A Tale That Dawned [Book 4 of Selvina's Tale series]

Chapter 28: Captive Guest

Selvina huddled in the corner of a small, narrow room, cloaked in shadow. The tiny space had a cot alongside one wall, a chair in the corner near the door and across from that, oddly, a tiny bookshelf with a handful of books. Underneath the bed was a lidded chamber pot that Selvina had yet to use and rather hoped she never had to. Lighting up the entire room was a single oil lamp on a tiny table at the foot of the bed, beside the bookshelf. The room also had a small, narrow window on the wall across the bed.

Of course it's too small to fit through, Selvina thought, glancing at it now as she heard the rumble of thunder outside.

She hadn't slept since she woke up in her prison, too terrified to do anything but hug her knees to her chest and find solace in the darkness. Knowing that she was now in the empress's domain, whether a castle, mansion, or whatever it may be, made her tremble. Her quest had always been destined to lead her to the empress but with friends at her side. Not alone. Never alone.

She had also been under the impression that she would reach the empress on her own terms, and perhaps with a comfortably large army behind her. Now, however, everything was changed. She was here on the empress's terms and there was no army and no friends coming to save her. How could they? Storming the city was suicide.

As horrifying a reality as it was, Selvina was completely on her own. She'd have to use her own wits and wiles to survive, both of which she doubted would be sufficient.

For the umpteenth time since she had waken up, Selvina wiped at tears. Crying made her feel weak and yet, in some strange way, it comforted her. It released all the tension her body had built shivering in fear and, for a few moments, threw responsibility and care away. As she wept, fear gave way to submission and she felt ready to deal with whatever cruel fate Empress Rhiannon had in store for her.

But, mercilessly, the tears did eventually end and her resolve slowly returned alongside the fear for her own life. During those times her mind cycled through measures of escape, tactics for battling the empress—such as using that oil lamp to burn her to a crisp—or words and phrases she could use to talk her way out the situation. They all sounded perfectly feasible as she thought of them but soon after memories of the battle on forest road would flash in her mind and her confidence crumbled. The tears were then never far behind.

Selvina wasn't entirely certain how long she had been in the room but she guessed it was probably almost a whole day, perhaps longer. Only once had anyone come to meet her, and that had been when a short and stout fellow with a great beard had briefly opened the door and slid a plate of food into the room. Selvina had initially refused it but, as if in betrayal, her stomach had begged her to eat. The food had smelled rather delicious and had tasted even more so. A pitcher of water and a cup had been delivered with the food and she still had some of the water left, saving it for later. Food and water may be infrequent delicacies and she didn't want to slowly die of starvation. A part of her wondered if that was such a bad fate but she remembered her time aboard Peter Pan's ship and how her denial of food there had done nothing. If she wished to escape she'd need all the strength she could gather.

I escaped Pan, I can escape Rhiannon, she thought as her tears ebbed away. A moment later, her brows furrowed as she asked herself why should she? She may not have her friends with her or an army to back her up but she was here, with the empress. Amalthea herself said that she would need to speak to her about The Writer. Why escape only to come back again? The empress would come for her eventually, for whatever reason, be it torture or something more terrible Selvina hadn't thought of, and when she did would be the time to talk to her about her destined quest.

"I'm not here to stop her from conquering anything," she reasoned aloud, courage and confidence building with every word. "I only need her help. King Arthur can deal with her armies. I only want to talk. She should give me that. She has to, otherwise all her conquering will be for nothing if The Writer wins." Selvina nodded in determination. Yes, that seemed right. She shouldn't be afraid. The empress had only done her a favour.