Promises of Glory

“I’m not one for the little things in life every seems to enjoy, I prefer the big things, the extravagant things, the things larger than life itself.”

-Holly Black, the Lady of Bridgefork

The cool metal graced her hand, she ran for the bedroom, taking large steps as she ran. She was swift, using the full extent of her meager Fae abilities to get her to her room. Her room was far from the ballroom and even farther from the cellar, she would have to be swift, or fear facing her grandmother.

She stroked the key, knowing the prayer that she had offered up to the gods she didn’t believe in likely fell on deaf ears.

The door to Rhode’s room approached, when she reached it she tossed it open. Her hands were under her bed in an instant, searching around for the makeshift bag she had hidden there just moments before the ball. It contained mostly food, as she suspected it was probably spring or summer in the human realms, no need for extra clothes.

She reached for the knife she kept under her pillow. A steak knife to ward off any intruders, though it did no good in the land of Fae and their ability to wield magic. She gripped it firmly, apologized to her dress, and cut the bottom inches off of it. Rhode used the long stips of fabric to tie the bag to her back. It felt familiar on her back, like the bag she used to carry around when she was a thief, an assassin for hire.

Next Rhode tied her sheets together, making a rope to glide down to the ground level. Once on the ground, she slapped her rope burned hands on her dress, hoping the tingling sensation would dissipate.

She soon got to the cellar doors, Rhode threw open the doors and raced down the steps. Almost tripping a few times.

The racks of things all ran together, a blur as she moved. In her hurry, she passed the iron door. Rhode doubled back and gripped the handle.

The key slid in easily. She muttered the words her grandmother had said under her breath. Jiggling the knob, it didn’t even flinch. Rhode spoke more confidently, asserting the words as she turned the key. The door creaked open.

And there, not even behind bars, was a woman in chains.

She had sultry, dark orange eyes, like the color of fallen autumn leaves that had yet to rot. Her burnt blonde hair suited the pale skin. Her brown jacket bulged at her large endowment. This was a woman that Rhode would fight for man’s attention with; and if she wasn’t careful, she might find herself fighting to keep her eyes to herself. The dirt caked onto her face was easy to ignore when below that was a beautiful woman in every meaning of the word.

The chains that held the woman’s wrists rattled. Rhode crouched down, coming eye level with the woman. Rhode’s voice boomed in the quiet of the room, “What’s your name?” She wouldn’t have asked if it was her from before she met Livinus. She wouldn’t have cared. She sat down, to keep herself from fidgeting.

Her voice was a rasp, barely audible. “Elwyn.”

“What’d you do to get in this state?” Like it was her choice.

The woman pulled on the chains, huffing out, “I stole from Alys.” The woman eyed Rhode, taking in the sight of her. Rhode wanted to cover herself, hide behind her hands, praying that the same stark differences between her and her grandmother was still obvious now. “Who are you?”

“Rhode Corvo.” Her thumbs twirled in her lap.

“That’s a fancy dress.”

“What’d you steal?”

“Bread from her table.” A lie.

“Is that all?”

Elwyn laughed heartily. “You smell like a human, but not quite. Are you the product of the unholy union of a human and a Fae?”

She didn’t blink, “Yes.” There was bound to prejudice. If this woman wanted to be freed, she wouldn’t want her savior to be a Fae hybrid.

The smirk made the woman look powerful despite her situation, “That explains why you just don’t understand the severity of my crime. Stealing from a Fae is a pretty big deal. A thief is branded for life.”

She saw it then, the brand upon the woman’s neck. A circle of scarred tissue with a jagged line down the middle. The mark of a thief, it seems, is a nasty one. Rhode did her best to put on a bored expression. “Do I look like I care?”

Her brows furrowed, “I don’t need that attitude, I am stuck down here. Stuck! And the last thing I need is some smart ass answer.”

Rhode blinked, taken aback by the sudden ferocity. Tilting her head, she delicately said, “I did not mean to offend. I would never thoughtlessly say rude things, thoughtlessly harm, like Alys.”

The mood in Elwyn suddenly shifted, her eyebrows drawn up. She chuckled, shaking her head, “At least you understand that, for a stupid half breed.”

Rhode stood up, patting off her legs of any dust that may have gotten onto her silky smooth dress. Her fingers fidgeted by her sides. She worried about how much time she had left.

The woman immediately startled, “Where are you going?”

“You may not take attitude, but I do not take insults. Not from anyone.” Her mind supplied the only exception, which she did not speak. He was her weakness and she was not fond of revealing such sore spots. “I will be taking my leave now, please excuse my poor attitude.” Rhode turned on her heel, taking steps towards the door. The iron door was just a moment before her when the chains of the prisoner started rattling.

“Wait.”

Rhode tilted her head, stopping, not bothering to turn back to Elwyn.

“I said wait. I’m sorry. Please, get me out of this.”

“Will you come with me?” She asked.

“Where?”

“Does it matter?” An eyebrow raised.

A laugh, haughty and unafraid. “I guess not.”

“Will you swear to follow me?”

“What are you, a queen?”

Rhode turned around finally, looking down at the woman but not looking down on her. A large smile on her lips, “No, but I will be.”