Kahlan followed as a maidservant showed her to a guestroom, opening the door and stammering over her words as she ushered the Mother Confessor into the quarters. Kahlan smiled at the young girl, offering her thanks before sending her off.
The day had been long and hard, Kahlan's throat hoarse from yelling at the ignorant woman for hours. Surprisingly, the Mord'Sith had said nothing to her, staying silent in the background as she observed her surroundings. Kahlan doubted a Mord'Sith would leave her pet for such an extended period of time, and came to the conclusion that she did not have a victim hidden somewhere in the deep corridors of the palace. At least that thought was somewhat comforting.
Queen Victoria having her own Mord'Sith, however, was not.
Kahlan sighed as she sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her boots off and glancing at the dressings the maidservants had left her. A light peach night gown made of silk. Despite the queen's resistant attitude, she seemed to step lightly around upsetting the Mother Confessor. The day had consisted of Victoria defending D'Hara while Kahlan degraded it. No matter what Kahlan said, the woman would not listen to reason - even going as far to say that D'Hara had her best interests at heart. The queen glared at her when she had laughed. Kahlan had insisted the argument wasn't over, and the queen offered her a room - one of great extravagance, she assured, to make sure the Mother Confessor was in high comfort. The disdain in her voice made Kahlan want to backhand her.
The maidservant had brought in some warm tea, suggesting that if she drank it, her throat would feel much better. Kahlan nodded her appreciation and took the drink in her hands, sipping it gingerly as her features flinched when the warm liquid moved it's way down her sore throat. The maidservant scurried out, fear spreading across her face.
Kahlan hated that people were scared of her every action, even though the reaction was something she was raised to grow accustomed to. Kahlan set the cup down as she picked up the night gown, frowning as she noticed the dropping neckline - the short cut of the fabric, sure to expose much of her thighs. She would have tossed the garment aside if it weren't for how disgusting she felt. She had moved steadily for four days before she arrived at Harvelway, having little to wash with. Although the night gown was promiscuous, Kahlan supposed it didn't matter - no one would see her in it anyway. It was just like Queen Victoria to provide her with a garment such as this. She sighed once again as she started peeling off her white dress, the corset and under dress discarded to the nearest chair to join her other clothing. She grabbed a small cloth out of the wash basin, sucking in a breath when the cold water hit her skin. She quickly washed herself as thoroughly as she could before slipping on the peach silk, suddenly feeling very naked.
She glanced over to the mirror, surprised at what she saw. The gown hugged her body, leaving very little to the imagination. She was curvier than Queen Victoria, more toned and strong. Kahlan shook her head at the sight of her in such a revealing dress, splashing water on her face as she shook her hair, letting it fall from the small tie that held a few strands away from her face. She grabbed the nearest brush and started brushing out her tangles, her curls. Before long, her hair was no longer curled, but held a slight wave instead. She took one last look of the gown before climbing under the covers, resting her head on the pillow and turning to look out the nearest window.
She should be tired. She was not.
Kahlan stayed motionless in the bed until she heard the sounds of the palace die down, all returning to their rooms for sleep. However, Kahlan was still fully alert. Something was bothering her, but she couldn't pinpoint it. She clenched her eyes shut and suddenly regretted letting the maidservant come in shortly after she had surrounded herself in the bedding, allowing the woman to take her clothes and wash them for her to wear in the morning. She looked around the room, searching for a suitable covering and finding nothing.
She got out of the bed, moving around the room to find some abandoned article of clothing that would cover her more, but finding none. She finally decided to grab the lightest blanket she could find and draped it around her shoulders, wrapping it tightly around her body. Despite her best efforts, the fabric still left much of the skin of her thighs exposed. She slid her feet into the soft slippers that were provided and opened the door, peering out to see if anyone was roaming the halls at this late hour. No one was.
Kahlan stepped out lightly, quickly realizing that the slippers made no sound against the marble. She sighed in relief as she began moving down the corridor. If this kingdom was so intent on showing it's wealth, Kahlan was intent on observing every bit of it. She shuffled down the hall, the crisp night air nipping at her skin. The ventilation was one good thing about Havelway - the palace was covered in windows, opened and closed at all times during the day to provide a desired temperature. Although scantily clad, Kahlan welcomed the chilly weather.
Before long, Kahlan found herself rather lost. The effects of sleep were starting to overcome her senses, and she had forgotten exactly what routes she had taken to get to where she was. She continued to walk down the hall, wrapping the blanket even tighter around her as she entered the lower levels of the palace.
It smelled slightly - like burnt flesh. The air was heavier and thicker, causing Kahlan to cough slightly as she moved deeper. The doors were a dark wood, heavy locks on the outside of each one. Kahlan heard a soft moaning coming from one of the rooms and she approached the door - surprisingly finding it unlocked. She grasped the handle, gently pushing forward.
When she fully entered the room, the sight took the air from her lungs. A man was hanging from the ceiling, his hands shackled above his head, which was hanging forward. His body was covered in bruises and blood, the previously white walls having a slight red stain in certain places.
The Mord'Sith was keeping a victim.
She let out a breath she had been holding, causing the man to stir slightly, lifting his head slowly. His right eye was swollen shut, blood leaking from his lips. There was a bruise on his left cheek. When he looked at her, she saw his chest stop moving.
She took a step forward, her grip on the blanket loosening. She recognized this man. But from where? Although she couldn't see his right eye, she noticed how his left eye reacted towards her. It was a dark shade of brown, filling with moisture. A mixture of fear and joy ran across his features.
Her eyes grew in shock. This was the man that she had saved a year ago.