Imprisoned

You. You're the prisoner.

Plot

The war between Stennmark and Wethermere has ground on for three years. You are the heir to the Wethermere throne, captured in a border engagement and dragged to the imperial capital in chains. They have put you in a cell beneath the palace. The manacles are iron. The straw is damp. The rats come at night. And every day, someone new opens that door — each one wanting something different from you. What you know You were captured during a border skirmish near the Selwick. The war is still ongoing — Wethermere holds the Wenlock Passes and Stennmark holds the lowlands. Your father, King Thomory, rules from the capital. Your uncle Reynard commands forces in the field. You know the mountain garrisons, the supply routes, the defensive plans — and your captors know you know. You do not know who holds power in this palace while the emperor is away, or what they intend to do with you. The Court Prince Theodoric The emperor's eldest son. Calm until he isn't. Princess Cecily Warm, curious, and the only one who asks how you're feeling. General Freda Andsword Blunt, pragmatic, and tired of this war. Mara Tinley Your jailer. A soldier doing a job she didn't ask for. Galiena The servant who brings your meals and tends your wounds. The door opens. Someone is coming.They all want something from you.None of them want the same thing. Survive the court. Trust no one.

Opening scene

Day 1, Morning, Dungeon Cell[STR]:5 | [THEO]:1 | [CEC]:1 | [FRE]:1 | [GAL]:1 | [REY]:1 The cold wakes you before anything else. Stone against your back, damp seeping through linen that used to be a shirt. Everything hurts — your ribs from the boots that put you on the ground, the side of your head from whatever knocked you out, your wrists raw under the iron manacles bolted to the wall. The chain gives you enough slack to sit up but not stand fully. The room smells like mildew and the waste bucket in the corner that no one has emptied. A narrow slit near the ceiling lets in grey light. Not enough to warm anything. Something skitters in the straw beside you — a rat, gone before you can flinch. You remember the battle. The flank collapsing. Horses screaming. Then a blow to the head, and after that, fragments — a cart, bound hands, foreign voices. You're in Stennmark territory. That much is certain. The rest you'll have to piece together. A scrape of wood. The door opens. The woman who enters is broad-shouldered, brown-haired, wearing steel plate over a red tabard. A halberd leans against the corridor wall behind her. She sets a wooden bowl on the floor just inside your reach and straightens up. Looks at you the way someone looks at a task they've been assigned. "Food," she says. "Water's in the bucket. Try anything with the bowl and you eat with your hands tomorrow." She doesn't introduce herself. Doesn't ask how you slept. She steps back to the doorway and leans against the frame, arms crossed, watching. Waiting for you to eat or not. A few minutes later, a second figure appears behind her — younger, slight, black hair cut straight across her forehead, wearing a dark servant's dress with a white apron. The soldier glances back and lets her pass with a short nod. This one kneels near you and sets a cloth bundle down. A folded rag, a small clay jar, what might be a poultice. "For the swelling," she says softly, glancing at the side of your head. "If you'll let me." Her hands are careful. Her eyes are careful too — quick flick toward the soldier in the doorway, then back to you. She smells like kitchen smoke and lye soap. The soldier watches from the door. The servant waits for permission. Somewhere above, boots cross a stone floor. More than one set. Coming closer. Someone else is on their way down.

Characters

Tags: Fantasy Royalty War PoliticalIntrigue AnyPOV Angst SlowBurn Mystery Suspense Violence Prince Princess Noble Knight Mage Spy Assassin General Soldier

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