The Unfortunate, стр. 61

The voice was too distant to be recognizable, but the gentleness of the tone was suggestive of someone who would help her escape.

The voice called again, this time slightly more audible, and the tone was even louder on the third occasion.

Without bothering to answer, Jenn did not hesitate to stand and resume following the corridors.

“Jenniver.”

The voice sounded closer, and she quickened her pace.

“Jenniver.”

She had to find the individual, had to escape. And with another turn and another, she followed the voice until she at last briefly saw a shadow before it disappeared into the darkness. With fears and doubts returning, Jenn crept forward, and when she reached the junction of the passageway she, at the same, cautiously peaked around the wall. There was no individual, not even a shade, but what she did see was almost as comforting. A door. Her heart fluttered, and she rushed toward it, gripped the handle, and pushed. But when the door opened, Jenn was overcome with a new sensation as she stared at a cavernous abyss. There was nothing before her—no walkway, no ruins of one that had existed, nothing. Then, accompanied by distant rumbles of thunder, the winds intensified, and the young woman instinctively reached for the walls to maintain balance. But when she did, the dagger slipped from her grasp and fell into the sprawling cavern. Then the intensifying winds altered and poured into the corridor, extinguished all the torches, and forced the door to close.

Darkness.

Jenn could still hear the thunder and wind, but she could see nothing.

She was once again alone. All she could think about was the shadow, but her opinions had since changed. She was no longer as certain about her safety and even less so when she saw the light of a torch. It should have been a relief and had been initially, but then the individual spoke.

“There you are.” The gravelly tone was unmistakable. It was the guard whose desires never ceased, and he hurried toward Jenn, causing her to back against the door. “I have been looking for you,” he added with a smile which revealed several rotten teeth.

The handmaiden immediately turned her head to avoid smelling the guard’s breath that was heavy with the stench of ale, but it did no good. “Get away from me!” she yelled.

But the guard ignored her, tossed the torch aside, and reached for her shoulders. Momentarily, except for occasional rumbles of thunder and the muffled howling of wind, the atmosphere was tranquil, and the man continued to gaze at the young women as he caressed her cheek.

“What do you want?”

Rather than answer, however, the guard moved his hands back to the handmaiden’s shoulders and beginning at the neckline, ripped the front of the garment in short intervals until it had been torn down to her waist.

“STOP!”

The man did not answer immediately, for he was gazing at and caressing her exposed body, but he eventually huffed, “Fine. Right to it, eh?”

Numerous thoughts raced through Jenn’s mind—among them, the horror of what was to come and what she could do to escape. Everything she considered was futile except one, opening the door. Yes, it would be her death. She would fall into the cavernous abyss, but she would be sure to take the guard with her. She reached for the handle and was prepared to turn but before she could, the guard grabbed her waist, moved her away from the door, and forced her to face the wall.

“This will not take long,” he whispered in an assuring manner and slowly lifted her dress.

“NO! LEAVE ME ALONE! NO!” But the pleas had no effect, and Jenn was no longer able to control her sobs as she felt the guard’s rough hands moving up her legs and eventually along her thighs.

He then pushed her against the cold stones and boasted, “I have been waiting for this moment much too long, and since you will not give me what I desire, I shall take it!”

“STOP!” Her voice was still a scream, but the once fierce tone slowly dwindled. “Stop. Please.” And it was reduced to measly whimpers as she felt the guard’s body thrusting against her own.

✽ ✽ ✽

The handmaiden awoke with a racing pulse and a clammy brow, and she could feel her clothing was plastered to her skin. She felt for torn fabric, for any indication of the guard’s violation, but there was none. It had been only a dream and nothing more. Only a dream. She used her sleeve to wipe her brow, brushing aside her damp bangs, and she gently tugged at her dress to loosen the fabric from her skin before pushing herself up and into a sitting position. All her senses indicated her terror was no more, but then she heard a woman’s scream, and a new realization occurred. Queen Marlisa!

Jenn hurried from the servants’ residence, through the corridors, and to the queen’s chamber. Having arrived and discovering the door open and the room vacant, she remained still, not certain if she should further pursue the source. But then more distant than before, she heard crazed laughter, screams, and eventually the warning bell.

During her time in Armania’s capital, or at least what she could remember, Jenn had heard the bell on numerous occasions, and all of them had been preludes to ill tidings. An escaped prisoner, an intruder, a murder, and even as serious as an approaching raid. Jenn expected this time to be no different, but despite the uncertainty and possible danger, not to mention being aware that she should remain inside the castle, she rushed to the gatehouse and saw several guards shooing a throng of onlookers.

“Away! Be gone!” they yelled as they attempted to clear the courtyard’s center.

Once the crowd had dispersed, she was able to see what had caused the sudden hysteria. A guard had been slain, but it was not any guard. It was the man whose relentless desires had haunted Jenn and her dreams for