PeaceMaker

Chapter 209 - Condition

WARNING SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Boris turned to her and stared down at her blankly. "What do you think is going to happen to you?" he asked, his thumb raising up to his neck and he swiped it across.

Claudia flinched as she looked up into his eyes. They were cold, like they meant what they had said. She trembled. She could never tell what was going on in his mind. Even though she got to see him at least twice a week and stare into his eyes, she never learned anything when they would meet gazes. They were always blank. 

Uncaring. 

"V-Very funny…" Claudia mumbled, leaning back from the jail cell to the middle of the cell where she looked back up at Boris. 

"What makes you think I was joking?" Boris asked his head cocking to the side as peered at her, "isn't that what you wanted? Death? I'd only be granting you a favor by killing you afterall."

Claudia sat down quietly avoiding Boris' gaze. 

Boris watched her for a bit and then walked towards her, sitting down on the stool. "Don't tell me…" he began, his eyes running up and down Claudia again, "...Mrs. Kill-me-now wants to live?"

Claudia flinched, her eyes looking up to meet Boris. "No… it's hell here. I'd rather leave."

"Would you like to leave through death?" Boris asked his head tilting to the side teasingly, "like I said, can help you with that. Execution is something that hasn't been done here in a while as royals would rather leave you in the cell forever till you die."

Claudia looked away slightly as the next cell over then back to Boris. 

"Of course I'm sure living in this hell on the edge of living and dying is meanly tormenting you but since when did you," Boris stopped, eyeing her down, "want to live?"

"I'll be a bargaining chip aren't I?" Claudia interrupted, cutting the conversation short. "The only link between getting my country to bow to your will right?"

A golden gaze pierced her eyes, staring straight into her soul. She trembled once again, looking away from Boris. "Yes," Boris replied, "the perfect bargain chip in a pretty dress. Who wouldn't want you back right?"

"You know they wouldn't," Claudia muttered. 

"That's why we're going to do it," Boris replied immediately standing up from his chair, "You are the perfect bargaining chip afterall." Claudia stared back at him, her eyebrows furrowed to which Boris shrugged. "Think whatever you want of it, you have all the time to do so in here."

Claudia rolled her eyes and shifted to the corner of the cell where she had been in the beginning. "When?"

"Who knows," Boris shrugged.

"That's what he's going to go and figure out right now," a voice interrupted from near the staircase. Boris and Claudia turned to see Kalmin who walked towards them with his quick perfectly sized strides to Boris' side. 

He turned to the golden gaze and bowed. "You are requested for the meeting, your highness."

Boris nodded and looked back down at Claudia, turning to Kalmin. "Take care of that would you?"

Kalmin nodded his head and Boris immediately began his walk to the staircase, his steps echoing down to the floor as he walked up the cold steps. He was up by two stairs when he turned back and looked at Claudia. "And you… think about what you really want," he muttered, "I don't think you've grown to hate these walls."

Claudia looked up at him with her violet eyes and they both watched him walk up the stairs, and when he was out of sight, their gazes met each other. It was almost like lightning passed their gaze, hatred for each other shining in their eyes. 

"What did you say to his highness?" Kalmin asked, sitting down on the stool in front of Claudia. 

"You can just ask him if you're so curious,"

"Don't think you're something worth a conversation topic,"

"Then I don't think my words are of any use to you either then," Claudia snapped back. 

Kalmin sat comfortably on the seat and pulled out a book, beginning to read it. His eyes were almost attached to the pages, like they had already forgotten her presence. 

The room felt colder. 

"How long are you going to be here for?"

"Till I feel the need to leave,"

"Don't you feel repulsed by my presence?"

"If you know," Kalmin's eyes peered over the top of his book, looking down on Claudia. They were empty and painfully apathetic. It was almost as if he saw her as a misbehaving dog, barking loudly as he tried to read. "...then shut up so you don't seem more prominent to me."

Claudia sighed and leaned back into her wall, her eyes looking up at the gray, stoned ceiling. Her questions lingered on her lips, being almost afraid to come out and reach Kalmin's ears. Instead, she gave up her words and just closed her eyes. 

Boris' question reached her mind. 

'Not grown to hate these walls?' she thought to herself, 'how ridiculous that is.' She hated these walls. The way they were always there when she woke up, the way they always held the same rustiness, the way the air was always cold when she woke. 

And the way she woke up, to begin with. 

Death was something she longed for, something she would snatch up immediately if she had a choice. She was well aware that if she ever got to get out of this frozen hell, her first thought would be to kill herself. Afterall, she had lost all her worth. She was no longer a princess and even less, a formidable bait.

She was better off buried 6 feet below where no one could reach her, and where she could reach no one. Spinning in limbo, spinning down to hell. 

That was her future. She was well aware of it every time she opened her eyes and she looked down at her thin frame. She was well aware every time she would look down at the new dress on her body and her long hair that flowed down to her legs now. Every time she would look into the eyes of the guard that watched her, and observe how disgusted their gaze became, she knew that was what she was meant to do. 

But then why did she hesitate when he mentioned death. 

'Grown to not hate these walls?' she thought to herself, 'then did I grow to like them? Impossible.' 

But when she had hesitated it seemed like she had. Like every time she woke up to the walls she didn't feel hate specifically neither fondness. Just… acceptance?

She opened her eyes and looked at the bars of the jail cell. 'I'm...used to this? Is that what he meant?' she thought to herself as a sigh leaves her lips. 'That's not it…' she muttered, 'if he's saying that I don't hate them, but I don't like them and I'm not used to them either, then what am I?'

Acknowledgment. 

She had grown to acknowledge the fact that the cell was there. Not the fact that she was stuck in it, or the rushes of hate she felt when she looked at the guard that was able to move freely, it was the fact that it was around her. 

She was no longer filled with just the thoughts of dying there in her cage or infatuated with thoughts about how she would kill herself if she got out. She was now aware of where she was. Not here she hated to be. 

'The palace deep underground,' she thought to herself, 'that is where I am and where I will continue to be. But then… does that mean that I don't want to die now? That once given the chance to leave, I'd run out and try to live my life?'

Her thoughts paused at once as her heart skipped a beat. 

'I've been conditioned,' she thought to herself, her eyes growing wider in disbelief. 'I've been trained and conditioned the entire time I've been in here…. How did I not notice?' 

The reason why she was in the cell, the reason why she wasn't killed. The reason why she would be the perfect bargain chip, was because she was already being used against her will. Her mind was being bent against her will. 

It started with the cold temperature being the perfect mix to keep her both alive and on the verge of death. From there in her constant stage of just- living blankly, her mind was bent to think in guided ways. The reason she wanted to live was not a product of herself, but the factors that were being placed around her at the same time. The guard reminded her of the life she could have, the dress she wore was always a constant reminder of how she was used and the environment gave her the silence to think. 

The silence to get her thoughts so tangled she wouldn't know what she really thought anymore.

'That fucker…' Claudia thought as she chortled weakly, 'what a fucked up person.'

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