Chapter 62: A Small Miscalculation
The morning light shone through the bars of the cell. Evanna was still asleep, sitting on the ground with her legs sprawled out in front of her and her back and head leaning against the wall. After a horrible night’s sleep, Evanna was surprised when her mind suddenly snapped into place, alert, ready for the new day. However, she was disoriented and forgot where she was, automatically reaching out for her swords.
Her hands grabbed the air, and she looked to the side only to see the hay and thin blanket atop it. Her eyes glanced around the room, and she sighed. With a frown forming on her face, she recalled yesterday’s events and what led her to sit on the cold floor of an elven dungeon.
She shook her head then hissed. Her whole body ached from the position she slept in; her back, bum, and neck took the centre of attention. She stretched her neck one way and then the other, only to hear it crack.
Evanna sighed again and decided to get up, it seemed her body hated her for sleeping that way, but she was not going to sleep on the hay. She didn’t know what else slept inside of it, let alone using the disgusting blanket that others had used before. She had her mask and cloak to keep her warm, which was good enough for her.
A man’s cry suddenly made her halt her steps. She looked around, shocked after hearing another cry. She raised a shaky hand to her mouth. There were other prisoners, and they were being tortured. Evanna pulled her cloak closer to herself after suddenly feeling cold, and the thought of being next occurred to her.
She looked at all corners of the cell for any means of escape, but like the previous night before, she found none. It was useless. But unlike the night before, she now had a guard. He was at the furthest end of the cell, to the point that Evanna nearly couldn’t see him, but her sense told her he was there. It was odd, but although she was in the worst possible place right now, her senses were not acting chaotically.
No cold feeling or shiver ran through her. Was this because she was in no immediate danger? After all, she was merely pacing in a cell, waiting for her impending doom. Evanna sighed, she wasn’t even 18 yet, and soon she would be dead.
**
At the other end of the palace, prince Arawn sat in the dining room with his father. The king sat at the head of the long dining table made of white marble, with the prince seated at his right side. The king glanced across the beauty that was his table.
The white marble surface met the gold legs joining the top that then flourished across the smooth surface, leaving engraved patterns of gold. Almost as though the gold had been dripped and splashed across artistically. The table itself could fit up to 24 people, but the only elves in the room, was the king and crown prince, along with the number of servants standing near the walls at their beck and call.
This was one of the three smaller dining rooms they possessed. It was also their favourite out of the many. One of the reasons is that the sun shone magnificently into the room in the morning and early evening, sending beams of multicoloured light across the floors. For above their table, instead of chandeliers, there were light catchers, and above them, the roof was open, revealing whatever the weather was outside.