She came in wearing her usual smile and look of curiosity mixed with nervousness. Immediately he noticed the bruise covering the left side of her face. Mottled purple and blue, it looked swollen as well. As she moved towards him with his regular fare of mush and a hard chunk of bread, her eyes flitted all around the room. She would not look at him.
Sitting before him on the dirty stone floor, as if the constant filth of his cell didn’t bother her, she spooned some of the mush from the bowl and held it out for him. He took a small bite and studied her.
“Someone hit you.”
She frowned and brought up a hand to cover her face. “Oh…it was nothing. I just…” she looked away, embarrassed.
Their eyes met and she blushed.
“It’s just so embarrassing. I was cleaning in the kitchen…and I knocked over the pot with tonight’s soup in it, for the sultan. Cook backhanded me, rightly so, and I fell.” She shook her head and mumbled, “So stupid.”
He studied her face for a moment, while she stared at his food. Finally she spoke again, “You must eat before it gets cold.”
He snorted. “You know, after two months down here, I still haven’t figured out what it is they’re feeding me.”
She looked down at the bowl of lumpy, beige goo, and then up at him with pity. “I’m not sure you truly want to know.”
He laughed heartily. “No, lass, I don’t.”
[This is totally unedited...just a little scene that's been playing in my head since these two characters popped up. I do have a story outline for them, but who knows when that will pan out...but they've been bumping around in my head now for a few weeks. I didn't read back over this (because I should be writing a paper), sooo, it's not that great. But it's a start!]
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