Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Eighty Six

A/N -- That song is reminiscent of one that happens in the chapter (after the dashes). Give it a listen, ya'll!

Rhalla had been imprisoned for four days. It had been miserable, to be true. She'd seen Nealon on at least nine separate occasions. Each time, he'd just fed her and then sat in the cell corner, quiet. The last time, he'd brought a book for himself. She hadn't seen Baron Riasion since he'd left his son to take her every which way. In the back of her mind, she wondered what Nealon had reported about his visits. Surely they were false reports of her suffering, or the baron would have done the job himself already.

Whatever the case, she was indebted to Nealon. When the cell door clicked open again five minutes later, she saw him for the tenth time. He looked incredibly well-dressed this visit, wearing an embroidered blue doublet. His dark hair was braided down his back. Nealon also looked very anxious. He shut the door behind him quietly.

Rhalla watched as he pulled some bread from his pack, just as he had done the other times. As before, he'd only held it to her mouth. He didn't force it down her throat or try and choke her with it like the baron might have done. That and he was even kind enough to look away as she ate. It bruised Rhalla's pride to eat from someone's hand, and he knew it. When she was done, she coughed to let him know. Nealon's head snapped back to survey her face.

He just stood for a minute before he spoke, as if he were trying to figure out how to say what weighed on his mind. His voice was soft and somber. "There's something you should know. There's a victory celebration tonight. The remaining men... they'll be there, mind for a small squadron that will stay in the girl's chambers to... respond to the horn should the guardians or soldiers return." To kill them, was implied. "You are to be washed before this celebration. It's supposed to be my job." He met her eyes. "But I won't touch you. I've brought a female to bathe you."

"Washed for what?"

"You'll be there. The main event, he called you. The Cricket that invaded... tied up and helpless. They'll make toasts to your failure. They'll laugh in your face. And then, my father means to end the celebration in the red room. For one night, the women's services are free. He wants you there with them," came the strangled admission. "I can't save you there. I can't just pretend like I've..." his voice trailed off. "Not with so many witnesses. If he sees I don't want you harmed... then I have no chance of ever saving you from anything ever again."

Rhalla's stomach sunk at the news. She took a deep breath. In a situation like this, control was impossible. Her body would be ransacked against her will, even with Nealon's help. Still, she looked at him and held on to what little control she had. "Am I to be had by anyone that wants me?"

Nealon looked sorrowful. "Yes."

Rhalla swallowed a lump in her throat. "Do you find me disgusting?" was all she asked.

Nealon looked taken aback. "I... no. You're just a person."

"I'm not a beautiful person," she replied after a moment of silence. "But if my arms are covered. If... if they paint my face... I... I'm told I have nice eyes... And I'm clean. I take care of myself."

"I don't understand."

"If I am to be... used tonight, with no exceptions," she sputtered the words with tears in her eyes. "Then let it be you."

Nealon's heart dropped into his stomach.

"Or if you don't want to, just cut my throat here," Rhalla told him. Suddenly, she was sobbing. The mighty Rhalla broke down and cried. "I can't do it again. I just can't. I can't see face after disgusting face, hear the voices. Hear the sounds as they slam themselves into me. I can't feel their hands bruise me. I can't feel so powerless anymore. I just can't."