Day four.

Certainly, this day was easier.

Having given in to the base needs of her body, Stare finally ate, much to the immense satisfaction of her keeper. Even though she only pushed at food around her plate and picked at what little her current sensitive stomach could endure, Vitruvion seemed a little easier. Naturally, she was still in an immense mood with him, stiffening the first time he came close. After that he had avoided her general vicinity, but been more watchful.

Eventually, however, the matter of the door became too much to ignore and so, when the world seemed to be quieter and a sense of evening drew closer, she spoke up.

“Okay, why the hell am I locked in here?”

He glanced up from the paper he was writing on; now part of a thick manuscript he seemed to have made. From its top page she could work out some strange forms that looked like the diagram of circles within circles, and various lines with words connection to them.

Brow furrowed somewhat he stared at her before answering; in a tense, dark voice. “You are not so much locked in here as all others are locked out.”

“You hired all those men,” she shoved a hand towards the door, “Who do you not trust?”

“Everyone,” he answered flatly. “Aside from you, Zulon and Ventrua. Now Raevin is secure, and my sister is fucking gone, so you are the last worry - do you want to me to explain to you how far I am willing to go to keep you safe, do you Stare?”

She scowled deeply, but looked away. “No you don't need to,” she replied in a foul voice. “But I'd rather that trust extended to me being able to leave this room.”

“A day ago you were not willing to leave that sofa.” He used the exact same tone.

“Yes, and I wonder whose fault that is.”

Immediately he went silent. His chest rose and fell with passionate energy. As he threw the darkest glare at her, full of a fury that she had created Stare sat up somewhat straighter, rolling back her shoulders and preparing to hold her own ground. Likewise his chin tilted up, a certain brand of pride in that arched neck and he tightened his jaw steadily.

“If you are that desperate, Stare,” he finally said after a long, exponential pause, “then when you have improved your health again, then we can arrange to go outside. Bare in mind, however, I will still not let you out of my sight, and there will be so many guards that others would suspect you were royalty.”

“I want freedom, Vitruvion, not … not this life anymore.”

“Dearest, as far as I am concerned I am keeping you from being imprisoned.”

And he was right. It seemed for her there was little choice: his cage … or Vindrexis’. Her life was not her own anymore.