There was a screech, and the door to her cell slammed open, hitting the wall. It jolted Samia awake, like she'd been struck by lightning.
“On your feet, prisoner!” the leader of the guards snapped, flecks of spittle landing on Samia's exposed skin.
Samia stirred, then hurriedly stood at attention. She looked at the doorway; it was still dark out. Was he about to give her a late-night fucking? She was so exhausted, her legs could barely stand, never mind taking another hard pounding.
“You have a visitor.” The guard sniffed, then left his lantern in the corner. He about turned and left with the door open.
Samia stood, wondering who it might be. Reynaldo?
A man entered. He was broad-shouldered and tall. Handsome, with shiny, dark hair that fell to his shoulders where gold tassels dangled from his uniform; the crossed swords of the rank of captain above them. He wore the scarlet uniform of the empire; long jacket, black breeches with two red stripes down the side, a gold broach over the left breast.
She knew him immediately, and one look in her eyes was enough for him to recognise her. Her cheeks burned.
“Selena?” He gasped.
“Captain Roche,” she whispered, her eyes falling to the floor, wishing a hole would swallow her up and save her the embarrassment. The last couple of days, she’d felt used to being naked. Now, suddenly her cheeks burned darker than beetroots. She covered her breasts with an arm and her pussy with the other hand.
“What is this?” He covered his mouth with a white-gloved hand. “What have they done to you?”
“I…” she sighed, unable to form words that would make any sense to him. “It’s not how it looks.”
“I am sure.” He turned to the side and stared at the wall to spare her embarrassment. “I came to inspect the prisoners, since the last woman accused of prostitution died in this cell. I must tell the judge that they made a mistake. I’ll have you free in no time, Selena.”
“I…” the words escaped her again. “I am guilty of what I was accused of.”
He gasped again, both hands over his mouth now. “You cannot be serious, Selena. Please, tell me this is all a joke.”
She shook her head. “It’s not. But it's not what it seems, please trust me. There is a reason for this.”
He glanced over at her, eyes meeting hers and not straying to her naked body. He removed his jacket, placing it over her shoulders, and she slipped her arms into it, even though they came nowhere near the ends of the sleeves. She hugged it around herself for warmth and to cover her shame.
“I trust you have some plan, Selena. Even if you cannot tell me what it is, I shall still help you. First, I must free you from here. Wait here while I speak with the guards.”
“Thank you, Varga. But please, tell nobody who I am.”
He nodded, then left, and the door was locked behind him. Samia didn’t want to get his jacket dirty, but her legs were exhausted from the last two days. She laid on her side, wrapping the jacket around her. Her feet and calves were still frozen stiff.
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