Crimson Vows

7: Gray Dress, Cold Words

Anya’s POV

I wake up when the first light comes through the bars on the window.

The sky is pale gray. Snow still falls outside. Soft. Quiet. My head really hurts.

The bruise on my cheek feels tight. Purple, I think. I touch it and pain shoots all over.

I pull my hand away and slip it under the pillow. Thankfully the knife is still there, I feel it with my fingers. Cold metal. Good.

I do not know why I am glad the knife is still there. It is not mine to begin with.

I sit up. The silk sheets slide down. The room is cold. My breath makes small clouds.

The door unlocks and Sonya walks in.

She carries a tray. There is a tea in a white cu, bread on a plate, and a small jar of honey.

She puts the tray on the small table by the bed.

She does not look at my eyes.

“Eat,” she says. Voice low.

I stare at her.

“You checked me like an animal last night.”

Sonya’s eyes fill with water.

“Anya, I am sorry for that but I had no choice but to do that if I want my head intact.”

“What are you even doing here?” I ask her.

She looks away.

“I am here because they need a doctor. That is all.”

She steps closer. Whispers.

“Kitchen door. Three in the morning. Guards change then.”

Her words are fast and scared.

I open my mouth to ask more but boots sound in the hall.

Lev passes by the open door and he stops, looks at me so hard that I flinch.

My body moves back on the bed.

Did he hear Sonya?

Lev’s scar pulls when he speaks.

“Do not even think of escaping. But you can try. It will give us something to laugh about.”

He walks away. His boots fading.

Sonya touches my hand quick.

“Bathe. You smell of fear. It will help you feel human again.”

She leaves. The door shuts and the lock clicks.

That damn clicking is getting on my nerves.

I stand, but my legs are shaky.

I walk to the bathroom and try to lock the door but there was lock.

Habits die hard. I always lock the bathroom door when I was in my father’s house.

I turn on the water. It was hot, steam fills the room.

I take off the thin nightgown and look in the mirror.

The bruise on my cheek is dark purple.

Red marks visible on my wrist from Nikolai’s grip.

My eyes look big and scared.

I step into the tub. The water burns at first, then warm.

I sit. The water now at my neck level.

I close my eyes to think.

Kitchen door. Three a.m. South through trees. River. Escape.

I wash my hair. The soap smells like pine which only infuriates me the more.

I rinse my hair but stay longer in the bathroom as I plan my escape.

I dry my hair with a white soft towel.

I put on the nightgown again, and then the door opens without warning.

Lev stands there, holding a black box.

He drops it on the bed.

“Boss says wear this.”

I opened the box and inside lies a simple gray dress with long sleeves and black boots. No underwear. Nothing else.

I thought Sonya said Nikolai likes white.

I shake my head.

“I will not.”

Lev steps inside.

“Put it on. Or I put it on you.”

I look at his hands. Big.

I think of the slap. I turn away.

Pull the nightgown off, fast and pull the gray dress on.

It fits. Not tight. Not loose.

Boots next. Leather. Cold. I tie them. Hate every second. Hate his eyes on me.

Lev grabs my arm, and pulls me out, down the stairs.

Hall. Marble cold under boots.

We stop at a big dining room with a long table.

Wood. Dark.

Nikolai sits at the head. Black coffee in front of him. Plate with eggs and bread.

He eats slow and does not look up.

He points to the chair across the table. Far away.

“Sit.”

I walk. Sit. Plate in front of me. Same food. I do not touch it. My stomach hurts. But I will not eat his food.

Nikolai speaks, his voice icy. He still looks at his plate.

“For someone who wants to escape, you starve yourself. Do you not need energy to run? Weak girls do not run far.”

I pick up the fork. I take one bite of bread and chew. I swallow.

To show I am not weak. He says nothing more. Keeps eating.

He stands. “Come.”

I follow. He walks. I walk behind. Guards everywhere. Big men. Guns. We pass a library. Door locked. Books behind glass. Gym next. Men lift weights. Punch bags. Sweat. Basement door. Thick chain. Big lock. He does not open it.

We stop at a glass sunroom. Walls of windows. Snow outside. Trees white. Beautiful. Cold.

Nikolai stands beside me.

“You leave this house, you leave in a box.”

His voice flat. No feeling.

We go back to my room. I walk to the bed. Reach under the pillow. Empty. My heart stops. I turn. Nikolai stands in the doorway. He holds the small knife. Twirls it between his fingers. Slow. “Looking for this?” He puts It in his pocket. Smirk small. “Tools are for those who obey.”

Door shuts. Lock clicks.

Evening comes. Light fades. Snow falls harder. Door opens again. Sonya slips in. Bandages in her hand. “For your cheek,” she whispers. She puts them on the table. Leans close. “Tonight. Three a.m. I leave the kitchen door open. Run south through the trees. River in two kilometers.” Her eyes beg. Trust me.

Door locks. I am alone. Heart beats fast. I sit on the bed. Look at the clock. Old. Ticks loud. Two forty-seven a.m. Snow taps the window. Tap. Tap.

Trust Sonya? Or is this a trap?