I Am Bree - Book 1

Chapter 27 - Accused & The Figure in the Dark

         Iron hands gripped my arms, threatening to cut off my blood supply. My heartbeat thrummed in my ears, and I struggled to breathe. The guards hauled me upright, their faces revealing no hint of kindness.

"Take her to the dungeons." King Erik's voice was riddled with disgust, but I could detect no concern for the well-being of his son.

"Wait!" I cried as they moved to drag me away. "I don't understand." I struggled against their grip.

Flames lit in the king's eyes. The strength of his blow caught me off guard. Stars danced in my vision, and the taste of blood filled my mouth. If not for the support of the soldiers at my sides, I would have fallen.

"How dare you?" He fisted a handful of my hair, hauling my head up to meet his gaze. "You're nothing more than a street-side whore, and you dared to try to seduce my son. Did you think I was ignorant of your ploy? If you've killed my son, believe me, I'll make you beg for death before I give it to you."

My heart stopped. Killed—killed his son? He thought I—my brain went blank. How could he imagine such a thing? Fear overcame any confusion I'd had. If he believed I was behind whatever had happened to Aidan, there was nothing I could say that would convince him otherwise. I would be executed without trial.

"Get her out of my sight, and have no mercy." King Erik spat disgustedly. "I don't imagine I need to teach you how to properly welcome someone who threatens your monarch."

Unable to stop myself, I called out desperately: "Wait!"

The guards paid no attention to my call, however. Without even pausing to see the king's reaction, they practically carried me through the doors. My mouth was a dry desert, and my memory of the route they took was nothing more than a blur. I didn't know what the punishment was for making an attempt on a royal's life, but I knew that I was about to find out. They wouldn't care if I were innocent or not. I had no voice or position to do anything about my situation.

The smell hit me before I realized where we were, and I became aware of my surroundings again. It was cold. The light was dim and artificial. We were below ground: the dungeons.

"There should be an empty cell on the east corridor." One of the guards said, his voice abnormally loud in the dark.

"We'll be stringing her up first." The other guard's voice was gravelly.

"Won't his majesty want a public interrogation?" The first man said.

"That doesn't mean we can't have a bit of fun with her first." The gravelly voice was sadistic.

I shrank at the humor in his tone. Any last hope I'd been holding onto for a bit of mercy or kindness from one of them was extinguished.

The first man snickered a little. "It'll make it easier if we get a confession out of her early."

A grunt of agreement followed, and before I knew what was happening, they'd dragged my limp body into a wide, well-lit room. They dropped me onto the floor, and the overwhelming scent of rotting human flesh and blood violently invaded my senses. I struggled not to vomit.

A pair of shackles was roughly clasped around my wrists, and a clattering, clanking sound filled my ears. I cried out involuntarily as my arms were jerked above my head. The chains went taught, and I clambered onto my feet to avoid the brutal pain. The pulling didn't stop, however, until my feet were dangling just above the ground.

My breath whistled through my lungs, and I struggled not to cry. Terror was my only friendly companion in the eerie light. I knew intimately the extent of Madame and Adella's treatment. They wanted to hurt me, but they wouldn't hurt me enough to kill me. Here, I had the instinctive feeling that I would plea for death before my wishes were granted.