Young Writers Society

It was like her worst nightmare come true. Rana stared at the bloody dagger he held out to her, horrified by the prospect. She lifted her chin, unwilling to dignify his suggestion with a response. There wasn’t a chance she was going to take part in his gruesome game.

“Go on then, take it,” Synakrein said, standing just in front of her.

Rana shook her head.

“I command you to take this dagger from me,” Synakrein said, narrowing his eyes.

“No.”

Suddenly a frigid wrath filled his eyes. He lifted his left hand and brought it down swiftly upon her cheek, making her fall to the cold floor. She’d been right — his fist did hurt much worse than Father’s. Before she could stand, he clamped his bloody fingers down around her wrist and hauled her to her feet.

“No one tells me no,” he snarled as he threw the knife on the table and dragged her out of the room. She stumbled after his swift pace as he yanked her down the hallway. Rather than turn towards the right, to exit the dungeon, he took her towards the cells on the left.

“Let go of me!” Rana snarled, yanking on her arm in an attempt to jerk free of him.

“Not going to happen,” he answered coldly. “Unlike you, I am a prince, which means that I don’t have to obey the commands of anyone — and certainly not the demands of the nothing daughter of a nothing lord.”

“Take your hands off me!” Rana screamed, slamming her other fist into his hard chest.

“Gladly.” Prince Synakrein grabbed the wrist of her free hand, then swiftly pushed her backwards. Rana tripped and fell backward, slamming her head into the cold stone floor. She sat up with a grimace, rubbing her head. The guards were upon her in a moment.

Before she understood what was happening, they clamped heavy iron shackles around each wrist. She sprang to her feet as the guards stepped back into the hall. She stormed forward angrily, stopping suddenly as the chains yanked against her arms.

“This is an outrage!”

“I don’t care,” Synakrein answered, standing just outside of her arm’s reach.

“Do you really think this is the way towards convincing me to accept a marriage proposal?” Rana snarled, gesturing at the cuff around her wrist.

“Do you really think that I’m stupid enough to believe that you have any say at all in that decision?” Synakrein asked condescendingly. He leaned forward and patted her cheek. “You and I both know that your dear papa is the one deciding that.”

“And you think he’ll decide in your favor if I tell him you’ve thrown me in the dungeon?”

“Well you can’t very well tell him if I don’t let you out, now can you?”

“You don’t think he’ll be suspicious when I suddenly vanish?”

“Let me think about that,” Synakrein said smugly, putting his hand on his chin in faux contemplation. “Mm, no. Tell me, how much time have you actually spent with him these past few days? How many meals have you shared in my absence?”

Rana felt like there was the weight of a boulder bearing down on her stomach. She’d never felt so powerless before. Typically, she was the one who was always one step ahead, always thinking of something before it occurred to everyone else. Not now. It seemed like Synakrein had thought of every argument she could raise and had a counter argument for each.

“You’ll have to let me out eventually,” Rana said.

“Sure,” Synakrein said carelessly. “I mean I could throw your father in here as well — at this point I suspect he’d merely compliment me on the quality of my dungeons if I did. But that would reduce the chances of an Algnesian alliance...hm, decisions, decisions.”

“You have no right to keep me here.”

“Kind of like how you have no right to disobey a direct order?” Synakrein challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Now you must decide, would you like to spend one night in the dungeons, or a lifetime?”

Synakrein pulled the door shut then turned on his heel and briskly strode down the hall, both guards in his wake. Rana stared after them helplessly. Suddenly a wave of anger washed across her and she began to scream at the top of her lungs. “LET ME OUT! YOU MONSTER!”

She heard the gate latch loudly behind them. Her words devolved into shrieks. She screamed and screamed, tugging at her chains until she’d gone as far as she could. She screamed for the anger, for the fear, and most of all for the dread that filled her entire body.

After several long minutes, her chest was heaving for breath and her throat felt raw. She let her shoulders slump, exhausted and frustrated. She walked back towards the wall, resting her forehead against the cold, slimy stone. She closed her eyes, a shuddering breath escaping her lips and making her tremble.

She pressed her back against the wall and sank to the ground, hugging her knees close to her chest. She buried her face in her skirts and sobbed. She felt so hopeless, so alone. It was hard to say how long it would take Father to even notice she was missing, and she doubted he would do anything about it even when he did.

She was on her own. In a country nearly a week’s ride from home. Alone. In a dungeon. She felt a loneliness like nothing else she’d ever experienced in her life. Typically, there was always Jae or Itani or Aldik that she could turn to. Here she had no one. No one to help her fight against the royal brute.

Rana continued crying for a long while. Eventually, her sobs quieted to sniffles, then ended altogether. She forced herself to breathe deeply, trying to clamp on to a rational thought. Her mind was filled with anger, and hate, and utter horror at what she’d seen Synakrein do to the poor man on the table.

She couldn’t imagine living in a country where the citizens were treated worse than animals. She wouldn’t let him get away with this atrocious behavior; she couldn’t. There was no chance she’d be able to live with herself, knowing this kind of injustice was happening. She didn’t care that he was only a peasant — he still didn’t deserve this kind of treatment.

