The Girl in the Iron Mask

A short while later our mental link abruptly breaks and Nisa withdraws from her probing. I check my source of power and find a new reserve of magic waiting there. Still too little to be of much use, but more than there was last night. I wait patiently for Nisa to give me a new order.

"Rise," she commands. Not an easy task in my heavy chains, but I manage to struggle to my feet.

"You must be thirsty. You may have a drink before we resume your training."

Nisa places two glasses on the platform beside my cage. One is full of water; the other is empty. I wait while Nisa lifts her skirt and pisses into the empty glass. It soon overflows onto the floor. She places the glass next to the glass of water.

"Drink," she commands.

I can tell she is testing me. A stupid test, really. I reach forward and take my glass, downing the contents in a few gulps. Nisa smiles and tells me to clean up the mess on the floor. Inside I smirk at my cleverness. She won't fool me with such an obvious trick. No slave is allowed to drink pure water. A slave may only drink the golden nectar bestowed by a Lady or Lord. I've saved myself from further punishment by remembering that simple rule.

I don't protest when Nisa has me lie down in the iron box. My ankle chains are fastened to the box and the lid slid closed over me. I've no idea what I've done to deserve this punishment, but I don't doubt Nisa's wisdom in doing so. I lie there quietly recalling my recent lessons. The hand signals, the postures, the rules a slave must follow. These all seem so obvious to me now. How I must address my betters as Lord or Lady; never by their name, or by human terms such as master or mistress.

I relax and go into a light sleep. Different thoughts run rapidly through my mind. The faces of my friends and what they may be doing now. Rowan. Thoughts of Rowan enter my mind. Weird thoughts. Confusing thoughts. My husband. A male who knows me in the most intimate way possible. But that can't be right. No Lady or Lord has ever granted me permission to lie with a male. Certainly not to marry one. How can a slave be married? It's just not right.

Not right. Not right. Those two words keep echoing through my mind. Why? I feel as though I'm on the verge of understanding something fundamental, but it keeps eluding me. Frustrating. So frustrating. I can't tell if I'm awake or dreaming when I hear the sound of dragging chain. Noor. Yes, it must be Noor arriving with my next meal. But the hatch doesn't open, so I must have been dreaming. I'm awake now though. Moments later, more warm golden nectar sprays through the air holes and onto my face. I greedily drink what I can.

Nisa returns a few hours later and removes me from my box. She offers me food and we again go through the routine with the two glasses. I can't understand why she is so pleased when I select and drink from the correct glass. But I'm only a slave, so I've no right to question what pleases a Lady.

Nisa has me lie down again, and once more I feel a magic link built between us. The power she gifted to me last time is hungry for more. For the first time I sense Nisa have a moment of panic as my power draws hungrily upon hers through our link. But Nisa manages to clamp down on the flow of power and restrict the channel to a trickle. I'm inside her mind as she is undoubtedly inside mine. This is wrong. A slave has no business looking inside a Lady's mind. But I can't resist my probing.

The part of Nisa's mind I perceive as a library is far more complex than I first imagined. I could explore better if the untidy pile of imaginary books was out of the way. I mentally pick them up one at a time and turn them into ash with my wildfire. In no time at all I've cleared the whole pile. I start to study the remaining books but our link is suddenly broken. I open my eyes and see Lady Nisa stagger back. She doesn't look well. It takes her a few moments to recover her senses.

"Stand," she commands. I comply as quickly as I can manage. "Wait there."

Lady Nisa rushes out of the room. I wait patiently. I'd like to use the chamber pot, but there is nobody about to ask for permission. I grit my teeth and clamp down on my bladder. I wait and wait. It's no good. I can't hold my bladder any longer. But I must. The punishment for disobedience is ten lashes. More if a Lord or Lady desire it. I try my best, but seconds later I'm standing in a large puddle of my own making. I stand quietly where Lady Nisa commanded. I don't dare to make any attempt to hide the disgraceful evidence of my wrongdoing.

Finally Lady Nisa returns with Lady Maeve by her side. Neither fails to notice the mess on the floor, but Lady Maeve seems more concerned with Lady Nisa than with me. I sense Lady Maeve's probing magic invading my defences. Again I sense a link forming, only this time between Lady Maeve and I. But Lady Maeve retreats quickly when she senses my source of power snatching at her abundant store.

