Countervalued

"Where are you taking me?" She demanded, thrusting her small amount of weight towards her captor, pulling against the tight chains that bound her limbs. Her voice sounded hoarse and foreign in her ears, reminding her of how long she had been imprisoned.1

A cruel smile and a mock wave of goodbye met her feral growling and struggle. The captor was a tall woman with dark brown hair that reached her mid back, making her a rather extraordinarily beautiful woman, but with harsh lines and contours distorting her gentle features. With a flick of the captor's wrist, the guards slammed the prisoner into the back of the cell wall, knocking her into unconsciousness.2

"Let's see if your prince will save you now," the captor spoke regally, twisting her long claws into a strong fist. Her maniac laughter caused an eerie chill to consume the prison's labyrinth-like corridors, as she signaled her guards to follow her out.3

The captor was no ordinary woman, and her high cheekbones and chin parallel to the stone she marched upon were only the tip of the iceberg as evidence to her identity. Fear was ebbing and flowing in her, like gentle waves upon a beach's shore. Despite her front to her prisoner, the young captor feared of the prince.4

No, the prince wasn't legendary, she knew, smiling slightly at the thought. It wasn't the prince's skill that frightened her, for she wasn't scared easily. Her thoughts halted for a moment when she started hearing those ear-shattering screams that echoed so dangerously that it made her uneasily wonder if this underground prison would cave in. Music filled her ears as she heard the loud slabs of whips against the backs of whom she knew used to be some of the toughest criminals of her country.5

Her dark heart became much lighter, as she realized that the prince could never, ever beat her. Even as a child, she reminded herself, she had always bested her brother.