PRESENT

I don't think I had ever been as terrified as I was sitting on that sofa next to Anathema. Being scared wasn't a new thing to me, it kind of came with the job. I couldn't remember a time when I hadn't been scared. So, right now being completely terrified out of my mind was the most natural feeling ever.

I could feel the tension in my back, my shoulder hurt from my stiff posture, and even though the room was plenty warm I was coiled as tight as Regil's hair on a good day. I kept my gaze trained on the blazing fire, its vibrant colour almost as unearthly and haunting as the carpet on the floor portraying the brutal death of some Faeri. I refused to look to where Anathema sat beside me. Her posture was confident and elegant, her knees crossed and her gaze taunting like all of the portraits in the hallway of this prison, she seemed utterly timeless.

I had only ever met Anathema on two other occasions, both of them I had been at the side of Sinum, and Anathema had been threatening to kill the entirety of the Patrons. I hadn't felt a bit scared then, but then I had been with Sinum and there was something about being around Sinum that made me feel not scared at all.

Not because he made me feel safe. When I was with Sinum we were always in the most dangerous scenarios, but because Sinum had always made me feel so much that there simply wasn't room for fear when I was busy trying to figure out all of that other stuff.

But this time, facing Anathema, I was completely alone. The worst part was, as much as I tried to convince myself that Sinum was going to come and save me, swoop in on his mare, sword flashing. I knew that he wasn't going to come. That no-one was.

While we waited for the food, Anathema went to put away the wooden box with the medicine in it, placing it inside a large cabinet in the corner of the room.

Even as she turned her back on me I didn't dare to move. My sword was hung at my side and it would only take one quick move to wield it. But it would take Anathema not even a second to enact the vow I had taken when I had entered this prison's threshold.

The vow that held me, hostage, in her elaborate prison of lies and promises.

I could feel my eyes drooping now as I stared at the fire. I wished more than ever that I was back at the palace, or even back in Joni's room with my sword at the ready while she slept. Constantly on guard. Being Malton's next heir had its perks, but it also had its downfalls. I didn't know how Joni managed to stay sane being watched and guarded non-stop from assassin attempts, and plots to de-throne Malton. I just about stayed sane being her bodyguard, and even I got holidays.

I felt the sofa shift suddenly and I jolted, the cut in my side flared up in pain. Anathema had taken her place next to me again. Her gaze was analytical and almost stern. "Be careful you don't tear your stitches."

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't know how to react to most things she said. I had never met anybody like Anathema before. With most people, I knew who I was to them, and how to act accordingly. But Anathema and I, before this day I had never even spoken to her. I was only Sinum's sidekick, and Anathema was only Malton's greatest threat, and right now I was sitting in her fortress, on her sofa waiting for Sinum and his posse to come to save me.

Sinum who was never going to come.

Anathema gave a wide delicate yawn, I couldn't tell whether she was being genuine or fake. "It's getting pretty late, let's hope your friends show up before I head to bed. I have an early start tomorrow. Evil never sleeps and all that."

I tried not to stiffen at the mention of Sinum. I kept my face blank, and by the time the food came and I reached for the bowl I tried to not groan as the move made my whole back ache. The food was some sort of soup, I couldn't make out any discernible ingredients, because the first thing that I noticed was that there was only one plate.

Anathema's servant, the same one that had led me into this room, handed me the singular bowl and I tried to keep my hands steady as I took it.

I was ravished, so unfortunately I was halfway through my first bite by the time I thought to check whether the food was poisoned, I must have been more tired than I thought. I swallowed the food, suddenly barely managing to keep it down. Anathema must have seen my face because she tilted her mouth as if she knew something I didn't and said "Is there something wrong with the food?"

My stomach made a noise of complaint and I hesitated.

"It's not poisoned if you were wondering." The fire was at her back so her whole face was shrouded in shadow. I could just make out the glint of her teeth and her amber eyes. On the other hand, I was facing the firelight so she could probably see my entire face and with the look, she was giving me could probably read me like a book.

"Right." I hefted another spoon of soup when my stomach complained again. I considered making a fuss and demanding that she try some of the soup herself if it wasn't poisoned, or even refusing to eat it altogether. But I never liked causing friction, and right now I wished I was anywhere else but here, so I ate the soup without any complaint.

That's not to say that eating it was a chore of any sort. It was delicious and warm and by the end of the bowl, I felt as if my insides were being unravelled and my head wasn't functioning anymore. I could feel myself slump against the sofa unwillingly and my eyes closed.

Even as I neared the bottom of the bowl, the mouthfuls were slower and slower to come as my movements became more sluggish and clumsy. The pain in my side was ever more prominent, as was the ache in my back and head. But most prominent of all was the watchful gaze of Anathema.

