From her vantage point on the floor, she looked up through her one good eye at the Consort Mother. There was no energy left to bow or speak, so she just sat staring. The Consort Mother was a beautiful woman with hair the color of shined bronze and olive-tanned skin. They somewhat resembled each other. Her eyes were the loveliest brown, like the color of chocolate, which in the sun seemed almost amber.

Chocolate

. She had only tried it once, a gift from her grandmother on her 16th birthday, a gift that had come at a hefty price. But the Consort Mother could afford such luxuries anytime she wanted. Luxuries she, too, should have been able to have after this mission.

There was a tinge of bitterness in her thoughts. It was the royal family’s fault that she was like this. Who would wed her now? Surely not the sultan.

“Consort Mother,” she croaked out. Her throat was rough from the screaming and the pain. That god-awful pain. Lingering bolts of pain sent shivers through her body. She was thankful for the drug, which helped numb it out. Thankful for the seventh prince’s leniency.

Since when had her mind betrayed her so? The Prince was their enemy. The Prince was her enemy. No thanks should be spared to the one who had done this to her.

The drug had not only numbed her pain but also her mind, her thoughts slow and slurred. Was he really the one who had done this to her? Was it not the Consort Mother’s fault. No, the consort mother was-

The Consort Mother looked down at her with an apparent disgust as if on a gutter rat. She had never seen this sort of look from the kind Consort. It distorted her beautiful features, twisting them into something sinister. The Consort, who was always so sweet and kind, looked no better than the demonic seventh prince. No, she looked worse. Her chocolate eyes now looked black.

“Disgusting.”

The word rang out, transcending through the pain and anger she was feeling. It repeated. All around her as if the ghosts of the dead were taunting her. The consort mothers' words distorted into the voices of hundreds. Was she seeing the hundreds who had died for the Consort?

Those words shocked her, and if she had more energy, she would have reacted. She would have tried to understand, but she was too weak. The dead mocked her. The tiredness gnawed at her, trying to take her under, but she fought back. Fighting her fading vision.

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“Cut her tongue out and take her out to the desert,” the Consort's mother commanded someone she couldn’t see. Her fate being guided by a hand outside her own.

The gods work in mysterious ways. Her grandmother's voice echoed in her mind.

Grandma, what kind of gods work in such cruel ways? She thought. If these are gods than they are no better than demons.

There was a moment of pause, and she thought that maybe the Consort had taken pity on her. “Tell her parents she eloped and ran away with a soldier, pick one of the soldiers and dispose of him; they should never find the truth.”

She closed her eyes, the drugs, or maybe it was death that pulled her under. She remembered the Prince’s words, there are fates worse than death. If only she could seek the warm embrace of death. Had the Prince known her fate would be this torturous? If he did, he should have just ended her life in that dungeon.

“Throw her in the dungeon until you find someone to deal with her,” the consort mother’s voice now seemed so distant. The tiredness was overwhelming. Death followed, the shadows that taunted her closing in on her.

Then she remembered the crystal earring with the poison left unused. She groaned, attempting to reach for her earring. Her fingers grabbed the crystal. It was still there. A simmer of hope remained. For the third time, she was dragged by soldiers. The hallways of the harem were not as beautiful as she had previously thought, and she imagined she was back at the Prince’s palace. Maybe if she had listened to her instincts and confessed…maybe she wouldn’t have ended up like this. If only she had listened. The omens had told her not to go. Luck had never been on their side, and neither were the Gods. They were forsaken creatures, and the gods were cruel. They did not care for their children. If they had, they would have never left them. They would have never taken their favor away and left them to survive.

Sitting slumped against the stone walls of the dungeon, she looked longingly at the small window. She would never again see the outside. She would never look up at the sky or feel the grass beneath her feet. Her family would never truly know what had happened to her. Maybe that was for the best, let them keep living thinking that she had run away for love, that she was far away and happy. Let them never know what had happened to her.

With trembling hands, she reached for the earring. She struggled to unhook it and take it off but, after a while, was able to free the small crystal. Bringing it up to the light, she looked at the contents, which were barely visible to the human eye. There was an unnatural calmness to her at that moment. An acceptance of fate.

Then she broke the tip of the crystal earring and hungrily poured the sweet poison into her mouth. It was a tasteless substance. It was said that the poison was so lethal just a drop could kill a person. It was a quick death. She looked out the tiny, barred window and then closed her eyes. Please be kind, God of death, she thought before letting herself be pulled under.

This time, she slipped away into an eternal slumber.