THE GOLDEN CAGE
1043 Words
Solyn stood frozen where Calian had left her, the word still echoing in her head.
Contained.
“What does that mean?” she demanded, her voice sharp with disbelief. “You don’t get to say something like that and walk away.”
Calian did not turn back. His footsteps faded down the corridor with infuriating calm, as though her fear and confusion were irrelevant details he had already accounted for. The silence that followed felt heavier than any argument.
"I asked you something!! You cannot shut this door on my face." Solyn was troubled to hear such things from a man she barely knew, but her father had blind faith in this man. She was about to bang the door of Calian Winslow's office when a figure appeared in the corridor.
Gerard appeared moments later, his expression carefully neutral. “Miss Fairchild,” he said gently, “Please come with me. Dr. Winslow has instructed that you must rest.”
“I’m not tired,” Solyn snapped. “I want answers.” She was persintent and didn't want to leave.
Gerard inclined his head slightly. “Those are not mine to give. Dr. Winslow is a reserved person. He will tell you the reason of your stay later."
"I want him to answer me right now. He has no right to keep me away from the truth..." Solyn had her eyes watery from the betrayal.
"Miss. Fairchild, please..." Gerard made a gesture for her to follow.
She followed him anyway, fury burning beneath her skin. Her room felt smaller now, the walls closing in with every step. The door shut softly behind her, the lock clicking with finality. Solyn stood staring at it, chest tight, hands curling into fists.
She grabbed her phone and called her father. It went unanswered. She called Nelson again and again. Finally, the line connected.
“What is it, Solyn?” Nelson asked, irritation, threading his voice. “Do you have any idea how many calls you’ve made? I am working.”
“You sent me to a prison,” she said, her voice breaking despite her effort to keep it steady. “You sent me to a man who won’t tell me why I’m here.”
“Lower your voice,” Nelson said sharply. “It doesn't matter if that palce seems like prison to you, you’re safe.”
“I don’t feel safe,” she cried. “I want to come home. This place is haunting and suffocating."
There was a pause. Then his tone changed, hardening. “You will stay where you are. I don't want to hear anything from you.”
Her breath hitched. “You can’t force me to live here, under the roof of an old grumpy, self-centered and egoistic man.”
“I can,” he replied coldly. “And I will. If you behave, you can continue your art. You can attend those international exhibitions. You can have your freedom. But if you make this difficult…” He hesitated only a second. “I can arrange a marriage for you. Overseas and with someone wealthy. Someone far removed from all this.”
Solyn felt like the ground had dropped out from beneath her. Her father was being too strict on her.
“You wouldn’t,” she whispered.
“I would do whatever keeps you alive,” Nelson said. “Even if you hate me for it.”
"Dad..." Solyn felt cheated.
The line went dead.
Solyn slid down against the door, sobs tearing free before she could stop them. She pressed her hands to her face, shoulders shaking, the weight of helplessness crushing her. She had never felt so small, so utterly stripped of choice. She wanted to throw all the things, but something stopped her.
"If mom were here, dad wouldn't have dared to send me into this hell." She cried to herself.
A soft knock came later.
“Dinner, Miss Fairchild,” Gerard called through the door.
"I am not hungry!" Solyn shouted from inside.
'It's an invitation from Dr. Winslow," Gerard informed her.
She wiped her face, anger hardening where grief had been. If they wanted obedience, she would give them resistance instead. She straightened and followed Gerard down to the dining hall.
Calian was already seated when she entered, posture immaculate, attention fixed on his plate. He did not look up. The silence between them was suffocating. Cutlery clinked softly. Solyn’s appetite vanished, replaced by a pulsing not of rage.
Calian finished first. He stood, adjusting his cuffs, already turning away.
“This isn’t a hotel,” he said without looking at her. “It’s my house. And you are a little dove in a golden cage. If you wish to remain unharmed, you will follow my rules.”
Her hand slammed against the table, rattling the plates. “I am not your prisoner. I don't want to eat this.”
He turned then, eyes cold. “You eat what is placed before you.”
“I won’t,” she snapped. “Not until you tell me why I’m here.”
His patience snapped. In two strides, he was beside her. His hand closed around her wrist, grip firm and unforgiving. She gasped as he hauled her to her feet.
“You don’t get to make demands here,” he said, voice low and sharp. “You are not in control.”
He dragged her down the corridor despite her resistance, her feet barely keeping pace. He opened her door, pushed her inside, and set the tray down forcefully.
“You will eat,” he said. “Or you will weaken. Either way, you stay.”
'I don't want
The door was shut. The lock turned, and he left without saying a word. Solyn screamed his name and slammed her fists against the door, panic spiraling into terror. “Let me out,” she cried. “You can’t do this.”
No answer came. Minutes passed. Then longer.
Her gaze drifted towards the window. It was open.
Her heart hammered violently as realization struck. The fall was dangerous, but staying was worse. She climbed onto the sill, hands shaking, fear, screaming at her to stop.
“I won’t be caged,” she whispered.
Then she jumped.
- Writer
