In the vaults…
Aurelia hung from the cold, rough chains that bit into her wrists, the iron biting her skin with every tremor. The air was thick, heavy with the stench of rot and something older, fouler than death itself. She pressed her face to the stone wall, trying not to breathe too deeply.
Spider webs stretched across every corner, thick and gray, swaying slightly as if the vault itself breathed. Dust coated the walls, the floor, even her arms and hair, settling in layers over the blood and grime. Each movement sent tiny clouds into the air, making it feel heavier, suffocating.
Beside her, a skeleton leaned against the wall, still shackled—a silent, skeletal warning of the time spent here, of lives wasted in silence. Its empty eye sockets seemed to mock her, whispering of hopelessness.
The blood on her leg had already clotted, a dark, sticky crust that drew flies buzzing hungrily around her. Every small movement made them hum closer, and she swatted weakly at the air, helpless.
She could only crawl, dragging herself along the cold, uneven stone floor. Her leg throbbed with each pull, each tiny shift in weight ripping sharp pain through her body, stealing her breath. Standing was impossible. Even the smallest motion felt like punishment, a reminder that she was trapped.
Tears streamed down her face, carving grimy paths through the dust and dried blood smeared across her skin. She wished desperately for time to move faster, yet the minutes dragged, stretching into eternity, every second a weight pressing her down.
Then came the lord of all her pains: hunger and thirst.
Her stomach twisted, a vicious, gnawing pain that felt as if claws were scraping along the walls of her insides. Each breath only made it worse, hollow and rasping, tasting the rot and dust that clung to the vault. Her throat burned, dry and tight, a desperate crack in the silence. She licked her lips, but they only stuck to each other.
Crawling became slower, every movement a torment. She reached toward the damp stone floor, searching for a drop of water, a crumb—anything—but the vault offered nothing but shadow and stench. The flies buzzed in mocking circles, indifferent to her suffering.
Every pulse of pain from her leg screamed louder than her growling stomach.
Hunger, thirst, and pain—three lords, ruling her body with iron hands.
Time had passed—it was afternoon.
The sun outside struck the estate walls, oblivious to the suffering inside the vault, yet Aurelia remained pressed against the cold stone floor. She did not move.
Her limbs ached, her leg burned, and her stomach clawed at itself. All she could do was pray—for freedom, for water, for any small mercy at all.
Starvation was a new master, ruthless and unyielding. She had not been raised to endure all of this.
Though her father was not a mayor or a king, she always felt comfort, warmth, the soft security of a life uninterrupted. She was free.
Memories surfaced like shards of light in the darkness.
Her family—her brother, her mother, her father—her perfect life, now a cruel mirage.
She remembered running through fields that seemed endless, the wind tearing through her hair, and the playful battles at the dining table with Gaius. He had always challenged her, pushed her to believe she could fight anything, that she could do anything.
But now, lying here, her leg throbbing, hunger gnawing at her bones, she wondered if it had ever been true. Could she really conquer the world—or had Gaius only been giving her courage to face a world that would always consume her?
A tear traced down her cheek. Was I ever free?
she whispered to the silent walls. Or was it only an illusion, a fleeting shadow before the chains found me?
Aurelia heard the heavy gate creak open, the sound echoing through the vault, but her body was too weak to respond. She remained pressed against the cold, damp floor, every movement sending sharp pulses of pain through her leg.
"Forgive me, my lady… I couldn't get it earlier," Felicia's voice trembled as it cut through the silence.
"This… this is all I could bring."
Aurelia's eyes fluttered open. She saw the small offering in Felicia's hands: a meager loaf of bread, a tin of water. Her chest heaved with a mix of relief and desperation. Every morsel seemed like a lifeline, yet the distance between them felt impossible.
With effort, she forced herself to crawl, dragging her battered body inch by agonizing inch. Her fingers scraped the stone, her leg protesting with every movement, bloodied and throbbing.
The smell of bread and water gave her strength. She reached out, trembling, for anything that could promise a fleeting sense of survival.
Finally, her hands closed around the food. She pressed it to her chest, drawing in ragged breaths, her tears mingling with the grime on her face.
She didn't wait. Hunger clawed at her stomach with merciless urgency. She tore into the bread, biting with frantic desperation, crumbs falling onto the cold stone beneath her. Water followed, sloshing over her parched lips as she drank with shaky, greedy gulps.
Each bite was both relief and pain, reminding her how long she had been starved, how fragile her body had become.
"Thank you," Aurelia said, her voice hoarse, each word dragging from her dry throat.
Felicia bowed quickly, almost slipping away.
"Why… why are you helping me?" Aurelia asked, crumbs of bread still clinging to her lips.
Felicia paused, glancing back with a nervous flicker in her eyes. "I… I see a great queen in you. Maybe… Tenebrarum's wife," she murmured before retreating.
Wife.
The word hit Aurelia like a blade. She hated it. Every fiber of her being recoiled, a surge of anger and defiance rippling through her chest. She would never be his. Not by fate, not by fear, not by the twisted chains of this dark world.
Her eyes narrowed, resolve hardening.
I can never belong to him.
I will make him pay for every second of this torment.
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To be continued...