Bel pushed the bowl away with her fingers. She didn’t feel like eating.

Hungry flies rushed towards the bowl. Their signature buzz only audible due to the relative silence of the room. They rubbed their limbs together, unironiclally, in the same way people would when they saw something they liked.

I wonder if they copied the flies, or if its evolutionary…

Still, as the flies feasted, she didn’t feel a singer pang of hunger. She hadn’t eaten for days, but she would often practice fasting, so maybe that had something to do with it.

Or maybe it was the fact that she was to be executed soon.

Bel crossed her arms at the thought of it. If she was going to be killed, it would be without any food in her stomach. She had seen enough executions to know what happened to people who ate right before they died.

Originally, she had been schedualed do die a few days ago, but it was postponed to yesterday. Now, it was postponed until further notice.

Inside the cell there wasn’t much to do. There was a cot in one corner, a bucket in another corner, a window overlooking the back of the castle, and door leading to the hall.

She would often entertain herself by eavesdropping on the chatty guards stationed by her cell. She got a lot of information that way, besides stuff they would tell her directly.

I wonder what they’ll talk about today?

She cupped her ears and pressed her head up against the door.

“She hasn’t eaten in days… You think the hag is trying to starve herself?” A muffled voice spoke.

“Don’t really care. It doesn’t matter anyways… She’s probably going out on her terms.”

“Ainit’ a problem? Y’know? If she kill’s herself?”

“King Boneh want’s her to be hanged remember? Can’t hang’er if she’s dead.”

“I suppose not. But I don't think we’re gonna be hangin her anytime soon.

The guard banged his fist on the door. “Hey, witch! You hear? Don’t starve on us yet!”

Laughter echoed through the hallways. Bel curled her fists in anger.

Calm yourself, Bel. They’re just boys, from the sound of their voices. They don’t know better.

She relaxed a bit. Pressing her ear back up again to hear more of their conversation.

“...You think she’s awake?”

“Doubt it. I think they’re nocturnal, or maybe that was just the black ones.”

“Black?”

“Yeah, black. She’s black ain’t she? That’s why they call em, the um, black witches.”

“Because of the color of her skin?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s stupid.”

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Bel rolled her eyes.

“They call em black witches cause they perform black magic.”

“The hell’s the difference?”

“Shit if I know.”

“And why do they call it black magic? Is regular magic white?”

“That Corvin guy is white.”

“Yeah- Wait, his skin?”

“His skin, his hair, his robes. He’s the whitest man alive.”

“That guy scares me.”

“Anything scares you. The women at the bar scare you.”

“I ran away because someone was stealing our horse.”

“Yeah, I agree. The Corvin guy is scary.”

“Wait. He uses magic, right?”

“Yeah?”

“So how come we got this girl locked up, but he walks free?”

“...”

“I dunno man…

The a door opened. A third voice spoke.

“Hello, I am Pas. I am the new kings advisor. It has been decided that the prisoner be relocated as soon as possible.”

There was silence for a few moments.

“Um, yes sir.”

The other guard didn't agree.

“Sir, our orders were to stay here until the execution is ordered.”

It does not matter what your previous orders were, they have now changed with the situation. I will return in 10 minutes, by that time you should have the prisoner being escorted to one of the carts.”

Then he left.

“Who was that guy?”

“I don't care, if he's the new advisor, that means that old fart Oberion retired.”

The door clicked, Bel scrambled back to her cot to appear as if she hadn't been listening in on them.

The door opened. And the two guards walked into the room. One was tall and thin, and the other was short and stout.

“Get up, witch.”

Bel got up. She followed their directions, which was to walk to the other room, then sit in a chair.

The tall guard threw a sack on her head. Then the short soldier poked her with a needle. She began to lose feeling in her legs, then her arms. Soon, she couldn’t even move her face.

“Aight’ she should be out now. Let’s move her, come on!”

“Man, she’s heavy! Can we swap places?”

Bel couldn’t tell who was speaking. Whatever they pricked her with was giving her vertigo, plus the sack on her head wasn’t helping.

Sleeping agent, she thought. Or at least it was supposed to be. What a mediocre brew. I should have been asleep already. Either they didn’t time the drug correctly, or they didn’t give me a high enough dose.

Bel hoped it wasn’t the latter. Then she fell asleep.

“Okay, be careful here, don’t bang her head on the doorway.”

They dragged her downstairs awkwardly, beginning to regret administering the drug so soon. Finally, reaching the bottom, they were greeted by Pas.

Pas wore a simple hood that shrouded his face. He had a dagger on his waist and was leaning on a wagon, reading a book. He snapped it shut when he saw them approaching.

“Hello again, load her into the cart.”

The two men grunted and lifted her into the back of the wagon haphazardly. After they did, they began to enter the cart as well, but Pas stopped them.

“Go back to your posts, your work here is done.” He said sternly.

The guards looked at each other, then at Pas, in disbelief. “You don't want protection?” The tall one asked.

“No.” Pas motioned to the dagger on his belt. “The king has entrusted me with his most valuable prisoner, especially since you have heard of what happened to Zalina Boneh, yes?”

The guards stiffened. Talking about the kings daughter so openly, or really any gossip for that matter, was strictly prohibited. They certainly knew, but they dared not speak on it.

“As you must know, King Boneh has not yet acted on her assassination, but soon he will, and I will not fail as General Oberion did.”

The guards did end up going back to their posts, defending a now empty cell. Meanwhile, Pas left with Bel.