The hours that followed passed slower than any others she’d experienced in her life. There were no windows anywhere in the dungeon. The only sense she had of the time was the little sunlight that filtered in through the gate to the outside, but even that was just out of her sight.

No. You can’t let him win, Rana thought, sniffing and wiping the tears from her face. He wants to hurt you. Don’t let him see that he’s succeeding. You’re fine. You’re stronger than this.

She took a deep breath and looked at the chains around her wrists. There was a small area of space between her wrists and the cold metal, but they still felt restrictive. She grabbed the cuff around her right wrist with her left, then tried to pull her hand free.

The cuff moved up and caught on the heel of her palm. She yanked on her arm, but all it did was dig the cold metal into her hand. She tried to make her hand smaller, scrunching her fingers close together as she yanked on her arm again.

She worked on the cuffs for many long minutes, until the sunlight dwindled and faded entirely. The darkness of the dungeon at night was even colder and more ominous than before. The torches did little to light the area, and absolutely nothing to warm the bone-chilling cold in the air.

Her wrists were sore. She tilted them towards the light and grimaced to find them coated in a layer of crimson. She saw that her wrists were rubbed raw, and blood was trickling out and drying on her forearms and palms. She yanked once more, screaming in frustration when the shackles didn’t move.

You can’t do it, she thought, looking down at her hands hopelessly. No matter which angle she tried, or how hard she pulled, the shackles remained in place. Rana threw her head back, resting it against the slimy wall. She looked at the iron bars across the room. And even if you do, there’s no getting past those.

She closed her eyes, swallowing past the lump that formed her in her throat. Her eyes burned, though from frustration or pain she wasn’t sure. Her wrists felt like they were on fire. But worse yet, she felt a sense of worthlessness settling into the pit of her stomach.

She felt so weak, so useless. Not only did she not have any control over where she went, or what she did, or what she wore — now she couldn’t even manage to escape from this monster. He was right — no matter what she did, or what she said, Father wouldn’t believe her. Synakrein could do whatever he wanted to, and he’d get away with it.

She couldn’t sleep. She sat all night with her eyes closed, knees pulled up to her chest, beating herself up over and over and over again for getting caught in this situation in the first place. If only she’d feinted sick the night of the ball. If only she’d lied better when he questioned her. If only she’d managed to attract a decent prince’s attention, before she’d attracted Synakrein’s.

Rana didn’t even notice when light began spilling into the dungeon again the next morning. By the time she noticed the light, the sun was streaming through the gate in full strength. She was beyond exhausted. Her body was weak and trembled when she tried to move.

Hunger was gnawing on her stomach, making her feel nauseated. She couldn’t remember how long it’d been since she ate last, but she knew it’d been too long. Her skirts were damp and stuck to her legs, her wrists tender and sore. Her bladder was full and making her uncomfortable, but the only option to relieve herself was a bucket in the corner and she’d not sank to those depths of indignity.

It was late afternoon by the time anyone entered the dungeon. She opened her eyes weakly, listening as the heavy footsteps approached her cell. She clenched her fists and her teeth as her eyes locked on Synakrein’s. Her head throbbed from the lack of sleep, eyes grainy and sore.

“Had a bit of time to think about your poor decisions?” Synakrein asked.

Rana licked her lips, trying to wet the dry, cracking skin. But her tongue felt just as pasty as the rest of her mouth, dehydration taking its toll. She didn’t have the energy left to be angry anymore. “What do you want from me?”

“Obedience.” He unlocked her cell door and strode inside. He squatted down in front of her, bringing himself to her eye-level. His pandering was almost as terrifying as his looming. “Which you will give to me, whether you like it or not.”

Rana was silent as she stared at him. She wasn’t going to obey him, no matter what he did. She didn’t know what type of woman he was used to bullying, but she was certain it wasn’t one that had the strength of her will. It would take more than an overgrown bully to break her spirit. Father had already tried.

Still, she didn’t want to test his patience. He was uncomfortably close to her, and she didn’t want to take a chance of angering him while she was still shackled in his dungeon. He stared at her for an uncomfortably long moment with his piercing blue eyes, then his gaze flicked to her wrists. He smirked.

“A little too stubborn for your own good, eh?” he mused. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked one of the cuffs, then took her hand and looked it over. He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Not a wise move, was it? Causing yourself needless pain in a desperate act of rebellion.”

She pulled her hand away from him with a glare. He laughed, the malice in his voice chilling the room even further. Rana swallowed hard and looked down at her free hand. Her wrist was rubbed completely raw everywhere the cuff touched. Even the back of her wrist was red and puffy, scarlet scabs already forming over the tender flesh.

Synakrein unlocked her other cuff, then swiftly grabbed her elbow and hauled her to her feet. She stumbled backward, falling against the wall behind her. She cradled her arms against her chest protectively, body trembling with the sudden change of position.

“Come now. Just obey, and this will all be over.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

Synakrein’s brow darkened. He stepped even closer and reached his hand forward. Rana flinched, turning her head to the side and screwing her eyes shut tight. His fingers brushed her cheek ever so gently, as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She tentatively opened her eyes to see his smirk.

“Sure seems like you’re scared of me.”