are you not going to speak to your king?" she inquired.

"I'll speak to the king when I'm good and ready too," he replied.

She grinned. "Want some more time alone with me, do you?"

"Don't get cocky, girl," he warned.

Her grin just widened.

"If you must know," the guard said, "I find the king insufferable and not a male I'd like to deal with."

A snicker could be heard outside. The female lifted a brow.

The openness of the guard's words, the lack of fear in them...

"I take it you know the male personally?" she inquired.

He nodded, frowning. "More personally than I'd like to."

She grinned. "Do I detect a scandalous history?"

His annoyed eyes shifted to hers. "If you'll die without the information, he's my twin brother."

She blinked. Then snorted. Then howled with laughter.

"And all you could manage was becoming a guard?"

The man's lip twitched back from his teeth. She continued to howl with laughter.

"Well, when the alternative is death, you take what you can get," he said.

She cut off.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, lifting a brow.

"Our system does not like more than one heir," he replied.

"Then why did your parents have more than one?" she questioned.

"You can't exactly pick and choose with twins," he replied.

She blinked.

"So, because my older brother is just a few hours ahead of me, I was essentially sentenced to death. I'm lucky that my brother offered me a job rather than the butchering block," he said.

"Well," she said, "That's not fun."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "I tell you that I'm on the edge of death, and that's all you can say."

She grinned, her eyes flashing. "I find that making light of situations makes them just a little less heavy."

He laughed- just once, but it was a genuine laugh.

"I suppose you're right," he said, "Let's hope my brother decides not to kill you, ey?"

"That," she said, "I can agree with."

His lips quirked up into a smile, and he offered her a hand. "Truce?"

Accepting the offer with a handshake, she agreed. "Truce."