On Trial

The Prison Barge of the Lost Sea

Three days had felt like three years, to Cassandra. Maybe it was her nerves, her fears, her sadness, her loneliness, all of the above? She didn't know.

As the ship finally slowed to a stop, she rubbed her hands together and gently blew between them, desprate to warm them up. The blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders, that morning, wasn't providing much warmth anymore, as the temparture inside the cabin had dropped considerably, since then.

A jingling key in the door, made her freeze, her shoulders tensed up and she felt the burning urge to scream. It took her sevral moments to realise that she wasn't in the dark or tied down.

"Stand up and put your hands out in front of you."

Cassandra did as she was instructed, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

The guard snapped a pair of cuffs on her wrists and lead her out of the cabin.

She was shoved into a long line of other prisoners, who were crossing from the ship and onto the barge. Petrified, she forced her trembling legs to move, keeping her head low.

She didn't want to do this.

"Hurry up!" Another woman hissed from behind her, shoving her hard, in the back.

Cassandra did, biting down on her lip to stop herself from crying.

The moment she stepped onto the prison barge, she was roughly grabbed and a weapon was aimed at her neck.

"Search her!" A middle aged woman ordered,

Hands patted her down, and reached into her pockets, while voices roared at her to keep still. She hadn't noticed how much she was shaking.

The only thing they found, was the hankercheif she had been given, after her trial. For Cassandra, it was almost like a symbol, for the first act of kindness she had been shown in many weeks.

"Get rid of it."

Cassandra struggled, flailing around, trying to snatch it back.

"No!" She screamed, "give it back, you have no right to take that!"

"I'll have you know, we have all the right to take whatever we want," the woman sneered.

She made a gesture to the two guards holding Cassandra. They nodded, in response, before hauling her away.

The brunette was chucked into a cell that was barely half the size of her boat cabin.
She landed on the grimy floor, wincing as her knees scraped against it. The door creaked before slamming shut, trapping her inside.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice uttered, "if it isn't the Princess' little slave!"

Cassandra looked up to see someone she hoped she'd never have the displeasure of seeing again.

Lady Caine.

She was perched on the edge of left-hand bed, sneering down at her, her eyes glistening in the candlelight.

"What are you in for, sweetheart? Not organising her laundry correctly?"

Cassandra didn't reply, instead, she crawled onto her own bed, wrapped her arms around herself and scrutinized the wall.

A horn sounded out, and the barge began to move across the water.

Cassandra's heart dropped to her stomach.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Caine couldn't help but examine the ex-handmaiden. She was curious about her every move. The way she would bite her already demolished nails, the way she would flinch, whenever the cell door dared to open, and even the way she would twist a strand of her short, dark hair around her finger, every now and then.

Later, when they were eating dinner, she noticed how Cassandra's hands shook, every time she picked her spoon up, and how hesitant she was to put it in her mouth.

"Is it the taste?"

The younger woman glanced at her but didn't respond.

Caine sighed, running her fingers through her let down hair.

"So," she began, trying to spark up a conversation, "what's your deal?"

"Deal?" Cassandra mumbled, stirring the gruel around, distractedly. Caine didn't fail to notice the tears in her eyes.

"Yeah, like, why are you here?" She asked, "what did you do? Did you really mess the Princess' laundry up that bad, because I know that Freddy boy is petty, but I didn't think he was that petty!"

"I don't want to talk about it!" She snapped, turning away, "leave me alone!"

Lady Caine glared at her, feeling the sudden urge to drag her from that bed and teach her a lesson. No one spoke to her like that, especially not a goody two shoes, little guardsman's brat.

But then, she stopped.

A goody two shoes, little guardsman's brat. That's what Cassandra was. She wasn't like her, she wasn't a hardened criminal, she was....a spoilt brat.
She clearly wasn't used to situations like this, being treated like the crap on the bottom of someone's shoe.
She grew up in a castle, with a living father, who still loves and cares for her, and had a very respectable job, as the Princess' lady-in-waiting, at one point.
She hadn't been on her own, on the streets, being arrested and hurt for every little thing she did.
This was all new to her and probably very scary, too.

Caine felt a twinge of sympathy, as she heard the girl cry softly into her pillow.
Her hand was clamped over her mouth, to muffle her sobs and her eyes were squeezed shut, in an attempt to prevent the tears from slipping out of the corners.

Lady Caine wasn't good at comforting people, so she didn't know what to say, she just hoped that the younger girl would come out the other side of this, in one piece.

Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm sorry it's taken longer than usual, I've been very busy as of recent and also lost some motivation, but I'm all good now!

The Freddy Boy name was taken from Commonswift's comments on my AO3 account.