Molly stated, “You are lying.”
“No, indeed. We are just beyond the hill. We are considerably distant from Life Pharmacy; I nearly returned to inform them of your absence until one of my dogs detected your scent once more. Had you arrived merely an hour earlier, you might have already been there with your prince.”
She was far from Jayce—had she been aware, she would have run until her lungs bled within her chest. She would not have ceased for an instant until she was reunited with him. He could then dismantle them for having taken her initially. All her efforts were in vain, and the awareness of her proximity to success would cause her sleepless nights. As Marcus desired. He cast a glance at her over his shoulder, a satisfied smirk adorning his lips.
Her singular opportunity was squandered due to the repugnant man before her. Had he not been encircled by ferocious, loyal dogs, she would have attempted to strike his head with her bare fists.
What a dreadful notion. When did she become so violent? This time, she could not attribute it to her wolf. She resembled a spectre within her now. This was entirely Molly’s doing. All that transpired instigated an escalating sense of anger within her. What would occur upon its eventual rupture?
They returned to Life Pharmacy with the demeanour of one approaching their own funeral. It felt that way because she recognised her freedom was irreparably compromised. She disregarded all of the man’s conversational attempts, which typically reverted to his assessment of her dire situation.
She was now at the mercy of the rogues—her actual nightmare. Kylie would have lost consciousness had she been aware of Molly’s situation. Once more, she felt relief that her friend was absent, despite her longing to see her. Molly envisioned herself nestled in her bed within their former room. Secure and distanced from any form of peril. She yearned to be present as well.
Mr. Hugh, Joseph, and several other guards awaited her on the steps of Life Pharmacy. She refrained from attempting to interpret the impassive expression on Joseph’s face as she approached. Marcus unfastened his rope and extended his hand.
A guard placed a sack of coins in his hand, provoking her desire to spit on him. Her existence served solely as a benefit for these individuals. It was as if she were not regarded as a person; their sole concern was the profit they could derive from her.
Mr. Hugh expressed his disapproval by shaking his head. “Molly, I held you in higher regard. Did you genuinely believe you could abscond in the dead of night without our awareness?”
“It appeared to take you an extended period to observe,” Molly remarked, her chin elevated.
“Ah, but who is at my feet appearing as though she has been dragged through the mud?” Mr. Hugh smiled before his expression faltered entirely. “Given your lack of respect towards us, I find no justification for extending you any. Place her in the lower cells; she is no longer worthy of our hospitality.” He stated before turning away from her. He likely anticipated her dissent, yet Molly was disinclined to engage in conflict. She was devoid of any internal substance.
Joseph and another guard seized her arms and escorted her through the building to the dimly lit lower level. It appeared that no one had visited that location in years. The notion of the myriad insects and rodents inhabiting that space elicited a visceral reaction of discomfort. The conditions were even more deplorable than those of the palace cells, which at least provided some semblance of light.
Joseph intensified his grasp upon sensing her tension. She cast a glance at him, yet he averted his gaze. The other guard restrained her calmly and appeared entirely unperturbed by her, unlike the others. Nonetheless, she recognised that she was no longer favoured by the night crew. She speculated that they all had to forgo their numerous naps and now needed to be more vigilant regarding individuals discreetly passing by them.
Numerous vacant cells were present in rows. Joseph was not jesting when he stated that they were unaccustomed to housing prisoners, prompting her to contemplate the rationale behind the existence of such a facility unless it was inherited from prior lords.
The guards did not confine her in a cell near the entrance; instead, they escorted her deep into the darkness, as if seeking a corner more obscure than hell to imprison her.
Upon their cessation, her visibility was entirely obstructed as they unlatched the cell and thrust her inside. She tripped over her own feet and fell forcefully onto her knees. She could sense the grimness beneath her fingers, which induced a gag reflex. What was located here?
“Stop! Joseph,” Molly pivoted and grasped the bars. She was uncertain of his presence, as she could perceive nothing. “I apologise for taking your keys. You must understand that I required them to flee; my safety is compromised here.”
Quietude. Complete silence. Molly extended her hands through the bars and clutched at emptiness. Shortly thereafter, she discerned footsteps departing, confirming that he had perceived her presence.
They provided her with nothing while she was in the cells. Absence of food, blankets, or candles. She was compelled to remain in darkness, anticipating that slumber would provide an escape from her anguish.
An eternity elapsed before she perceived the sound of approaching footsteps and the tsk of disapproval from a voice she had come to detest.
Mr. Hugh exhaled deeply while resting against her bars. Although she could not perceive him, she was aware of his presence. “Do not presume I have overlooked you, dear.” His laughter reverberated around her, attempting to engulf her entirely. “Are you prepared for our dinner? I trust you are famished.”
The dining room to which Molly was escorted was considerably smaller than she anticipated. A table for two was adorned with a stunning emerald cloth and coordinating plates, already laden with food prior to their seating. One of the attendants drew out her chair, and Molly felt a sense of embarrassment regarding her dishevelled appearance. Although it was not a palace, it remained aesthetically pleasing.
Molly attempted to tame her unkempt hair and disregarded the grime on her arms while surreptitiously wiping her hands as clean as possible beneath the table. Mr. Hugh occupied the chair opposite her and beamed broadly as though they were long-standing acquaintances. She was compelled to ponder his motive for that grin.
“We plan to depart for the church after dinner; I deemed it prudent for us to arrive the night prior to your party’s arrival,” Mr Hugh stated while positioning a serviette on his lap. She observed his every action, mirroring his scrutiny of her, as though it were a competitive game.
“Are we going to wait all night for them?” Molly enquired. She observes the food on their plates and notes that it is arranged identically. “I believe it was superfluous to arrive that early.”
“We must not be unprepared. A trade of this magnitude warrants additional preparation, would you not agree?” Mr. Hugh remarked casually as he lifted his fork for the first time.
“I-”
“Furthermore,” he persisted, disregarding Molly’s comment, “I wouldn’t be surprised if your prince arrived just as early as we did.” Mr. Hugh winked at her. Molly merely blinked. Each time he referred to Jayce as her prince, it elicited a visceral discomfort in her. As if he possessed knowledge of a secret exclusive to the two of them.
“Is there a specific reason you bestowed upon me the honour of a private dinner?” Molly enquired. “While I appreciate your efforts, I sense that there are additional topics you wish to discuss.”
“I value your inclination to be direct.” He reclined in his chair. Molly’s stomach rumbled from the enticing aromas before her, yet he had not yet taken a bite—and neither would she.
