'Mariah, my lady.'
Fiana's eyes move over the girl's face and down to her chest, where her breasts are pierced with golden rings and a delicate chain runs between them. Another goes from her nose down to between her thighs and I assume she’s ringed there as well. I don’t let my disgust show on my face. I’ve seen this before in more than one Circle, though not usually with gold. Another way for Fiana to show off, as all of her slaves are dripping with precious metals. Some even have jewels in their ears as well.
Fiana steps closer and peers down at the girl, who's visibly quaking. She doesn't say a word. Just stares. The girl's lower lip begins to tremble as Fiana's hand caresses the girl's shoulder and takes hold of the chain, drawing her up quickly.
'You do remind me of her with that dark hair. You could be her sister,' she murmurs to herself.
I can barely hear her.
'Yes. You'll do nicely.'
The fae queen pulls the chain hard, making the girl squeal, and one side of her lips turns upward.
'Yes. Very nicely.'
She motions with one of her hands, and her guard comes over. 'Put this one in the block. Let the bulls have her for a while, and then have her brought to my personal dungeon.'
He nods and takes the girl by her hair. She’s even more subdued, quietly sobbing but doesn't make any other noise of dissent, and Fiana turns around as if she'd forgotten that I was behind her.
'Come,' she says again.
I make myself quirk a brow. ‘What will you do with her?’
‘Anything I like,’ she snarls, her face morphing from serene to furious, only to change back just as quickly.
Why was she so interested in that one?
Perhaps because she looks a bit like Lia.
Without another word, she takes me down a corridor to some steep steps. At the bottom of them is another corridor. It's damp and dank down here. There's a pervading smell of rot. Of unwashed bodies. A dungeon, if I ever smelled one. It's dim as well, the sputtering torches letting out very little light.
She opens the door, and I hear wailing coming from further along the passage. When we get to the next open doorway, I see cells filled with humans, and I realize I’ve been brought to the stolen residents of Halsford.
They're not dead, nor lost to Fiana’s intricate Dark Realm network of slavers and human farms. Not yet.
When some of the villagers recognize me and look at me beseechingly, I let out a loud laugh to make sure they don’t start begging me to save them.
I stroll past some of the cells slowly, noting the faces that I see. Most, if not all, are here.
I pause outside a smaller door with no one inside at first glance, but as my eyes strain to see the back, I make out a lone occupant.
Bryn.
She’s curled into a ball. She doesn’t look at me.
My smile is as cold as I can make it when I turn back to look at Fiana.
‘So, this is where you bring them first, and sort them?’
She nods. ‘This is but one dungeon of many. In a few hours, they’ll be separated. Some will go to the farms, the strongest to my personal stock, and the ones who are left will be paraded through my court.’
‘Indeed?’ I turn up my nose. ‘Around the hall? But they’re so…dirty.’
Fiana sniffs delicately. ‘They’re made to bathe before my favored will take them. Mostly to play with, though some of mycourtiers like to pit them against each other in the arenas, or let them be torn to pieces as fodder for the beasts in the games.’
I turn to face her, regarding her with a small smile. ‘Why have you brought me down here, my lady Fiana? Why are you answering my questions? We’ve already established that you trust no one, so why show me all this?’
‘At first you were an interesting little diversion, but now I’m wondering if you might actually be able to help me,’ she says, gliding closer.
