Her Majesty. Noël.
My throat tightens, and I nod stiffly. Words fail me. My mouth is dry. She’s speaking on Noël’s behalf.
The vólkin holds my gaze for a moment longer. Then she strides away, the living leaves scurrying back up her arm before disappearing altogether.
I’m left sitting there, staring at the spot where she stood, trying to make sense of what just happened. My ankles are free, my mind anything but.
Bathe?
The water in the basin she left behind is clear, shining with the light of a crystal nestled at the bottom. Hesitant, I dip my hand into the water.
It’s warm.
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. A warm bath. How long has it been since I’ve had one? In the barracks there were no baths, just rows of cold metal showerheads. In summer, the water would scald. In winter, it was icy enough to numb your skin.
The only time I truly enjoyed a bath was at a friend’s house. Back then, we were allowed to leave the barracks once every few months, but I rarely went home. Róstan was too far, and traveling there for only a weekend didn’t make sense.
One time, my roommate invited me to his family’s home in Tárnov. I agreed, eager to see what life outside the barracks was like.
Walking into his house was like stepping into another world. Strong stone walls, furniture that looked like it belonged in a merchant’s gallery, and the scent of real home-cooked food hanging in the air. His parents greeted us warmly, and his brothers ran around the house, their laughter echoing off the walls of their big home.
A family.
How different his life was from mine. A father, a mother, a real home. At least five siblings, maybe more.
Unlike me and Linnéa. Orphaned before we had a chance to know what a real family could be.
I glance over at the two guards stationed outside. Their backs are turned.
It’s fine, right? Just to take off my clothes?
They don’t wear clothes anyway.
Slowly, I strip out of the dirty, tattered fabric clinging to my body. Each piece drops on the floor with a heavy thud—a thud of blood- and piss-soaked fabric. The basin of water looks small, but I step in and carefully lower myself. I actually fit, as long as I don’t stretch my legs all the way.
I’m no tall man, a little taller than Noël. And she’s... well, she’s a shorty. Probably around five feet tall.
Letting the warmth of the water seep into my muscles, I lean my head back. The tension I’ve carried for weeks begins to melt away.
Oh, this is incredible.
For the first time in forever, I feel like a human again. I close my eyes and relax.
“Human!”
My body flinches before my brain even catches up. Water sloshes around me as a cold shiver runs across my skin. I snap my eyes open and see a dark vólkin standing at the entrance of my cell.
A gasp escapes me as I instinctively try to move backward, but the basin doesn’t allow much room for retreat. Right. I’m in this thing.
The giant vólkin lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his snout with a clawed hand. His fur is pitch black, his burgundy crystals glowing faintly above a single, piercing blue eye. The other socket is empty with a jagged scar across it.
Oh gods. He has one eye.
“Y-yes?” I stammer as I close my thighs.
After the way the other vólkins mocked my body, I’m not about to give this one a reason to laugh at me too. Compared to them, I’m practically a runt. Gods, just his balls are bigger than my entire length. How could anyone even compare themselves to these creatures?
He tosses a bit of fabric at me, and I manage to catch it before it falls into the water. My tunic and trousers, clean and dry.
