It was impossible for Effie to tell if she had been locked up in her cell for hours or days. There was no sunlight, no lamplight, no way to track the passage of time. But during all that time, Effie had been mulling over the idea of escape. How could she possibly get out of this godforsaken place, she had wondered? The stone walls were as thick as her forearm was long. The iron doors were strong and chained shut with large locks. Each floor had guards posted everywhere. In the end, she began to wonder if escape was even conceivable. Even if she did manage to slip out of her cell and make it past every one of those guards, there was the problem with the labyrinth. There was no way she'd be able to find her way through that seemingly never-ending maze before getting caught. Even the most seasoned of prisoners had told stories of this place, and how utterly impossible it was to escape.
Inside her cell it was too dark to see anything. But she would occasionally hear disconcerting noises coming from the other prisoners who shared the bottom level with her; iron bars being violently rattled, desperate voices calling out to the guards with no reply, incessant humming of the same creepy tune echoing off the empty walls like a ghost, and the moanings and babblings of madness.
At some point, a guard had arrived to slide a bowl of gruel through her door which Effie thought smelled like dishwater. But she was so hungry at that point she would have readily eaten up every last drop if she hadn't been on a hunger strike. She had refused to eat anything the prison tried to feed her. She'd rather starve to death than take anything from them. So when the bowl was slid her way, she immediately knocked it over, spilling its contents all over the stone floor of her prison cell. To which the guard only replied with a callous shrug of his shoulders. Then he'd taken the empty bowl and left.
Effie almost immediately regretted that decision as she watched the off-white potage leak between the cracks in the stone until it was nothing more than a spot on the floor. Even her stomach seemed to growl in protest. But no, she would not give in to it.
Her biggest fear now was wondering when the warden would finally come back for her to enact his revenge. What would he do to her? Hurt her? Torture her? Kill her? It was hard to say. All she knew was that it would be a nightmare. So when the figure of a man did eventual appear on the outside of her iron door, Effie's heart began to race. He was finally here for her, she thought. He was going to drag her out of her cell to do horrible things to her. She might... she might even die.
But the voice that came from the silhouette outside her door was not the dark, gravely voice of the warden. It sounded like someone else entirely. Someone she'd heard before.
"Euphemia Barlow?" He addressed her. "That's your name, isn't it?"
Prince Reign?
The first time she'd heard Reign speak, his voice was dangerous and cold. But now, it was completely different; it was almost soft and gentle, matching the gentle eyes she'd seen in the Moonshadow forest on the first day she'd ever laid eyes on him.
But Effie was too on edge to remember that now.
"What do you want?" She spat like a feral cat who was cornered.
Slowly, he lifted a dim lantern which he held in his hand, until his gentle features were illuminated by the light. He wasn't dressed in armor this time, instead he was wearing a velvety, red tunic tied around his waist with a belt. His long white hair spilled over his shoulder in a braid that reached his waist. A glittering, red crystal earring hung from his left ear. His golden eyes were soft, almost sad, as he eyed Effie through the darkness. Then, when he got his first glimpses of the markings all over her body, and of the fresh bruise on her face dealt by the warden's hand, Reign's eyes darkened.
"They touched you. Who? Who dared?!"
"Don't pretend to care now," Effie bit, daring to challenge a royal prince. "You're the one who sent us down here in the first place, weren't you? And then you abandoned us down here, and let the guards do whatever they wanted with us. So don't pretend like you care about what happens to us now."
"I didn't have much of a choice," Reign's voice began taking on some of its familiar coldness, reminding her of the way he sounded on the day of her execution.
Effie already thought she knew why he had no choice. Judging by the way the guards had spoken about him, he must not have had very much authority. But even though she was already aware, Effie was just so angry, so hurt, so traumatized, that she couldn't stop herself from taking it all out on him in that moment. "What do you mean you didn't have a choice!? Aren't you a prince? Why didn't you just tell the soldiers to let us go so we could go on with our lives?"
"You have no idea how badly I wished I could," he replied bitterly. "But just because I'm a prince, that doesn't give me the same authority that my father has, or even my brother Torin. Torin is the heir to the throne. Meanwhile, I'm not even pure-blooded royalty. I'm a mutt, mixed with a foreigner's blood, and everyone in the king's court is painfully aware of that fact. Even the servants barely respect me, but they must tolerate me because of who my father is. Though it's not like I've done much to earn their respect over the years. I wouldn't be surprised if you've even heard a few of soldiers speaking openly and brazenly about me by now."
