As night drew near, that prickling sense of fear woke me. I looked first towards the window but the moon had yet to show itself. The absence of scratching, growling, and clawing drew my eyes to the griffon. It had lain down and rested its large head on its folded forepaws, eyes closed. Now that it wasn't biting and snapping at me, I admired the ingenuity of locking a griffon in a dungeon cell. It was common knowledge nowadays that it's impossible to lie in front of a griffon. I felt sorry for the poor creature, driven to madness and treated like a monster for the ability that makes it so grand. I knew that griffons were intelligent creatures but it would be too much to think that this one had retained its sanity.

Other thoughts drifted to me as time passed. Tkaa, my mother's friend and frequent visitor at the inn had recommended me for this post when my mother died. I spent five years training in diplomatic precedents. What would my mentor think of me now? Would all that effort go to waste? The king and queen had anticipated these turn of events and had advised me that it would be very dangerous but I had resolved to go anyway. There was a chance I would make it out alive. I patted my chest where the letter was tucked away. If I could find a way to deliver it, it would help my situation considerably. The man with the sympathetic look that I'd seen in the throne room was the queen's commander. Lord Suffrice had been the commander of the Gallan army for the previous queen and the sisters' parents as well. He was competent and wise, respected by many. Their Majesties believed their appeal would best be delivered to a head as sensible as his should be. It was tricky business, for sure. My only hope is that he hasn't been tainted by the young queen's madness.

Ah, I thought, she is a puzzle I want to solve. I had done research on Gallan's history before I'd begun my journey. It's unclear what caused her insanity; only that it started around the time her old sister, who was queen at the time, took ill. This illness kept with her until her child was born and lead to her's and the child's death. The illness was not any manner of foul play, as best our sources could tell. After she died, Talis took the throne since her sister's husband, a Lord Camorron was no where to be found. Mysteriously, one of her first acts as queen was to declare him an enemy of the country and demand that if he were discovered, he would be killed on sight. This was the first sign that her reign was to be a miserable one. It's been a year since then and it surprises me that no one has rebelled, but the spies report that Queen Talis is suspicious of everyone and keeps a very strict management of her kingdom, military enforced.

A creak came from outside my cell and the griffon shifted slightly but did not stir. My door opened soon after on oiled hinges. A young man dressed in the uniform of a kitchen servant slid a tray across the floor. He kept his eyes downcast. It infuriated me that they would let a servant open the door fully as if I was no threat. I stifled the emotion, it was useless pride. This could be used to my advantage. Somehow, I thought. I took the proffered tray and was startled to find that it was not the standard hard bread and watery soup usually doled out in prisons but a rich meal consisting of seasoned pork, buttered biscuits, and creamy mashed potatoes. They even gave me some fine silverware to eat with. A sign of goodwill or a testament to how harmless they believed me to be? I glanced at the servant again. This time I noticed that his left cheek was red in a strange square shape. He caught my eyes and looked away hastily, then slowly looked back again. Obviously he was to wait until I finished my meal. Unfortunately, I'm not so good at eating when there's someone watching me. I decided to distract myself from thinking about it so I attempted small talk.

"Did you lose a bet?" I said.

"What?" He said, looking startled.

"What does a kitchen servant do to earn prison duty? You must have lost a bet," I said, digging into my potatoes.

"Oh. It wasn't a bet. It's punishment for offending one of the assistant chefs," Some color rose to his cheeks as he said it, piquing my curiosity.

"Hmmm. Must have said something really rude or something completely true," I said, but I was thinking, this food is good!

"I…uh…commented on how nice she looked in the head chef's shirt," he said.

I nearly choked on my food. He said that? "In front of the kitchen staff?" I asked disbelievingly. He nodded sheepishly.

"Why?" Was he serious? Revealing to everyone that they'd been canoodling?

"It's really boring around here." He shifted to his other foot in the open doorway. Was that it? Laughter burst from my lips.

"Mad queen not entertaining enough?" I asked when the laughter subsided a little.

"You quickly get used to the ranting and raving," he said, bending over to pick up my empty tray. Gods, he was almost as tall as Numair! I noticed that there was a bruise forming on the red cheek now.

"Where'd you get that bruise? It looks fairly recent." He paused halfway to standing and was about level with my face from where was I sitting.

"The assistant chef was working with a spatula." I chuckled again and reached out on a whim. He stood up quickly and backed away.

"Oh right, sorry. I'm still a prisoner. I have a bit of Gift and thought I'd heal it for you as thanks."

"I'm fine." He left awkwardly and closed the door harder than he should have. Looks like I ruffled his feathers. A second later, a roar sounded that made me clap my hands over my ears. He woke the griffon, curse him.

