Awareness trickled into Effie's consciousness like a slow drip. The first thing she noticed was how her cheekbone ached pressed hard against the cold stone floor. Her lashes slowly fluttered open, her eyes taking some time to focus in on the dark world around her.
She didn't remember exactly when she had fallen asleep in her cell, apparently too exhausted to fight the growing fatigue any longer. And though she was hardly well-rested now, at least she could manage with whatever meager rest the fitful sleep had afforded her.
Effie didn't know what time it was, nor how long she had been asleep for. There was no way to guess for certain. But judging by the fierce hunger gnawing away at her hollow stomach, Effie figured it had been some time. The guards had come to bring her food three separate times, and if the cycle was one meal a day, then Effie could only assume it had been about three days since she was thrown into this horrible, damp cell that stunk of mildew and excrement.
She had still been refusing to eat the paltry rations of the noxious gruel they called food. Her body was beginning to grow weak and dizzy with hunger. But she had decided she'd rather starve to death than accept this prison was her new home.
As Effie pulled her aching body upright into a seated position on the floor, whispers outside of her cell began to reach her ears. Guards talking in hushed voices so low Effie couldn't make out the words. But whatever they were talking about, judging by the seriousness of their tones, it was something sombre. Effie knew the conversation was probably not meant for her ears, but her curiosity was peaked, so she silently moved closer to the door, trying to hear what they were saying. It wasn't like she had anything better to do than eavesdrop anyway.
"It isn't like him at all," one of the guards was saying. "He normally mopes about the palace and keeps to himself. But now hes going around doing whatever he pleases as if he's suddenly in charge. It's almost as if this witch put a spell on him, turning him into a raging monster."
"I heard the punishments were severe," the other guard said. "They say Prince Reign tracked down every guard who came in contact with the witches, and made each of them suffer."
"The prince has finally lost it," the first guard remarked. "I knew it would happen someday. I just always figured it would be the disease that would get to him. I never would have guessed a little witch would be the cause of his downfall. It's a strange world we live in..."
'Disease?' Effie thought. 'What disease?'
"Strange indeed," the second guard agreed. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm just glad I didn't have anything to do with that witch, or I'd probably be next."
"Still," the first guard added, "we're stationed the same floor she's on, so I'm a bit nervous myself. What if Prince Reign has completely lost it and punishes us both just for mere association?"
"I sure hope that isn't the case," the second guard said. "Ah, speak of the devil... we'd better shut up. I think he's coming right now."
And just as the second guard had said that, a pair of footsteps could be heard echoing distantly throughout the chambers and corridors of the prison. And as the footsteps approached, the two whispering guards had grown as silent, and probably as pale, as ghosts. And as soon as Effie realized the footsteps were heading in the general direction of her cell, she felt the color drain from her own face. She began to back away from the door, cowering in the corner of her little cell, trying to become invisible in the shadows.
But that didn't stop the footsteps form nearing.
The broad, familiar silhouette of the warden was soon standing at her door, and at the sight of him, Effie felt fear grip the base of her spine, freezing her in place.
Ah, just as she was beginning to think the warden might have forgotten about her, he'd finally come for her after all. She wondered what he was about to do to her now to enact his revenge. But after a short time, the warden didn't do anything but stand there, and Effie began to wonder what was going on. As her eyes adjusted through the darkness, she started to make out a tray that he was holding in his hands.
"I- I was told to personally deliver your meal today," the warden finally choked out his first words, as if it pained him to say them. As if he was being forced to say them under some duress.
It was so odd and unexpected that Effie's fear was all but drowned out by a new sense of utter confusion. Still, she was frozen in place, finding herself unable to move.
Then, to her surprise, the next voice that spoke to her wasn't the warden's but somebody else.
"It's alright, Euphemia," the voice said gently. "It's safe to come over. He won't be hurting you today. Or ever."
Reign? Why was she hearing his voice?
But somehow, the sound of his voice put her body back into motion again. Slowly, cautiously she began to approach the door. The first thing she noticed was the warden's hands. The thumb she had taken a bite out of was bandaged now, but so was a little bloody nub on the end of his hand where his pinky finger should have been. Her mind instantly remembered back to the day when Reign had stopped her execution and sentenced her to prison. Hadn't he mentioned something about removing the fingers of anyone who would dare to touch her? Something along those lines anyway.
So, Reign had kept his promise then. Even at the gruesome sight of the warden's hand, she couldn't help but feel a bit of relief in knowing that.
The next thing she noticed was that the warden wasn't alone. Behind him stood Reign, who was surprisingly about as tall as the burly warden himself, but not nearly as broad in comparison. In fact, she was beginning to realize how frail and delicate his build really was for a man. Even though he was somewhat muscular as she had observed at the pond, he was still quite thin, a feature that stood out more starkly than ever next to the large frame of the warden standing next to him. The the word 'disease' that the guard had spoken earlier came up again, floating through Effie's mind. Was Prince Reign really ill?
"Sit the tray down over here," Reign instructed the warden coldly.
