I'd like to say It gets better....

Adeline's POV 

The Next Day... 

I found it to be of no use in screaming, or hollering, even when I was first put into my well-used cell. Who was going to save me after all? I had no family now, no husband or best friend. My true love was being restrained; his life being risked with every decision he made on top of having every movement be monitored like a hawk. 

I sat in the fetal position, covered in the dry blood of the 2 dozen bodies I had to dig through to get to my parents; or at least what was left of them. The way they looked was beyond just an execution for resisting. It was brutality on behalf of my husband. There was no doubt in my mind. I rested my chin upon my crossed forearms that were supported across my raised knees. 

My butt was being poked by the pile of straw I was to now call my bed, but it was the only spot that could be considered remotely comfortable. My back was against the damp, cold wall, and numerous stains sat untouched upon the walls and floor; covering nearly every inch of my cell. I didn't want to think about what each stain could be; none would have come from anything good. 

The only thing echoing within the corridors were the simple shuffles of the other prisoners, and the occasional cough. Though not to mention the drips from condensation forming. There were no windows at all; it was obvious we were underground. 

The smell, however, was pungent, and I wanted to vomit, though I held back the best I could. 

It was only a matter of time before I would become oblivious to the stench and becoming a part of it just the same. 

The cell across from me was the only one I could see into clearly, and it made me start to think that the Kingdom had no intention of treating us too well in the slightest. The person appeared as if they hadn't had any substance in days, and they were a walking skeleton. 

Perhaps they were already dead? I thought to myself; the unfortunate soul was standing in the middle of their tiny space, refusing to move a muscle. Even their eyelids. 

I couldn't tell if the person was a woman or man; all I saw were bones. They had since removed their clothes; whether it be from stains or simply not fitting anymore, and their hair was long, down past to their butt, but heavily matted. 

I hid my face in the pit of my arms. The royals didn't light the corridors to comfort us, they did it to be sure we were miserable for the remaining span of our lives; which didn't seem like it would be more than a month by the way the conditions were. 

Then I felt a chain move about underneath my dress. 

Gregory's chain of service. 

I quickly stood up, taking it off of me before walking up to the cell bars in an attempt to look down the hall. The torches upon the windowless hall flickered slightly, making random shadow figures dance upon the walls and ground. 

"Hello?" I said, my voice carrying as if I had yelled, though no one responded. I called out again, but a bit louder. 

After a few more calls, I finally heard the angry steps of a guard quickly approaching. 

"Who dares speak!?" His voice was deep and slurred, but he was heading right for me. 

"I need to return something!" I replied, my heart beating from fear. 

"Oh, why if it isn't the prince's whore and the guardsman's toy!" He grinned at me evilly as he reached my cell. 

I ignored his taunts, shoving the chain at him. "I know I'm not owed anything," I began, the guard laughing as I spoke. "But can you at least give this to the prince. Tell him goodbye, please." 

The man got quiet, squinting at me as he wobbled drunkenly before ripping the chain from my hands. "I'll be confiscating that, a whore like you shouldn't have items of class." 

With it dangling from his fingers, he headed back down the hall, his steps fading as he did. 

"You don't look 22," I heard a frail voice chime. I looked at the cell across from me, the naked figure having joined me at the bars. The person was a young woman, who's breasts had since shrunk to be similar to that of a man's from starvation. My heart ached for her, but at least she wasn't dead, I suppose. But would death be easier? 

"I'm not," I somberly replied, "I'm only 19. I had just wed, actually." 

She coughed softly, a splash of blood covering her lips like makeup. She wiped it with the back of her arm, "I was married too, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get pregnant." She wasn't crying, but her voice was. The agony was screaming. "So, my husband left me for another woman and had 3 children, while I turned 22 on my way here; in chains." 

"I'm so sorry," I didn't know how else to ask, "how long have you been here?" 

"I've lost track. Though I do recall my birthday being a few days ago. They said I was 23." She smiled, "I'd like to say it gets better, but it doesn't. As long as you listen to whatever they tell you to do; when to eat, when to sleep, what to eat....if they want sex... you will live; albeit barely, though you get extras. The only reason I choose to live is because I have hope things will change." She chuffed, "I know it sounds odd, I mean look at me. I'm afraid to move most times thinking my legs will snap; but the Kingdom wasn't always like this, you know that much. The royal family has been cursed. But one day, hopefully in my life, it'll be cured; I always wish that my next experience in life will be knowing what the stones on the other side of my bars feel like against my feet." 

"We will get out of here," I feebly encouraged her. 

The woman chuckled, "keep that with you no matter what. The moment you don't, will be the moment you lose yourself. 

As she finished, before I could even attempt to keep talking, a long screech pierced the corridors; the type you only hear in nightmares. 

"Don't fight," she whispered, before painfully making her way to her own straw bed, though I noticed she had a blanket and pillow, unlike mine. 

I remained at the bars, trying my best to see who was approaching, before I saw black metal glistening in the torchlight as a small group of 3 guards approached my cell hastily; As I assumed they would. 

"You are ordered to come with us, fodder," the guard at the front ordered me through the bars, his voice thunderous despite me being mere inches from his face. He then backed up as the other 2 approached my cell door, opening it and forcibly dragging me out; one for each arm. 

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded, as if I had any leverage. 

"To do your job, of course," the main one snickered as he took the lead once more. "You're fresh, so they want you upon the table." He peered at me over his shoulder as we walked, licking his lips. 

My brow scrunched in confusion, "upon the table?" 

"The king loves to bring the beautiful fodder to the dining room so we can drink directly from the source." The Guard stopped suddenly, twisting around to face us, the guards carrying me nearly bumping into him. He grabbed the bottom of my jaw before lifting my head. He then lowered his face to my neck, gliding his lips against it as I felt him smell me. "Luckily for you I can't right now," he snapped, "but nothing's stopping me from..." he took his free hand and began to move one of my sleeves off my shoulder. I quickly jolted a few times to get his hand away from me. "I like my food spicy," he laughed. "I'm curious to how you taste; as irresistible as our weak prince seems to make you out to be, I hope? My expectations are quite high." 

I managed to spit at him despite his tight grip on my face. He backed away, baring his fangs at me as he wiped it away. 

I guess I do have some leverage after all. "Will the prince be there?" 

He glared at me, "Of course, and the prince is in charge of doing the honors of first drink." He beckoned for my carriers to continue following him, jerking me forward once more with an intense grip; my arms and hands cold from lack of blood flow. 

They're just using me to torture him...