Dawn Carver (3)

1

Freya

Imprisoned.

After my father was murdered, that was the word that used to float through my mind when I was in Veymaw. I grew up happy there; it was my small, peaceful corner of the world. My father's small, run-down cabin was home, the lake was my escape, and the surrounding forest my friend.

But when Samu was taken, Veymaw became my cell. The monotonous days--wake up, go to school, go home, go to sleep--felt like prison.

The forge was freedom. With its underlying threat of danger, its bustling, shadowed streets filled with slimy people with foreign accents. It awoke something in me. It went deeper than finding Samu. The thrill of danger, of being just on the outskirts of the place that was once my sanctuary, never too far to turn back... it kept me alive when everything felt so hopeless.

And in the Elel Palace, imprisoned by restricting gowns, deceptive smiles, and threatening words, I had Killian and Casimir. Cas, with his security and familiar comfort. And Killian, with his electrifying energy, his intrigue, touch, warmth. There was an inevitable feeling that everything would be okay. That it had to be.

That's the thing about imprisonment. Whatever kind of prison you're in, you need something to keep you going. Something to provide warmth, light, hope.

And despite the wintry sun setting around us and the bunches of wildflowers surrounding my market stall, the world has never felt so dark.

"What beautiful midrangi." A plump man with red marks on his cheeks tells me, leaning over the wooden counter to inspect the bunch of red flowers. "Didn't think they grew 'round this time of year."

"We caught the last of the season, sir."

He tilts his head sideways, staring at me a bit closer. "Are you new to Dadun?" I nod my head. He leans closer. "Have we met before? There's something familiar about you--"

"Travis!" Hana appears behind me, a wide grin on her face as she puts a hand on my shoulder. "Have you met my cousin Alice? She just moved from Portson."

His suspicion softens at Hana's intrusion, the warmth exuding from her settling him slightly. It's the second day I've been allowed out of the cell Hana kept Lei and me in, but not the first time I've witnessed Hana's manipulation of the people in this village.

My eyes scan the marketplace. Smaller than Veymaw, narrow passageways depart from the surrounding streets, escape routes shrouded in shadows. It takes everything inside of me not to bolt.

Wait. A familiar voice murmurs in my mind. Not now.

The man leans back slightly. "You look like someone I know, Alice." He leans back, perplexed. "Can't quite place you."

My shoulders tighten, but I don't say anything. Dadun is the smallest village in Elel, farthest from the Palace, but I don't doubt the King's posters of me reached all this way. My hair, falling to my waist in the King's depiction of me, now rests just beneath my shoulders in a jagged cut -- Hana's attempt to disguise me.

The newly formed dark marks on my right palm are a more notable change. But that wasn't her doing.

Hana distracts the man with something else, talking of the weather and business. Her warm demeanor is almost enough to fool me; but I know the truth. She despises these villagers as much as I despise her.

I tune both of them out, catching eyes with Lei across the marketplace. She offers a curt nod before plastering on a bright smile as she passes a second hand book over to the vendor. I follow the length of her arm, brushing against the burgundy frock. Her thumb points backwards, towards the side street to her left.