"I don't want to miss the festival," Mason complained.
"You won't," Baker snapped. "Stop whining about it."
"But it starts in a few hours!"
"The execution will be over in an hour. They announced the Commodore's son will sign a treaty at midday, beginning the festival. There's plenty of time for us to get there."
Brenna was scooched back into the far corner of her cell, hidden in shadow. The whispers from her last dream still played in the back of her mind.
"How many steps did you take from the door of the jail to your cell?" Titania's soothing tone had asked. "Let me save you. Tell me, let me come and rescue you."
"I don't remember," Brenna had lied.
"Of course you do. Do not let stubbornness mean your death. Tell me." The cadence of the voice had been like a mother coaxing a child out of a pout.
Brenna's guards paid her little attention. There were no windows in her cell. The thick stones meant there was no escape.
"It's a bit of a shame, don't you think? To keep her alive while she waits to die? Wouldn't it be nicer to just… do it… as soon as the decision is made?" Mason asked.
"That's not how it's done. She's allowed a counselor, if she wants. Or a final visitor to take custody of her things."
"But no one's coming for her," Mason protested.
"No," Baker agreed quietly, glancing backward. "No one's coming for her."
A tear streaked down Brenna's face. She refused to give it the acknowledgement of wiping it away, choosing to let it fall.
In the other corner, invisible to the guards, a gash of Darkness hovered. To them, it was dismissed as a deep shadow, much like the one Brenna sat in.
To Brenna, it was a choice. To live, or to die. She sat, stubbornly.
Titania's voice did not reach out, did not coax any longer. The Void waited for Brenna's decision, like a silent black cat that knew patience was the way to get what it wanted.
Forty-three steps from the front of the building hovered a way out of jail. A way out of the town. A way out of the world.
"When will that blasted executioner arrive? I want to see the Cetoan prince." Mason fretted. "Is he anything like the Rhone one?"
"I don't think they call him a prince." Baker chastised.
"What else do you call the one who takes over when the leader dies?" The other man asked.
"Why would I know that?"
Brenna's troubled mind wondered if they were speaking of Caspian or Edmar. The elder was the heir… but the guards wouldn't know that, would they? Poor Edmar… he wasn't in Klain, was he? She would have heard of that, right?
She sighed. Why would she? She was here in jail. The only things she knew were what Mason's chatty disposition let slip.
Brenna looked down at her hands, marveling at the irony of her situation even as she pitied herself. She was about to be executed for serving the Void, as she understood the accusation.
Here she sat, refusing to do so. The only way to survive would be to commit the crime of which she was accused.
Was she willing?
Was serving the Void worse than death?
"I'm innocent," She whispered.
"Did you hear that?" Mason asked.
"Hear what?" Baker sighed.
"She said something," The first man jerked his chin towards the prisoner.
"What did you say? Did you have last words for us to take down before your execution?" Baker's tone was professional now.
"No last words," Brenna's eyes filled with tears. "I wanted you to know I'm innocent."
"Forget it! You won't get sympathy out of us." Mason glared at her.
"There is no need to be cruel to someone about to die," Baker sneered at the other guard, and then turned to Brenna.
He paused for a moment, and she remembered him rebuking Mason over talking in front of her or to her previously. His eyes were narrow, his lips pinched.
"You don't believe her, do you?" Mason asked incredulously.
"If I did, what should I do? I would not disobey my orders and release her. If I did not believe her, what should I do? I would not disobey orders and torture or kill her before the executioner came." Baker shrugged.
"Umm… but do you?"
"I am innocent," Brenna said again, a little louder. "I don't expect anyone to do anything about it. I just wanted someone to know it."
She held Baker's eyes. If even one person could believe in her, she could die to keep their good opinion. To die innocent… was it pointless if no one knew?
"If I believed you were innocent, I might have to carry on my mind the weight of your wrongful death." He tilted his head. "I think I will choose not to do that."
Brenna turned to Mason, but from the scowl on his face, she knew that he thought worse of her than Baker.
"Write my last words," She said, coming slowly to her feet.
Mason scrambled for some paper, and held it under the nearest lamp so he could write on it.
Baker gazed at her curiously, and she stared back into his eyes with a bleak expression.
"I am innocent," She said again. "I have made many mistakes, but I never intentionally served the Void. I have resisted its calls, and tried to do what is good… or at least, not hurt anyone. My conscience isn't clear of wrongdoing, but I wanted the chance to atone."
A clangor at the front of the jail was accompanied by some fanfare of the executioner's arrival. Brenna did not break eye contact with Baker.
"The cost of that endeavor seems to be the forfeiture of my life. It is a price I'm not willing to pay."
Baker's eyes widened, and his hand flew down to the ring of keys tied on his belt. "Don't do any–"
She didn't hear the rest of his sentence. She dove into the Darkness, expecting the harsh silence and oppressive black to grasp her in its clutches like a vulture holds a carcass in its talons.
Instead, she landed softly as the portal closed behind her. Strong arms caught her, and she was carried with remarkable speed through the Darkness. After a few moments, a doorway of light appeared, and the two figures stepped through it, one holding the other.
Brenna was crying.
"There, there, dear one." The voice was male, and Brenna looked up in surprise, scrambling out of his arms. His hair was white, his eyes black. His face was ageless and handsome.
"Who are you?" She stammered, though she thought she already knew the answer. He wore the black formal attire of Rhone, and the queen's onyx amulet.
"The one you serve. The only one who cares for you," The voice and image before Brenna changed into that of Titania.
It was terrifying proof, if she needed any, that the queen she had served was a monster… a monster she now served once again.
"What must I do?" Brenna fell to her knees, wretchedly. She knew there would be no turning away, ever again. Her escape would be reported, and the method proof of her wrongdoing.
"Don't look so sad, child." Titania grasped her hands and pulled Brenna to her feet. "You are precious to me, though this world does not see your value."
"I–" Brenna wanted so badly to have her woes heard, but pouring out her heart to the Void seemed… unwise. "Thank you," She finished lamely. "For saving my life."
"Shall I wreak vengeance for you? Kill your guards and the executioner? Perhaps the surrounding town?" Titania's smile widened. "Slowly or quickly? How much would you like them to suffer for your pains?"
"No!" Brenna burst out. "Please don't do anything… that would distract from your plans. I am nothing. That they would live long enough to see your power would be enough."
Flattery and groveling to the queen were well within Brenna's skillset after her time serving the woman. It had been over two years, but the pattern came back to her naturally. Whether Titania bought the act or accepted the performance of it regardless of whether she meant it was unknown to her.
"Sweet, precious child. You deserve so much more than this cruel world has given you." Titania cooed.
The words struck a nerve, and Brenna nodded. "I healed Haf for the Cetoans, and Cora still searched me and jailed me rather than believe her son might like me! Am I so ugly and awful?? Would I be so terrible a daughter in law? Am I the scum of the earth to be trampled on?"
The fact that she had enchanted Edmar was beside the point. They all jumped to believing the worst about her. Everyone expected her to be evil… so now, she would fulfill those expectations. She raised her chin and looked into Titania's sparkling black eyes.
"Tell me whatever you want me to do, and I will serve. Your wish is my will."