I refused to meet her eyes as I ate, and it was only when I felt myself sink into the sofa reluctantly as if my muscles simply gave up functioning, I glanced up at her. To my surprise she wasn't looking at me, but rather the haunting carpet with the brutally depicted murder, her expression was unreadable. But it was only for a moment and before I could discern the look in her eyes she turned to me.

"Did you enjoy it?"

I paused, trying to gain momentum to say something. "...Thank you."

Her face did something funny for a moment, kind of twisted into something unpleasant before smoothing back into something soft. "Your friends haven't arrived so I suppose you'll be spending the night. I have a bedroom prepared for you. I didn't plan on you using it this soon. But it's ready nonetheless." She stood up.

I placed the bowl and spoon on the table, it clattered ungracefully and I stood up shakily.

 Outside of the living room, the temperature had dropped considerably. I could feel goosebumps rise on my arms, and a small draft from the thin windowpanes made the subtle spider webs adorning the corridor ceiling sway gently as if carried some non-existent ghostly form.

Even though Anathema had mentioned the servants earlier, the only footsteps I could hear were mine and her's.

She led me to a door at the end of the hall, a sliver of light slid out from under the door lighting up the tiled floor. She opened the door, the handle sliding with ease. The room was lit by a single oil lamp on a polished wood bedside table. The bed was grand and large, as big as the beds I had seen in Malton's palace. Large lacy curtains were drawn over the windows, and the floor was bare and grey. There was a beautiful dressing table with a large mirror that shone silver, and an oak wardrobe that was taller than me, a large formidable shape in the corner.

"I hope you find the room satisfactory. There are clothes in the wardrobe should you wish for anything more appropriate or comfortable." Anathema said, jumping me from my thoughts. I glanced to where she was standing only a foot away from me holding the door open. She was too close.

I fought the clawing instinct back away and scratched the calloused skin on my index finger trying to suppress the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm me. "...Thank you."

Anathema's mouth did something akin to a smile. Only it looked more predatory as if she was about to devour me with one look. Her red lips were crooked with amusement, and her eyes bore into me uncomfortably. "I hope you sleep well." That was all she said before backing away.

I only stepped into the room when I could no longer hear her footsteps. I watched the lamp flicker and twist in its glass cage until her standing beside me was just a memory. A very distant one.

I closed the door shut behind me, quietly as if Anathema was about to jump out of the wardrobe should I make the slightest noise. There wasn't a lock, but I stared at the handle for a moment daring it to turn.

I looked around the room. I had grown up on a small farm somewhere north with Sinum. In a village called Fisi which bordered the mountains at the edge of Malton's domain. I had shared a small bedroom with my three sisters and brother. Up until five years ago when Sinum had become part of Malton's Patrons I had never seen any room like this or even a castle like this. I had only ever heard about them in books.

This room was grand, but it felt so big and empty. The bed took up half the room and although the sheets looked the softest I had ever seen, I could bring myself to lie down in it yet.

Instead, I walked over to the dressing table.

There were several bottles of perfume, powders, lip paint and a hairbrush. I opened the drawers and inside were more packets and bottles. I picked up one bottle of perfume and pressed the nozzle experimentally. A light mist spread across the desk and a pungent citrusy smell invaded my senses. I coughed and put it back down.

I went over to the wardrobe, standing in front of me it seemed almost twice as tall as me. It was dark and the surface smooth and glossy. I pulled the handle, it creaked loudly as I opened it. Inside were rows and rows of shirts, trousers, dresses, and coats. There were even some boxes of shoes.

I pulled out a grey dress, it would have come up to about my knees and had long sleeves. I walked over to the dressing table and held it up to me but the oil lamp was too dim and I couldn't make out anything bar my bruised face and pale shaking hands.

I put the dress down on the dressing table and dropped down on the floor beside it. Suppressing a sob, I held one hand to my mouth to try and quiet myself as the other grasped the dress in a tight fist.

I tasted salt on my lips, and tears tickled my cheeks. My shoulder shook and my mouth trembled incoherently.

All evening I had been trying to think about Sinum, Regil and Dei as little as possible. But now I suddenly couldn't stop. As the reality crashed down around me my shoulders shook and my boots squeaked on the polished floor as I tried to bring my knees to my chest.

This day seemed impossible. A day of impossible events. Not just Anathema, but if someone explained this entire situation with Sinum and the other Patrons I would have laughed in their face.

But now, as the fact that I was stuck here with Anathema for the rest of my life sunk in everything didn't seem to matter so much. I just wondered, the question boring into my head making my temples flare in pain. When had I gone wrong? When had I strayed from Sinum's path of greatness?

Had it started when I had decided to join the Patrons with Sinum?

Had I gone wrong when I had followed him to Elioum?

Or further back, had I been wrong when I had decided to leave Fisi, and join Sinum in his world searching?

Or had everything really gone wrong when I had killed an innocent man for the first time?

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Hey, what can I say. I'm a sucker for evil lesbian wives, and unresolved sexual tension. Oml

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-Be gay do crime.