Chapter Three - A cage of silk
808 Words
The door slammed shut behind her, and the echo rattled through Alessia’s bones.
The guards shoved her into a vast chamber draped with velvet and gold. Too beautiful to be a prison, yet every lock, every barred window, every silent camera gleaming in the corners made it one.
Her knees gave way. She collapsed against the bedpost, clutching the hem of Celeste’s gown as though she could tear her way out of the nightmare.
Celeste was dead.
Her sister, the cunning, flawless bride who had always seemed untouchable lay broken and bloodied on the floor of Killian’s chamber. And now the world thought she had done it.
Her cheek still stung from her father’s slap. Her father, who hadn’t even hesitated to condemn her to protect his own alliances.
“Why?” Her whisper cracked in the empty room. “Why did you leave me, Celeste?”
The note on the dresser burned in her memory. I had no choice. Forgive me.
No choice. But Alessia had been left with none at all.
Hours bled together. She paced the room like a trapped animal, testing the balcony doors only to find them bolted, rattling the window bars until her hands blistered.
Food was brought on silver trays, left untouched. Her phone, her bracelet, even the small cross she wore around her neck were gone. Stripped of everything, she was no longer Alessia D’Arcy.
She was Celeste, the bride turned murderer.
By nightfall, the silence became unbearable. Shadows flickered beyond the glass, shifting against the faint glow of the moon.
At first she thought it was her imaginary grief twisting her mind but then she saw it again. A silhouette. Watching.
Her breath quickened.
She stumbled back, heart racing, whispering to herself.
“It’s not real. It’s not real.” The lock turned. The door opened.
Killian entered. He was still in his bloodstained shirt, the bandage on his shoulder fresh. His presence filled the chamber like smoke heavy, suffocating.
His gaze cut through her, unreadable as ever. “Eat,” he ordered, gesturing to the untouched tray.
She shook her head. “You know I didn’t do it.” Her voice cracked. “You know I’m not Celeste.” His jaw tightened.
For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered not with sympathy, but with something darker. Calculation. “I know who you are,” he said.
Her breath caught. “Then tell them! Tell my father, the guards.”
He stepped closer, silencing her with a look. “Knowing is not the same as proving. And right now, your name is poison. Whether Alessia or Celeste, you are already guilty.”
Her chest heaved. “So you’re just going to let them think I killed her?”
Killian’s voice dropped to a cold whisper. “I’m going to let them believe what is convenient. That’s the only truth that survives in this world.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “You’re a monster.”
A faint smirk ghosted his lips. “And yet, you’re married to me.” He turned, leaving her shaking with rage. The door shut, the lock clicked, and she was alone again.
The fire in her chest drowned out the despair. If no one would believe her innocence, then she had only one choice: escape.
That night, as the guards’ footsteps faded down the hall, Alessia crept to the heavy drapes. She ripped the silk ties from them, fashioning a makeshift rope. Her hands trembled, but desperation gave her strength.
She doused the hem of the curtain in oil from the lamp and struck a spark. Flames leapt, devouring velvet. Smoke curled upward, thick and acrid. The alarms blared. Shouts echoed in the corridor.
Heart pounding, Alessia slipped through the chaos. She tore off her veil, grabbed an abandoned maid’s cloak from a peg, and pulled the hood low over her face.
A guard caught her arm as she rushed past. “Name?”
Her lips moved before her mind caught up. “Faye,” she whispered.
The guard cursed at the smoke and shoved her along. She ran, breathless, through the grand hall, past marble columns and spilled wine. No one looked twice at a servant fleeing fire.
The cold night air slapped her as she burst through the servant’s door into the gardens. Moonlight silvered the hedges. Beyond them lay the gate, freedom, answers. Her lungs burned as she sprinted across the lawn, bare feet pounding the earth.
For the first time that night, Alessia believed she might actually survive. But shadows moved in the trees.Something pricked her neck sharp, cold. Her body seized. The world spun.
She gasped, clawing at her skin, but her vision blurred, the ground rushing up to meet her. The last thing she saw was a figure looming above her, faceless in the dark.
Then everything went black.
- Writer
