The prisons did not reflect the fine craftsmanship and proud ownership that permeated the rest of the kings' districts. The locks and hinges were new on the cell doors, and everything else was old, dirty, and bare bones.

Eany jumped up to grab the ledge of the one, tiny, barred window that allowed light into her cell. Straining, she hauled herself up by her fingertips far enough to look out.

There was a cruel streak in the planning in King's Circle. There was as a clear view of the Execution Theater from her window – and all the other windows in the district prison – as you could get from street-level. The tall, circular walls rose high above the rooftops, though it itself had no roof. Technically, the law of King's Mercy dictated that any prisoner who successfully climbed over the walls during their event would be granted their freedom. People claimed it had happened before. Eany wasn't so sure. She was half-convinced the spectators just liked to see people who tried fall.

Whatever the intention, whatever the point was in putting their windows facing that direction, the Theater gave her a strong point of reference. The other major landmarks of the King's Palace, the Tower of Punishment, the Cathedral of Rahena, and the Great University were all nowhere to be seen, which meant she was somewhere west of the City Center, but east (obviously) of the Theater and the Wide Canal.

Good.

She wasn't very familiar with the district – Protector policy dictated that any prisoner above a certain level of offense must be held in a different district then they were apprehended in – but she knew more about it then she did the districts beyond the Wide Canal. This was still middling territory. She would be able to find her way back to familiar haunts as long as they didn't cross the canals.

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Now, to formulate an escape plan...

The window was out of the reckoning immediately. A nimble child could have squeezed through the hole if there were no bars, but Eany just wasn't built like that anymore. The cell door looked solid, but she could at least test it. Guards were usually the real wildcard – proving either to be the greatest asset or the greatest hinderance in an escape attempt – but she had yet to even see one. They'd brought her in on the prison wagon blindfolded, thrown her in a cell still bound, and closed the door on her.

Ah hah, yes. List of material assets.

A few short lengths of rope and her blindfold, otherwise known as the means to tie up a single guard and the gag to silence him. Her prison outfit, loosely-fit brown cloth with no shoes or belt. A filthy bucket... a weapon? It would be better then nothing.

Eanith Jondotr.

Then, suddenly, Eany realized she was dreaming.

Do not run. Do not escape.

She turned impulsively back to the window, hauled herself up again to look out the window. The Execution Theater dominated her vision, though the view had not changed.

Go willingly, Eanith. Do not back down. Accept every challenge, and take by force all others whether they offer or not.

She'd been to an event once. With her uncle, when she was young. “Do not end up here, Eany,” he had told her, and he had made her watch as they let the wolves out. He made her watch them run down the thief like an injured deer. Then he had hidden her eyes from what came next, but he couldn't block out the bloodthirsty roaring of the crowd. “Don't be like him, little one.”

She had been sobbing so much, she almost couldn't manage, “I won't.”

Go, Jondotr. Burn it to the ground.