Lyra left the cell as if wading along the bottom of the ocean. The residual pounding of her heart offered a chaotic beat to the syllables of her disjointed thoughts as they tried to come together on a theory. Amaris hadn't harmed her since their first encounter. She'd tried to make her laugh. She asked how she was treated. She certainly seemed to enjoy making Lyra squirm, but she had yet to resemble the monster Lyra met on her first day.
Lyra's stomach turned. She grit her teeth. If she had believed it would help, she would have punched her own chest. She was beginning to feel she might actually be an exception to the fate her position guaranteed. That wouldn't do. Lyra knew better than to imagine herself as exceptional through any eyes. It was the most reliable way in which Lyra routinely broke her own heart.
She certainly wasn't going to start up that old habit again now. Every interpretation of her conversations with Amaris which led to conclusions of her actually mattering were foolishly optimistic. She didn't even matter to other humans; she couldn't possibly matter to a dragon.
Lyra groaned as this was difficult to reconcile with her experiences. She refused to be fooled by the light filtering down from above. Intense as the weight upon her was, she knew if she were to try to swim, she would only find a layer of ice trapping her beneath the surface. Everything she'd called hope in her efforts would ferment to despair; the most agonized souls in hell are those who thought they would see heaven.
When she failed once more to make sense of Amaris's behavior without floating toward the surface and having to drag herself back, Lyra decided to distract herself from one conundrum with another; she was exhausted. She needed somewhere to nap, especially if she was to be wide awake at three. She certainly wasn't going to sleep during the day in front of Amaris; such a thing could be interpreted as not taking her duties seriously.
Lyra absently drifted to the kitchen. She grabbed a large loaf of bread and pulled the tablecloth off the table, snatching a cooking timer out of a chef's hand. He glanced at his oil-stained clothes and did not protest. Lyra set up in the corner of the kitchen, using the bread as a pillow and setting the timer before curling up under the tablecloth as the chefs just gawked at the scene. Lyra fell asleep quickly, wanting to cry when the timer went off and she groggily climbed to her feet.
A guard in plainclothes sat at the table, staring blankly at her while eating a bowl of oatmeal. She wiped drool off her face. "What?" She demanded. He looked away. "That's what I thought." Lyra tossed the bread she'd used as a pillow on top of his bowl before returning to her duties.
When Lyra brought the loaded cart into Amaris's cell, she was stunned to see Amaris sleeping by the entrance. "Leave it. I am not ready to be woken," she muttered at the sound of Lyra's footsteps, "I wish to be well-rested. I look forward to the early morning." She shifted slightly and fell silent once more. Lyra obliged quietly as she could, shaking slightly.
This was the last meal she was sure she would walk away from. Amaris was certainly looking forward to the next meal. Unease threatened to knock her off her feet as she wondered what horrible things Amaris could intend for her. Her previous inclination to feel any optimism was effectively banished by now. Amaris saw her as a mouse, and was batting her around like a bored cat. The time was drawing near to go for the kill.
By the time Lyra returned to the kitchen again, enough time had passed since she'd gorged herself at breakfast that she was hungry again. Lyra entered as the chefs finished up preparing dinner for the servants, giving dismayed glances at her back as she immediately began making a mess.
Lyra began scrambling eggs while the chefs left. A few servants arrived to scrub the surfaces clean. They glared at the spread of cookware and food across the surfaces. Although the majority of it was left from the chefs, the look in their eyes placed the entirety of it on Lyra. "I'll be out of your way soon," Lyra muttered.
"Not soon enough," one scoffed quietly to the other as they left, "I can't believe we're just letting her be a menace until that thing eats her."
Lyra scowled. Now that she hated the specific person in charge of cleaning it up, she decided to leave the mess out when she was done. She hardly had an hour without antagonization before she recognized the captain who had retrieved the hollow guard earlier sauntering into the kitchen. "Something smells amazing..." he glanced at the table Lyra had begun to pile with food.
"Ooh, making a feast? Need any help eating this delicious bounty?" He asked excitedly. Lyra didn't like the familiarity in his tone, given how rude he was the last time she saw him; he hadn't earned the right to speak to her as if they were friends.
"No," Lyra said flatly, without looking up from the vegetables she chopped.
"Cold. Whatever I have done to anger such a fair maiden, I am truly so—"
"Fair? I thought you called me interesting when you sized me up like cattle. Just because you refused to acknowledge me didn't make me deaf." Lyra gave him the same loathsome look as she did before, hoping it would jog his memory so he would leave.
"Allow me to start over. Truth be told, you're rather bewitching. I like a strong woman..." His eyes moved over Lyra in a way which made her cross her arms over her breasts to press them flat as she could against her chest.
"Nope," Lyra snapped. She turned away. If he was going to be weird about it she just wasn't going to look at him at all. Already the absence of his face from her vision soothed her slightly.
"So I made one subpar comment and you'll give me no chance with you?" The captain demanded, "I'll have you know women fawn over me. I can have my pick of them all and tonight I've chosen you."
"Gross. Pick someone else."
"Gross? I am the captain of the royal guard! You should be grateful I would waste my time on a peasant like you!"