"Hmmph," is Lady Maeve's initial response. "Your swaying as worked up to a point, Nisa. But we must now try another way to reinforce her submission. The human way. A much slower way, but we shall be patient. Her magic is too hungry for us to continue with the swaying. You are lucky she's encased in her irons. Otherwise she might have been able to sway your mind while you were swaying hers."

"As you command, Lady," replies Lady Nisa. "Shall I summon Cairn?"

"Let's ask the slave," says Lady Maeve. "Slave! What punishment do you deserve for this filth on the floor?"

"Ten lashes of the whip, Lady," I reply. "More if you desire it."

"Summon Cairn, Nisa. Slave; clean this mess up while we wait."

Lady Nisa leaves and I shuffle off to a nearby room to fetch what I need to carry out Lady Maeve's command. I secretly count my blessings that neither Lady Nisa nor Lady Maeve have noticed my tampering of Lady Nisa's mind. Such a crime would surely warrant the most severe punishment imaginable. It's only my fear of the consequences that prevents me from confessing my guilt to Lady Maeve.

Chapter 6: Submission

That night I lie in my cage feeling relaxed and content. It isn't something I should be feeling given my situation, but that's how it is. I again study the torches around the room. One of the torches hasn't been lit. The careless attendant will undoubtedly be punished if the oversight is discovered. I shouldn't be concerned about such a thing, but for some reason I am.

I mentally reach out to the unlit torch and imagine lighting it. I sit up suddenly when blue flames leap up from the torch. Flames which are so much brighter than those of the other torches. Wildfire. It's as well that most of Doranelle is made of stone, or the intense flame could start a fire. I watch the flame for a while, subtly changing its intensity and colour until it resembles the other torches. I've tried this trick before and now it seems to come naturally to me. Easy stuff, really, except my iron mask and fetters should make what I'm doing impossible.

If I can use wildfire, then does that mean I can use the rest of my magic? I reach down into my source of power. There's barely enough magic power in my reserves to do more than a few party tricks. I reach lower into myself; towards the place where wildfire resides. It's there! My wildfire has returned! But in what quantity? I don't know. The iron around me may have blocked my other magic returning, but wildfire obviously doesn't obey the same rules. But having wildfire at my disposal doesn't tell me what I should do with it.

This is where my mind has become so very confused. When I was on board the ship which brought me to Doranelle, I had a clear goal to achieve. Restore my wildfire and use it to defeat the Fae queen and her acolytes. Now I'm not so sure that it's the right thing to do. Over the last few days I've begun to understand and appreciate Maeve's position. The confusing thoughts which had worried me at first no longer trouble me. The sense of wrongness hasn't disappeared entirely, but it no longer disturbs my sleep. Lady Maeve may be cruel and selfish, but she's been the rightful queen of the Fae for centuries. So long that I doubt anybody can name the heir to her crown. Indeed, I could lay a distant claim to her throne. After all, my mother was a descendant of Maeve's sister, Mab. But I'm being ridiculous. No slave can become a queen. Although, that said, I was a slave in Endovier and later learned that I was the rightful queen of Terrasen.

My enforced stay in Doranelle has opened my eyes to the truth. Lady Maeve is not the monster I had believed her to be. Now that I appreciate her situation, I understand why, ten years ago, she refused to help protect the Fae living in Terrasen. I want to forgive her for that treachery but my lingering sense of wrongness hold me back.

The fresh marks on my back from Cairn's whip barely trouble me. When Lady Maeve ordered Cairn to whip me this afternoon, I didn't question the reason why, or the severity of the sentence. I realise now that my back is a blank canvas for him to paint with my blood. The pain I can endure, reminding me to try harder to please my rightful owner, Lady Maeve. She must be pleased with my progress, as she afterwards ordered Lady Nisa to heal my back of the wounds inflicted by Cairn.

But Lady Nisa's attitude towards me changed as the day progressed. At first I thought I had done something wrong, but now I'm not so sure. She didn't hesitate to heal my wounds as soon as Lady Maeve commanded it. Indeed, she did more. She soothed the pain as well as seal the lacerations. She even wanted to erase the marks entirely, but Lady Maeve refused. Lady Nisa's work was so good that I managed my regular exercises around the annex and throne room without difficulty. I even ran short distances wearing my heavy restraints. I don't doubt I looked ridiculous, but I've no longer any reason to have pride or respect for my appearance. Pleasing Lady Maeve is all that matters.

