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He sighed deeply before replying. "I suppose you're right," Vinir said slowly. "Perhaps I can give it a chance and see how it goes."
He left Roland then to wander the castle instead. Vinir wanted to believe he could learn to love Aelwen, but he knew it couldn’t be forced, and they would have to learn to love in their own time.
The only problem was, would she want to see him again after everything he'd done and said?
At this point, it seemed like the best thing he could do was give her space, even if he wanted nothing more than to try and make amends.
Chapter 7 - Aelwen
Vinir wrapped his hands around Lord Sawgar's throat, squeezing and twisting. The lord's cries came as agonized moans, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and flapping like a fish.
Flesh burning, sizzling like meat on a grill. The acrid scent of being burned alive.
Aelwen woke with a start, the sheets tangled around her and covered in sweat. She panted as she grabbed at her own throat, remembering how Vinir had grabbed her there as a threat, but his touch hadn't burned her.
But he'd almost killed Lord Sawgar.
As the night terror faded and she adjusted to reality again, Aelwen knew she wasn't going to be able to sleep. Again. There was no point in staying in bed, so after laying there in the warmth for a while longer, she reluctantly peeled herself from the sheets. The stone floor was cool against her feet as she went to find shoes and a gown suitable enough to wander the castle with during the day.
Vinir had a typical nocturnal schedule, so at least she wouldn't have to worry about running into him. He would be long asleep by now.
Pressing out into the castle, she wandered past the various paintings and sculptures that lined the walls like a gallery. The light from the stained glass windows illuminated their rich colors, and Aelwen found herself drawn to them. Each one was more exquisite than the last; portraits of past kings and queens, landscapes of faraway lands, battle scenes that depicted heroic deeds in vivid detail.
As she stopped to admire a particularly striking painting of a knight on horseback, her fingertips brushed against something unexpected. There was a click, and a piece of gold shore away from the frame. She gasped, thinking she'd broken it somehow, but then the wall behind the painting began to rumble and move. It slid open with a soft hiss of air pressure as its ancient gears shifted into place revealing an opening in the wall—a secret passage.
Excitement bubbled up inside Aelwen. She'd uncovered one of these ancient castle's secrets ... but where would it lead?
She glanced to both sides of the hallway to see if anyone else had noticed, but at this early hour, no one was around. She climbed through the wall, dust flying up into her lungs. She covered her mouth and coughed as she went into the darkness.
Behind her, the wall rumbled again and shut, but she continued on into the unknown.
The tunnel sloped downwards, deeper and deeper into the castle. Aelwen could feel a chill in the air as she descended, but it seemed to be full of energy and electricity. She had no idea what was down there, but her curiosity drove her forward. With each step, the darkness around her seemed to grow more oppressive, but also less human.
A faint light shone at the end of the tunnel. Aelwen's heart pounded in her chest as she approached a slim gap in the wall. Through the other side, it was dark except for a few flickering torches, which seemed to indicate this place wasn't entirely abandoned. In the distance, there was a hoarse wailing sound that made her shudder, but she was too curious to see what she'd stumbled upon to go back now.
She stepped out into an old dungeon that appeared long forgotten by time. The walls were lined with cells, all of themappearing to be empty. Except for when Aelwen passed one, there was another gasping wail that came from inside.
Alewen stopped in front of the cage, looming closer to get a better look at the inside. Out from the darkness poked the head of a fae man, his white hair matted with dirt and blood. She jerked away, startled by his sudden appearance.
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was a gaspy, breathy sound. Aelwen saw the stub of his tongue and gasped, covering her mouth.
"Oh, no," she cried. Then she noticed the rest of his body—the patchwork of angry red stitches on his bare torso. "Who did this to you?"
The man groaned.
"The king?"
He nodded solemnly.
"Are there more of you? More fae?"
He nodded again, and pointed.
Aelwen backed away from the cage, stunned and terrified. There was a horrible sinking in her stomach, and she was overcome by the sense that the world was spinning. But she walked on anyway. Down the hall, there were more fae prisoners, huddled in the cold, dark cells.
The sight filled her with dread—these were her people—and yet there they were, locked away in cells like animals in cages. Her heart ached for them and she felt immense guilt for being so safe within these castle walls while her fellow fae suffered here amongst rats and cobwebs.
King Vinir was holding fae prisoners in his dungeons and doing terrible things to them. She had no idea what to thinkabout her discovery, only that ... that everything she'd come to think about Vinir was a lie.