It was true, Effie certainly had.
"If I had simply ordered you to be set free," Reign went on, "the soldiers would have never gone for it. It's likely they would have still done what I ordered, albeit with much begrudging. And after I had left, they would have sent word to my father immediately. And of course, father would have ordered your immediate execution anyway. The only way I could appease the men without having you killed outright was to have you locked up here until my father comes back."
"Once he comes back, won't the king have us killed anyway?" Effie said with less bite in her tone, her anger now disarmed.
"I will do everything that I can to prevent that from happening."
And though those words in themselves weren't particularly comforting, Effie was moved by the determination in his voice. And somehow, she got the feeling that he would do exactly what he said.
"Why do you even care about us?" Effie couldn't help asking next.
Reign's lips tugged into an strange, slight smile, and Effie could tell he wasn't used to making that expression. "Because you saved my life, of course."
"Why do you keep saying that? If it wasn't for me, there wouldn't have been a head injury to heal in the first place."
Reign shook his head. "That's not the part I'm referring to. When I'd gone to the pond in the forest that day, I'd gone there to- you know what, that part's not important right now. What matters is that I'm fully indebted to you, so right now it is my turn to save your life."
"Oh..."
Shock ran through Effie's spine like a bolt of electricity. A handsome prince indebted to someone like her, a mere commoner girl? It hardly seemed possible. Moreover, exactly what had he gone to the pool to do that day? If she hadn't simply saved his life by healing his head, then what else had she done that she was not aware of? Effie had so many questions. There was so much more to this story than she had ever realized, and it was beginning to make her head spin.
But despite all the questions burning through her brain, there was one question she wanted to know the answer to more than anything else.
"Do you know if my Aunt Anise is alright?" She asked, biting her lip nervously. She wasn't sure if she was prepared for bad news.
"Anise Barlow? Now that you mention it, she doesn't appear to be with you anymore, does she?"
"She was practically ripped away from me. Her health was failing so they said they were taking her to the infirmary to tend to her. But I haven't heard anything since. I haven't seen her. I don't know if she's okay. I don't... I don't even know if she's still alive..." Effie swallowed a sob. She never intended to show an ounce of weakness to this prince, so she reprimanded herself for doing it now.
The expression on Reign's face was grave, causing Effie's stomach to squirm with dread. He was probably thinking the same thing she was. Down here in this hellish place, Anise's chances of survival weren't particularly high.
"I'll be sure to check on her for you as soon as possible," he said. "And in the meantime, is there anything else you need me to do for you?"
Since he was asking.... "My necklace," she blurted. "A silver pendant inlaid with a large, purple gem. The prison warden took it from me after he- Anyway, it's very important to me, so I'd like to get it back if that's possible."
"The warden? So he- That bastard!" Reign cursed to himself. Then to Effie he said, "I'll make sure to get your precious item back for you. And I swear to you that I will find out exactly who laid their filthy fingers on you, and I will make them pay for it. Although I already have my suspicions about who it was..."
And though Effie didn't want trouble, at the same time she thought that she wouldn't mind seeing the warden with one less finger for having touched her... for having nearly violated her. He probably deserved worse, but she she didn't even dare to wish death on someone else, just in case even a bad thought was enough to cause the black shard in her heart to grow.
"They even dared to put you in a cell at the lowest level of the prison," Reign observed, becoming cold and angry again. "This is a place reserved for the worst criminals in the four kingdoms. It is unbelievable... The ill treatment you've suffered here will not be tolerated. I take full responsibility, therefore I will amend the situation. I vow to get you out of here no matter how long it takes. But until then, I must speak with my brother Torin about making more favorable arrangements."
Effie wondered if perhaps she should thank Prince Reign for his sentiments and efforts. But no. How could she even trust that he would follow through with any of his promises? He seemed sincere enough, but she couldn't get over the fact that he was a La Croix. And even if he had no other choice, she could hardly forgive him for putting her here in the first place. No, he still had to earn her trust. And she was not going to make that an easy task for him.
Even after he left her cell that day, she half expected never to see him again.