Thoughts of Rowan enter my mind. Earlier I couldn't reconcile how Rowan could be my husband. He's a prince among the Fae, while I'm but a lowly slave. The answer is obvious now. It was my surrender to Lady Maeve which brought about my current slavery. I haven't always been a slave. What I don't understand is why that simple fact didn't occur to me before.

Lord Rowan has every right to annul our marriage now I'm the property of Lady Maeve. I expect he will do so soon, if he hasn't done so already. A twinge of sadness ripples through my body. The memories of our sexual encounters starts me on the dangerous path of arousal. But I no longer fear being reduced to a state of total helplessness. Lady Maeve seems happy to allow me my fleeting moments of pleasure. It's all part of the pain and reward regime that she has prescribed. I've stepped so far down the path of depravity, that modesty, pride and self respect are fading memories. I'm but a beast to be put to work by my betters.

I bring myself to a heightened state of arousal, but these cravings are no longer a never ending spiral into helplessness. Memories of my experiences at the end of Cairn's whip achieve the desired result. Soon afterwards I fall into a peaceful sleep.

Lady Nisa wakes me very early the next morning. The high windows I can just see in the throne room show no sign of daylight. She unlocks my cage door and orders me to step onto the plinth. I quickly shake the sleep from my senses and look at her for her next command. She's clearly worried; it's as though something is seriously wrong.

She hands me a glass of clean water. I take hold of it, but I don't drink it. She's testing me again. Why is she doing this? A slave can only drink the golden nectar gifted by a Lord or Lady.

"Drink it, Aelin," she says. "Try to remember who are and what you need to do."

I look at her in disbelief. She called me by my old name. And she wants me to drink pure water. This is wrong. So very wrong. I give the signal to indicate I don't understand her order.

"Speak, Aelin," pleads Lady Nisa. "Remember who you are. You're the Queen of Terrasen."

Yes, I know who I was. But Lady Maeve took my name and title from me when she enslaved me. I'm confused. I mustn't disobey Lady Maeve's instructions. It's very wrong to do so. Why is Lady Nisa trying to make me disobey? My look of dismay causes Lady Nisa to try another tack. She takes the glass of water from me.

"Lie down, slave," orders Lady Nisa.

I do so without hesitation. Again I sense her magic probing and in a matter of seconds she has the invisible channel open between us. I refuse to enter her mind. It was so wrong of me to do so before. I simply wait while she performs whatever task she intends to do. I sense my source of power trying to drain Lady Nisa's power. My power is rewarded with a much stronger flow than Lady Nisa allowed previously. Suddenly the link is broken. I look around me, feeling bewildered. What is happening? What is Nisa doing?

"I'm sorry for what I did before, Aelin," says Nisa. "I've done what I can to make amends, but there isn't time to do more. Try to forgive me."

Nisa doesn't expect me to reply, and she returns me to my cage. I lie down as she locks it again. I'm too bewildered by what is happening. My thoughts and feelings which were starting to become clearer yesterday, are once again all muddled and confused. I wait patiently for a few hours until Nisa returns at the usual time. She has me go through the normal morning routine of ablutions and breakfast. Maeve joins us a few minutes later.

Maeve promptly touches my exposed cheek and I sense her magical probing. She's doesn't linger, and closes the link between us before too much of her power is drained by mine.

"Answer my questions," says Maeve. "What is your name?"

"Slave, Lady," I reply.

"Whose slave?"

"Yours, Lady."

"Hmmm. Have you drunk from this glass?" asks Maeve, holding the glass of water Lady Nisa left during her earlier visit.

"No, Lady. It is forbidden for a slave to drink pure water."

"That's right. Now, would you like me to remove your chains?"

"Only if it pleases you to do so, Lady," I reply.

"Would you like to be reunited with Rowan? Would you like to feel his presence between your legs once again?"

"Only if it pleases you to allow it, Lady."

Maeve is studying my face intently when I give each answer. She's looking for any sign a falseness or trickery. The iron mask hides most of my face, but I don't underestimate her power. My eyes would betray me if I told a lie. Maeve ends the interview and orders me to lie down in the iron box. My ankle chains are fastened to the box, and the lid slid closed. I'm left to my own thoughts once more. Confusing thoughts. What did Maeve mean about a reunion with Rowan? I hope he hasn't been so foolish as to come to Doranelle. What could such a mission achieve? At best it would only confirm that I'm now Maeve's slave. At worst it would risk Rowan being placed in Maeve's thrall once again.