"So we agree this is a waste of time, and you should stop talking to me."
"You should quit being so combative and realize what an opportunity you're passing up!"
"What part of this is supposed to be winning me over? Because I'm hating you more with every syllable."
"What if I could get you released?" The captain said with a smirk as it caught Lyra's attention. She turned slowly to stare for a moment.
"Are you actually able to do that?"
"I'm sure I could get strings pulled for my mistress."
Lyra gagged. "Oh, so I have to sleep with you if I wanna be saved from the dragon. Wow. Fuck off, you absolute piece of filth." She said it with a smile on her lips and murder in her eyes.
"I offer you freedom, a night of passion, and you call me filth? Are you stupid? Do you want to be eaten by a dragon?"
"I'm not stupid, so I know your little stunt here goes one of three ways, the most likely being everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie crafted to get me to sleep with you, and you fully intend to let me die. The second is ok
that you intend to release me, you have your fun, your superiors tell you I can't be released, and you just kinda shrug and let me die. The third is that you actually can release me, and you're completely content to just let me die if I don't obey you. To be honest, I think I hate the third the most. If you truly could save my life but won't unless you get something out of it, you're the type of filth I'd rather die than touch."
"Would life truly be so horrible as the spoiled mistress of an accomplished, celebrated, noble and brave captain of the guard?"
"Only if he talks in third person to brag about himself," Lyra said.
"Well at least let me sample some of this delicious food you've prepared," the captain said. He pulled out a chair in front of a plate piled high with eggs. Lyra scowled. He intended to plant himself there and continue jabbering away until Lyra became too tired to argue and simply entertained him. Lyra made sharp eye contact as she slowly pushed the plate off the table, allowing it to shatter at his feet.
"What do you mean delicious? It's full of glass and dirt," Lyra said as she glanced down at the mess on the floor, "Although if you ate it in this state I'm sure that would be ideal for everyone else."
"I offer you kindness, to save your life, even, on what may be your final day and you—"
"Yeah, I don't need a recap."
"Why are you being such a bitch?"
"I was about as pleasant as I get the first time I rejected you. You're the one who kept bothering me. If you don't like my attitude, blame yourself. And by the way, I'm only insulted you called me a bitch because I was aiming for fucking nightmare."
"You'll regret having such a mouth," the captain said with a scowl. Lyra knocked over the glass of punch in front of him so the bright red liquid ran over his groin. He exclaimed at the sight of something that looked vaguely like menstruation and scurried off to remove the offending article from his manly body.
"Captain's on the rag!" She heard a voice boom to uproarious laughs after he left. Lyra rolled her eyes; it was a pathetic thing to laugh over. Still, any laughter at that man's expense was laughter she'd welcome, and she relished the sound.
Hours passed and at midnight, Lyra was sealed off in this portion of the castle alone. Once she had privacy, Lyra made quick work of clearing some counter space and began flipping through a small notebook of recipes.
Following the recipe exactly, Lyra began to prepare the cake. She gave herself as much time as possible to do so, which she was thankful for. Some idiot had left the salt in a large unmarked container that made it look a lot like sugar to another idiot. This was not noticed until the first monstrosity left the oven, cooled, and was sampled. Lyra tossed the failed attempt into the garbage and started over, tasting the sugar to confirm it was sugar before using it this time.
Once the cake was in the oven, Lyra set about the easiest part of the task, which was simply retrieving two carts and duplicating the chicken to fill one. She retrieved the carts from downstairs, relieved to learn the enchantment upon them made the task simple. She then took a chicken from the icebox, and set it on the counter. It had been beheaded and plucked, but not broken down further, and dripped blood. Lyra knew this was what Amaris requested, but if this meal was supposed to be something Amaris had waited thousands of years for, it seemed offensively plain.
Lyra glanced at the clock. She wasn't much of a baker, so she could only hope to make a cake as good as the recipe she had in front of her. She always preferred to cook savory things, and considered herself at least good, if not great at it. Deciding she had time before the cake was ready to frost and be duplicated anyway, Lyra began to prowl the spice cabinets. She selected an enticing-smelling oil, and some spices. She mixed together a mouthwatering seasoning mix.
Careful to coat it evenly, Lyra glazed the chicken with a thin coat of the oil before evenly applying the spices. Once she was satisfied the chicken had been seasoned nicely, she duplicated it, gawking at the sheer number of chickens which piled upon the cart. As she examined them, she wished Amaris hadn't specified that they be bloody. This was as much as she could doctor raw chicken, but she could make them exquisite given the proper time in the oven. She never was a fan of presenting anything she wasn't certain had met its full potential, but this was what was requested.
Lyra's skin crawled out of nowhere. She glanced around. All alone. No reason to fear, yet something felt wrong. As if something lurked. It wasn't unlike when she brought Amaris her first meal.
Lyra heard the massive doors unlock, and slowly creak open. Dread filled her, coming from a deep instinctual well of panic. "Hey fucking nightmare, you still down here?" The captain's voice demanded of the empty halls. Lyra immediately became aware of how alone she was. She grabbed a carving knife, hiding it behind her back. It wouldn't stand up against armor, but the element of surprise could allow her to exploit the narrow gap between his helmet and shoulder.
