Samia goes with the Guards

Samia looked around for an escape, but there was nowhere easy to get in and out of. There’d be no way to lose them.

She walked towards the two guards, trying her best to look sweet and innocent.

“Hold out your hands,” the other man said, his tone demanding.

“Excuse me?”

“Hold out your hands in front of you, so we can shackle them. Are you deaf?”

“But…” her heart caught in her throat, “are you arresting me? What have I done wrong?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know, whore. Prostitution is illegal here in Jocia. Now hold out your hands or we’ll have to use ****.”

Samia’s eyes nearly filled with tears; this felt like Vernia all over again. She approached the two men, her hands out in front of her. The pair of shackles were connected as one piece of metal that held the wrists tightly together. The steel folded over at the top and was locked.

She was grabbed harshly by the elbow and led away.

Samia was dragged through the streets to the castle, where she was led down what seemed like an endless spiral stairway to the cells beneath. She was shoved inside, the shackles left on her wrists.

She sat on the bench, trying to get comfortable.

“You’ll be sentenced by the judge in the morning, whore.”