Underestimate Me

She was panting outside of the tent. Her enraged body was blowing off steam, matching the heat of this evening. A clenched hand was holding on to the fabric of the tent as her knuckles turned white from pressure. Josselyn was strangling the fabric between her fingers. Her fingers circled the textile and tried to squeeze the non-existent life out of it. It was all she could do to not strangle him.

Him, inside. The one who still seemed to have such power over her. The way her sister’s name left his lips was enough to set off a blaze inside of her. He was not worthy of speaking her name. He was not worthy of mentioning her. The three syllables of her name were like arrows in her heart. They punctured it and left her heart to bleed out. Josselyn could still smell the lavender on her hair, just like she was back. Back in her former life, burying her nose in the dark full hair of her little blood sister. They would sleep together, Rebecca’s smaller body following the curves of her own. She would talk in her sleep and Josselyn would laugh, the nonsense that girl could speak. She smelled the lavender, like Rebecca was next to her again. She could almost lay her arm around her little sister, pulling her closer and feeling how they breathed as one.

Softly her hand let go of the cloth. She withdrew it and was finally truly outside of the tent. Her hand had still been inside, gagging the textile, as if it did not want to leave. As if it truly longed for strangling that man inside.

“Josselyn?” the little voice was but a whisper, though she was awake and had been listening to Rebecca’s breathing for about an hour.

“What is it?” She whispered back. They were lying on the bed. The moon was already descending again, making place for the sun to rise. Josselyn had not slept and she did not know if her little sister had been haunted by insomnia as well.

“What will happen now?” the hesitation in Rebecca’s voice was evident. The question was vague, but she knew it what her little sister wanted to know. What would happen if she married Hadrian? What would happen now there was no way out? Gently her fingers brushed against the girl’s upper arm. She was soothing her little sister, while she was the one that was supposed to be afraid.

“I don’t know,” she whispered in Rebecca’s ear. “But don’t you worry little one,” she forced a smile upon her face. For Rebecca she would run to the end of the world. For Rebecca she could put on a brave face. “I will never leave you,” and as the smell of lavender filled her nose, she sighed. It would all be fine. Balor was there for her. She knew he would be.

Josselyn had risen her head up again and stepped back into the chamber of the tent. Rowen was still sitting on the chair and his head slightly hung. His arms bound behind his back made him hunch, his strong body somewhat shrunken down. This boy was not the strong man she once had held him to be. This was not the person that could hurt either her or her sisters. This was not someone who could hurt Rebecca. She would not let him. He could not reach her, for she was not there. Maa was before him, and Maa was not moved by empty threats.

“Let’s try this again.” Her cool words froze her lips as they passed them. She said down facing him, Aldith was standing behind him, her posture seemingly relaxed but the hand on her knife told a different story.

“Sister Aldith, don’t be alarmed. Bones will not be broken tonight. You can let go of your knife. This man cannot hurt you.” Her sister let go of her knife, but her posture did not lose its tense. Rowen looked up, a confused look in his eyes. It was hidden behind layers of suppression. Though she had known this man and he was not so much a mystery as he wanted to be. Like every great actor, he had his moments of revelation and she caught them.

“It was not me I was afraid for,” Aldith said. Her eyes connecting upon Rowen. A little smile appeared on Josselyn's face.

“I see you all have become very fond of our guest,” She said.

Immediately panic set on Aldith’s face as she began stuttering. “No, sister Josselyn... I do not...I wish him only justice...but his wounds are already bad…” The poor sister was falling over her own words. Stumbling in apologies and explanations.

“Don’t fret,” Josselyn spoke. “I once fell for his brutal charm too,” She moved to the edge of her seat, closing the gap between her captive and her. She could count his pores and his manly scent surrounded her. Her elbows leaned on her upper legs as her eyes were leveled with his. His dark irises shocked her slightly. There was not just deviance in them, there was hurt too. She hardened her own glare again and tried to ignore the scent that was giving her flashbacks. Its drugging napalm was surrounding her, but he could not touch her. He could not. She was not just Josselyn.

“Who is your father sending?”

“I don’t know.”

“How many is he sending?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is he sending Merek?”

“I don’t know!”

With every question her voice rose slightly and every response was the same. Rowen was playing the fool. He only missed the bells on his hat and the pointy shoes. He was vacantly staring through her. He did not need to hear the question, to give her the same answer over and over.

Suddenly his words changed. His eyes caught life again and they truly looked at her. They connected and started stirring inside her. It was hard to keep facing him, but she knew she could do it. Maa did not back out of confrontation. She took it by its horns and flung it aside. Nothing could hold her from her desire. Nothing could stand up against her, all would budge and kneel if wanting life.

“Is this really what you want to ask?” He said. His eyes were striking her so roughly. They held a mixture of emotions. It was hard to read all that they displayed. There was disgust, disbelief, pain and grief. There was anger and misunderstanding, there was guilt. Guilt was to be seen in his eyes.

“I only desire these answers, for I know all the rest.” She whispered with a venomous hiss.

“Josselyn, I did not have any part in what happened to you!” He was raising his own voice now. His indifference was gone. His monotone voice was changing and filling with passion. He was acting again.

Rage was welling up inside of her and from Aldith movement to her knife it was obviously showing. How could he keep this up. These grim lies. Why did he keep selling them, while she never expressed any interest in his trade. Her hands started shaking as she remembered how she had screamed for him. How she had begged for him to come. Begged for him to save her. Where had he been. She had shrieked his name until it was raw on her throat. He had not come.

“It’s not the lies that insult me, for I expected them. It’s your belief I am still that foolish girl that trusted you. That is the true insult,” Her voice was shaking with anger, but she was far from finished with him. She could not stop now, the words seemed to force themselves upon her, like nausea working its way up.

“You are not half the woman you used to be!” He moved forward, as much as Aldith and her chains would allow him to move. Their noses almost touching now, his breath quickened with his rage. She was pulling his strings as she saw indignation rising in his body. She was ready to meet him full on. She was prepared to fight this battle. One without broken bones, one without knifes, for they had already sliced her.

“What half would that be? The one they butchered, or the one they kept intact?” The scar upon her face tingled a bit when speaking the words. Compared to her body, they had left her face with just a single scar.

“We need something comely to look at,” Their tainted hands holding her chin, the point of the knife breaking skin just above her eyebrow. “Rowen!” She screamed before they finally gagged her.