As Queen of Terrasen, I accepted Maeve's terms of surrender. I'm bound by my word of honour as much as I'm bound by all this iron. Maeve allowed no condition in the terms of my surrender that protected my status as a free person. By now Maeve will have ensured that the terms of that surrender will have become common knowledge. Lysandra's part in the deception shielding my absence from Erawan's spies might not be enough. If people know that I'm enslaved in Doranelle, then they'll see through Lysandra's shapeshifting illusion of me. And even if I escaped back to Terrasen, my supporters may no longer accept me as their queen. Some of those who benefit by the permanent removal of my claim to the Terrasen throne would undoubtedly assist in my recapture and return. An escaped slave has no rights or protection against the claims of her rightful owner. Even my life is Maeve's to dispose of as she wishes.

More confusion racks through my mind. What am I to do? By rights I should accept my fate and submit willingly to my Lady's desires. But there's still a part of me which wants to continue fighting. To continue resisting Maeve's evil goals. I have a duty. Not one I volunteered to perform, but a duty nonetheless. My ability to summon and use wildfire exists for a specific purpose. A purpose I should not deny, no matter how much I dislike that purpose. It's as though I'm at a fork in the road. One path leads to my fiery death, which was apparently foretold many centuries ago. My duty. My responsibility. Thousands ... no, millions ... of people are relying on me doing my duty. The other path is much longer, and leads to an uncertain end. A life of servitude and degradation. Not just for me, but all those relying on me. My heart binds me to the first path; my honour to the second. But what meaning has honour to a slave?

For the next several weeks I follow the same daily routine. I spend each night in my iron box bound by my heavy chains. In the morning I'm taken out of my box and fed, exercised and allowed to wash and use the chamber pot. Then my chains are removed and I'm locked in my cage. My freedom from the chains is only so that I can clean and polish them. My mask, belt, collar, wrist and ankle fetters are never removed but must be cleaned each day as well ... at least, as best as I can manage unaided. After a midday meal I'm removed from my cage and my chains reattached. More exercises follow, which are concluded by Cairn laying twenty strokes of his lash across my back. I still refuse to give him the pleasure of seeing me plead for mercy. My resistance only encourages him to put greater effort into his strokes. Fortunately for me, Nisa uses her magic to seal the lacerations before returning me to my cage. However, Maeve has forbidden her from easing the pain. That is something I must endure in the hours that follow. Pain is very much a part of my training regime. After an evening meal I'm returned to my box.

I don't feel guilty when I allow memories of Rowan to arouse my sexual yearning. Nisa says that pleasure is also a key part of my training regime. Pain and pleasure, combined in the right mix allow my mind and body to blissfully ignore my predicament and encourage my total submission to Maeve's will. Before long, pain and pleasure each become synonymous with the other. Cairn's lashes soon cause my loins to become damp. He's trained me to respond that way by smearing his whip with the male musk that makes me so helpless. He makes me smell his whip before he begins. Soon the mere sight of his whip has me wet with desire. Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. I can no longer imagine one without the other.

I've become accustomed to the boredom. The weight and restrictions of my mask and chains now seem natural to me. The skin on my neck, wrists, and ankles has hardened from the iron shackles, and my fetters are now only a minor inconvenience. I've even become accustomed to the weight of the iron rings pierced through my nipples. As are the hours of pain I endure after Cairn's beatings. I realise that subconsciously I have accepted my fate. That I'm Maeve's slave to command. But a part of me periodically screams 'No!'.

Chapter 7: False Hope

My year long experience in the slave mines of Endovier taught me the futility of trying to reason why I am being made to do certain things. The only difference here is that my daily routine is a mixture of pleasure and pain. In Endovier it was a mixture of pain and even worse pain. I suppose Maeve has a different objective to that of the overseers of Endovier, but how she intends to achieve her end goal is still beyond my understanding. But I'm only a slave and it isn't necessary for me to understand my betters.

Between them, Maeve and Nisa have trained me to the point where I feel lost if my routine of abuse and punishment is changed. I perform all my bodily functions to a timetable, and I haven't soiled my box or cage in weeks. Even so, my daily routine is gradually changing. During the day I wear the heavy chains less and less, although I don't resist when Nisa places them on me. The only time when I always wear the chains is when I'm locked in my iron box.