The warden obeyed, but as he did so, his eyes shot Effie a dangerous warning that Reign didn't see.
"Good," Reign said, once the tray was put down. "You may leave now. I will take care of the rest myself. But make certain you never touch her again, or you might find your entire hand missing the next time. That is, if you're lucky. Oh wait. Before you go, isn't there something you're forgetting?"
The warden grumbled something nasty under his breath that Effie did not catch, and then he reached into the collar of his shirt and produced the glittering, purple gem of immeasurable beauty that he had stolen from her before. The Moonshadow stone! Reluctantly he held it out to her in his large hand and waited for her to take it.
"I believe this belongs to you," he sad stiffly, his voice rigid with tension. And she couldn't tell if it was because he was handing over the precious item he had meant to get rich from, or if it was his pride being deeply wounded by being forced to do so.
Effie reached out, quickly swiping it from his hand before he had a chance to touch her if he had even planned on doing it. But he made no such move to do so. Still, Effie backed away from the door again, as she strung the pendant back around her neck.
"Good," Reign said, eyeing the warden, his golden eyes burning. "Now leave us."
With that, the warden turned swiftly, and disappeared into the shadowy hallway, the heels of his boots clicking vehemently with each step until their sharp echoes dissipated into the distance.
Once the warden was gone, Reign reached out and pulled up a short wooden stool from somewhere Effie couldn't see. Then he took a seat next to her large iron door, crossing his long legs and sitting the food tray gingerly in his lap.
"Come, Euphemia," he said, his voice no longer cold and severe, but now much gentler. "I heard you haven't been eating these days. So I'm here to make sure you do."
"No," Effie replied shortly, and was surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded coming through her dry lips. "I- I won't eat anything they try to make me eat here. I'd rather starve."
"Not even if this bowl is filled with something much better than the prison's disgusting slop? Look, it's not prison gruel, but a delicious pork stew which I had my own kitchen staff prepare for you."
At the sight of the stew in Reigns lap, Effie's ironclad resolve began to crumble. Reign lifted a beautiful silver spoon off the tray, which was so ornate it must have come straight from the palace dining hall, and with it he began stirring the stew, releasing a luxurious aroma of warm pork and spices into the air that caused Effie's hollow stomach scream in response.
"Come, have a bite. Or are you afraid it's poisoned?"
Reign suddenly lifted a spoonful of the stew to his own mouth and took a bite. And Effie's mouth watered at the sight, imaging it was her eating the stew instead.
"See?" he said with assurance in his voice once he'd swallowed. "Not poisoned. Now it's your turn."
Reign scooped up another spoonful of the steaming stew, and blew on it a little before pushing it between the bars of her cage, offering it to her. And it was then that all of Effie's willpower and defenses finally fell away completely. Weak from starvation, she crawled on hands and knees, inching closer and closer. There she sat, craning her neck and taking a bite from the outstretched spoon in Reign's hand. An incredible flavor exploded in her mouth as the velvety-smooth stew slipped eagerly past her tongue and down her throat.
It was the most delicious bowl of stew Effie thought she had ever tasted. She wasn't certain if it was thanks to her agonizing hunger, or maybe the fact that the La Croix family was simply enjoying the best ingredients cooked by the best chefs that royalty could buy. Either way, the warmth in her belly began to spread throughout the rest of her body until she became desperate for more.
"Don't eat too quickly." Reign smiled as if he was watching an adorable child, holding out the next spoonful which Effie ate right up. "You'll make yourself sick."
As Effie continued to eat, more of her strength and senses slowly returned to her. And soon, she couldn't help but start to notice the soft beauty of Reign's face again, as he watched her with tenderness while she ate from his spoon. She couldn't help but notice the way his chin rested in his other hand, while his long, snow-white bangs fell over his handsome face; nor the way his thick, white lashes turned downward as he continued to watch her eat.
Suddenly, she was hit squarely with the realization that such a beautiful person, a prince, a man of royalty was now feeding her, a lowly country girl, from his own hand. A rush of warmth found its way to the surface of her skin, and turned her head so he wouldn't see the way her cheeks were beginning to burn.
"Oh? Are you done then?" Reign asked with surprise when she had suddenly pulled away.
"Yes," Effie replied curtly. "I'm quite done." The embarrassment and shame had stolen away what was left of her appetite anyway.
"Well, it'll have to do for now I suppose. You've eaten most of it. I'll be bringing you dinner later tonight as well. Form now on you'll be eating three square meals a day. You may have anything you desire from the royal kitchen. Just name it, and I will order it to be made."
Effie sat back on her heels, regarding Reign through the darkness. But she didn't know what to say. Thank you? Somehow she still couldn't bring herself to say those words to him. Not yet. Though the kindness he had shown her today was slowly breaking down her walls, she decided she still wouldn't properly thank him until he'd guaranteed her safety and rescued her from this situation. And her Aunt Anise as well...
As if he had read her mind, Reign finally said, "you want to know about your Aunt now, don't you?"