I switched to the other corner of the room as moonlight inched through the window. Eventually, the griffon settled down again and I amused myself the rest of night remembering the stories of the wildmage and the Immortals War.

oOoOoOoOoOo

When my cell door next opened, it was the same servant. Evidently, he hadn't been forgiven. I stifled a laugh when I saw the nasty bruise still on his cheek. He shoved the tray across the floor towards me along with a sloshing basin of water. It surprises me that they're being so considerate.

He still seemed awkward as if he didn't know why he started talking with the prisoner in the first place. As much as I had welcomed the distraction our conversation last night had provided, it didn't seem like I'd be able to get him to talk. He wasn't watching me this time so I could eat my meal without worrying about him staring at me. When I finally slid the tray over to him, he took it wordlessly and closed the door—gentler this time. Maybe he felt guilty for slamming it last night. I stretched my arms above my head and washed my face with water from the basin. I let the water drip down off my chin to fall on the dirty floor as I considered what I'd have to do today. There was the letter that still needed to be delivered and a back-up plan to be hatched in case the letter failed. I thought about asking the servant to deliver the message when he came around for lunch but quickly discarded the idea. I couldn't trust that he wouldn't read the contents. I was debating the chances of bird calling a messenger pigeon to my cell window—an infamous ploy that had been done by a well-known rogue that nobody seems to remember the name of—when I heard the tell-tale creak that meant someone was coming into the dungeon. It was only a half hour after the servant had left, judging by the light outside, so it couldn't be lunch.

A god or goddess must have smiled on me. My letter didn't have very far to its destination. Commander Suffrice opened the wooden door and led me to a wobbly table with two wobbly chairs.

"Have a seat," he said. I expected his voice to be loud and powerful and was surprised to hear him almost croaking the words. I looked closely at his face as I sat down. His skin was aged and there were deep wrinkles above his brow. The man had lived a serious life, I judged.

"Sir, I have a letter for you from Their Majesties, Queen Thayet and King Jonathan," I said. I felt a bit of heat in my ears as I reached into my tunic to retrieve it. I should have moved it when I had the opportunity. I glanced at him as I handed the letter across the table. His posture was stiff as he took it from me. He opened and perused the contents for about a third of time it should have taken to read the letter completely. Either he was a really fast reader or a decision had already been made.

"I know why you came. Had I known you were but a teenage girl, I would have found another way to satisfy the queen," he sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "It's too late now. I convinced the queen to spare your escort. They've been delivered to the city safely where I presume they'll try to rescue you before tomorrow or during the execution. But I'm sorry, Miss Cerri, you can't be rescued."

My heart fluttered with fear. Calm down, I thought, there might still be a chance.

"May I ask why I can't be spared as well?" I said as steadily as I could manage.

"The queen is absolutely adamant about your death. She's obsessed with this war plan of hers. Any deviations from it send her into a rage, as you saw yesterday. If I were to let you go and tell her you escaped, it might drive her further into madness. That is something I cannot allow. I'm sorry, truly sorry," he said sincerely. He passed the letter back to me and left with weighted steps. A guard that had accompanied him guided me back to my cell. I sat down in my corner, barely registering the griffon's resumed antics, and stared at opposite wall with the letter clenched in my hand. I felt frozen. I didn't realize how much I'd been depending on that letter to come through. Instead of chatting with the enemy's servants, I should have been planning an escape. If I die tomorrow, I'll have no one to blame but myself.

I was still in that position when the servant came around again a few hours later. He opened the door and took the basin. Then he slid the tray over to me. Instead of leaning against the doorway again, he reached around the door and grabbed a haunch of beef which he threw to the griffon. Then took up the position he normally did and waited for me to eat. I noticed all this distantly. I still didn't move. I sat there for a while just staring at the food.

"Odd time to start acting like a prisoner," the servant said. I finally moved just so I could see his expression. He looked like a person out of their element.

"If prisoners have no hope, I suppose I am acting like one," I said sadly as I threw the letter into the opposite corner. I wanted to be alone now. I ate quickly and passed the tray to him. He took it but stopped suddenly before leaving.

"You must have known something like this would happen when you came here so I have ask; why? Why come?" His back was to me and I could see his shoulders were tense.

I considered his question. Why did I come with this possible fate hanging over me? Was it for my country? No, that's not it. So those I loved wouldn't have to risk their lives in a brutal war? In part. Then I realized that I mostly came for myself. To prove that despite my condition, I could accomplish something worthwhile.

"To prove something," I told him. He nodded, closed the door, and left.