Footsteps approached. "I'm not giving up on you. I thought we could spend some time alone," he told the emptiness. Lyra took a step to move to a portion of the kitchen which would allow herself more mobility and make her position less obvious upon entry as fire burned her throat. She was condemned to death at the hands of a dragon already. It wasn't getting any worse.
Lyra's hip slammed into the counter. "You in the kitchen?" The captain's voice pried at the sound. The footsteps moved closer. Lyra paused, ready to strike without showing it. The door to the kitchen was kicked open and the captain sauntered in. Lyra's face paled. He already had his sword drawn; unfortunately more guarded than Lyra anticipated. She supposed the silence of voices and clatter of motion was suspicious. "Oh. Hey," The captain smiled in a way that was supposed to be alluring. Lyra almost retched. "Waiting for me?"
Lyra affixed an intimidating glare to her face. "Fuck off."
"There's that mouth again. So it's just us, then?" He closed the door. Lyra intensified the loathing in her stare. She didn't respond. She was calculating her attack. He wasn't wearing his armor. His sword had been held loftily by his side since he recognized her; she wasn't perceived as a threat. That would be the mistake which ended him. The flames rose to her mouth as she grit her teeth. "What, no protests? Wonderful." Lyra hated the sound of his voice.
"I said fuck off," Lyra hissed. The captain raised an eyebrow.
"That's rude, seeing as I've just caught you stealing an insane amount of food," he gestured with the sword to the cart of chickens which was still filling, "Maybe I ought to punish—"
Lyra's jaw dropped. The captain had stopped so suddenly it was if a flame was blown out. His eyes were blank. His sword clattered to the floor with cacophony that could not thwart his silence as his arms flopped to his sides. He muttered something under his breath. Lyra knew it was the same utterance as the hollow guard before, but now the sound was not concealed by white noise. It was clear as when Amaris spoke it with glowing eyes.
Lyra didn't have much time to gawk or wonder before he quickly turned around and walked out of the kitchen. The captain seemed to be in the same trance as the hollow guard. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen the hollow guard around since his trance. Curious, Lyra brought the carving knife with her, grabbing the discarded sword in her other hand as she followed the captain from a cautious distance.
He was off-balance as he walked, staring blankly ahead without emotion, taking no heed of Lyra as she followed. "Where are you going?" She asked.
"I have to go to her." He didn't so much as glance back as he spoke. He turned and walked in the direction of Amaris's cell. It looked like he should have fallen over, the way his balance shifted as he turned. It was as if strings held him up, his feet touching the ground only for visual effect. The way he descended the stairs was deeply unsettling to witness.
"Stop right there," Lyra said, wondering if this trance would allow her to boss him around as he'd bossed the hollow guard around, "And go... dunk your head in the toilet first." For a moment she wished she'd had more time to think of a more humiliating command, but knew deep down she would have settled upon the same command given weeks to mull it over.
"Disobedience toward you will not arise suspicion," the captain said as he paced for the door to Amaris's cell. Lyra frowned for a moment, her heart having risen at the spectacle she hoped to witness. She hid against the wall beside the doors as the captain pulled them open, peering into the cell as he strode in.
"You're not Lyra," Amaris's voice hissed from the darkness, then roared, "Where is she?" The rage left sparks in the air, "I won't accept any replacements. Send her back or I'll eat every human on sight from now on! Is your death row even long enough to sustain feeding me three humans a day?" Her voice was a growl, but wavered with uncertainty that her threat carried adequate gravity.
Amaris did not step out of the shadows. She banished them as her entire body ignited in brilliant flames, bathing the cell in searing blue light. The growl she released was more terrifying than when she had attacked Lyra. It was far more vicious, threatening not only to kill, but in the worst ways possible. "Why do you not fetch her immediately?" Amaris roared, the pitch rising, "What have you done with her?"
There was a long pause in which Amaris awaited a response, and the captain just stared blankly. Amaris finally seemed able to pull her focus from her rage, to noting the captain's expression. "Oh... I see. Your're not here to herald her absence... She will be back soon..." Amaris looked about as relieved now as she was angry earlier, her tone softening. The fire covering her body disappeared.
Her calm expression didn't last long; she only took a moment to think of this before she turned her gaze back to the captain. Her eyes filled with loathing the moment they settled upon him. "What did you intend to do to her?" Amaris growled, prowling toward him with bared teeth. Her mouth glowed as fire burned in her throat. Flames began to escape her jaws with every breath. The captain was too hollow to respond to the death which approached. He just stared blankly, and obediently opened his mouth to answer in a monotone, "I intended to r—" Amaris's teeth pierced his torso from either side and the crunching of his ribs punctuated his words. Amaris swallowed, and with a flick of her tail the doors to her cell slammed shut.
Lyra was frozen in place for a moment, mind reeling, room spinning. She started hurrying back to the kitchen. She wasn't sure of anything right now, other than the concrete. She was asked for chickens and cake. She was going to bring back chickens and cake.