For the first time in months, I awoke comfortably tucked in a bed. The simple, cotton sheets were soft and white, caressing my skin whenever I shifted. Yawning, I reached up to rub my eyes, but froze as the metallic clink of a chain drove all drowsiness from my mind. Feeling around my neck, I found an ornate leather collar, connected to a slender chain fastened to the bed. I lifted the chain and stared at it for a second. Didn't the hero free me? Feeling more than a little confused, I let the chain slip through my fingers and looked around the room.
From all appearances, my accommodations were some sort of guest chamber. The walls and ceiling were stark white, with a repeated sun pattern painted around the edges. A table and chair, made of darkly stained wood, provided the only other furniture. On one wall, a large window allowed a little sunlight to trickle through the drawn curtains. Everything felt clean and pure. Too clean.
I jumped as the door cracked open and an elderly woman poked her head in. She frowned softly as she met my wide-eyed gaze and swung the door shut. I heard a few metallic clicks before the door opened again, this time swinging into the room wide enough to allow a woman to enter. She was dressed in white robes similar to the Father from before, save hers were much plainer in cloth and cut. A wooden pendant carved with the image of a sun hung about her neck, weighing down her shoulders. Her skin was aged and wrinkled and her short gray hair was bound tightly in a bun. When she spoke, her voice was gentle, though not particularly kind.
"Awake, are we?" She asked, coming to my bedside.
I nodded, staring at her with wide eyes. "W-where am I?"
She snorted and smoothed a strand of gray hair behind her ear. "The fool brought you to the Radiant Throne, of all places. This is one of the guest rooms in the right wing. I'm a priestess here. You may call me Revera."
"I...I see. And this?" I asked, fingering the band of rough leather around my neck.
She stared at me, as though wondering how I could possibly ask something so stupid. When she finally deigned to answer, her voice dripped with vitriol. "The binding ceremony hasn't been completed yet, so naturally a slave can't be allowed to run around free."
I shrunk back before her condescending gaze, an uneasy tingle running down my tail. "S-so I'm still a slave?"
It was mostly rhetorical, more voicing my thoughts aloud, but Revera rolled her eyes and answered anyway. "Naturally. That's why the hero brought you back in the first place. Now, enough of that. Are you hungry?"
I nodded, unable to ignore the hunger clawing at my stomach. I blushed as, a second later, an audible grumble rolled around the room.
Wordlessly, Revera turned and left the room. She returned shortly after, carrying a thin wooden tray. My mouth watered at the sight of fresh bread and a small bowl of soup. After placing it on the table, the priestess stood back.
"Come, but be careful. You're weak, so eat slowly."
I slid my foot out of the sheets and touched the ground. The hardwood floor was cool to the touch, but infinitely better than the abrasive wood of the cage. My legs shook as I stood, nearly collapsing beneath my scrawny weight. As I lurched forward, the priestess grabbed my arm and helped me into the chair.
Thanking her, I grabbed the bread and tentatively nibbled on a corner. Delighted to find it soft, I tore into it and swallowed a chunk. The explosion of flavor took me by surprise, and my eyes widened. I quickly scarfed the bread down, barely chewing in between coughs. As I licked my fingers, the last few bites caught in my throat.
The priestess frowned as I began coughing. "Silly girl. Eat slowly!"
"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat with a final sputter, "I...I just couldn't help it. Is there, um, I mean, if it's not too much to ask, is there more?" I asked hopefully.
She rolled her eyes at my request and gestured to the tray. "Finish the soup. If you're still hungry then, I can arrange for something else."
The soup was incredibly delicious. The broth was thin and nearly flavorless, but I was delighted to try something that tasted like, well, anything. Chunks of meat and potato disappeared down my throat as soon as I dug them out with the spoon. Still, I recalled her admonition and slowed the pace, taking the time to relish every bite.
All too soon, the bowl was empty, and I lowered it to my lap. "Thank you," I said softly, bowing my head to the priestess.
She folded her arms and waggled an eyebrow. "Well?"
"I think that was enough," I admitted somewhat bashfully. I felt like I'd only eaten a few bites, yet a warm, comfortable pressure radiated out in my stomach. It had been so long since my last proper meal I'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to be full.
"Good. The hero is out for now, but I'll return when he returns to prepare you for the ceremony. Don't cause any trouble."
With that, the priestess took up the tray and left the room.
"Wait, I--oh...she's gone."
Standing slowly, I stumbled over to the bed. Hearing someone else's voice had been nice, even if she was a little prickly. The silence now felt oppressive. Lonely. At least Soltair would be back soon.
Anticipation stirred my heart as I recalled his glowing face and strong arms, encircling me as I fell. Being from my world, he would definitely free me, right?
But, even if he didn't, I resolved myself to stay close to him. He had saved my life and shown me kindness. For the first time in years, I was safe, fed, and had a warm bed. That was enough.
The time passed slowly, yet I luxuriated in it. Here, I could stretch out and think, finally free of that awful cage. There was much to ponder, so many changes I had to adjust to. To start with, I'd been able to understand every word since around the time I left the warehouse. It was difficult to explain, but I knew the people here were speaking one of the languages I hadn't understood before. Did it have something to do with that wondrous sensation that sustained me through Kaitlyn's beating? I shivered at the memory and touched my side, running my slender fingers over flawless, smooth skin. There was no sign a rib had ever ruptured my side.
The leash was long enough to reach most of the room, but I didn't have the strength or motivation to explore much. My body was weak and emaciated from the months of neglect and malnourishment, thin and bony without a single ounce of fat or any real muscle. I probably wouldn't have lasted much longer in the warehouse, even if Kaitlyn hadn't taken it upon herself to personally kill me. On the bright side, the church had given me a simple white dress. It looked around my size, yet it hung loosely on my shoulders and waist.
A few hours later, Revera returned. She marched into the room with the same, cold expression, arriving beside my bedside before I could so much as sit up.
"Can you stand?" She asked, voice clipped.
"I-I think so," I stammered. Tensing, I swung my lugs over the side of the bed and shifted my weight forward. My legs barely shook at all as I got to my feet, and I looked at her proudly, hoping for even a glint of approval.
There was none.
"Good," she remarked, "Now, let us be off. The ritual is ready."