The Girl in Cell 3 (Triple Witching Hour)

Every day SABLE talks to her knight in shining armor, EREN. She says sweet words, tugging at his heart, hoping to steal it. But there is always a barrier between them - a prison cell door. EREN has struck a deal: keep her locked up and his little brother will be out of harms way.

Her cell is inescapable and her placement on death row rises fast. She aims to seduce him and have him break her out. But when truths and lies become one, can she deceive his heart without breaking her own?

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51. Chapter 50 - Marcus

Marcus woke up in the morning. Or was it afternoon? He wasn’t even sure anymore. There are many ups and downs in life, and you just keep on going, and no matter what you do, never let the work you do in the barracks catch up to your life without the uniform. 


He got up and washed his face. Ever since the shift schedule in the prison began to change randomly, his sleeping patterns had been off. Sometimes he would sleep like a log and sometimes he would stay awake all night. 


Today was one of those night when he couldn’t sleep. And it wasn’t because of a shift schedule change. 


“Ugh,” he groaned. Was everything that had happened yesterday a dream? He wasn’t sure. 


“Break me out and I will become your wife.” 


A bold proposal. 


“Love can be learned with time.” 


Callous pragmatism. 


He recalled her golden eyes, the unwavering expression on her face. Was it a dream, he asked himself again.
 


Did he hope that it might have been a dream? Or did he hope that it was all real? 


Marcus shook his head. 


He opened the door to his room and headed downstairs. Ever since arriving in King’s Pride, he had rented a small bedroom on the upper floor of a tavern. He and the owner came from the same village and that was why the owner had provided him this room for a discounted rate. In return, Marcus had agreed to sit in his uniform at a table on rowdy nights so that drunkards would be less inclined to cause trouble. 


“Good morning,” he greeted Anna, the barmaid. 


“Good morning,” she smiled. “The usual breakfast?” 


“Yes, thank you.” 


Marcus sat down and minutes later the food was served: two cooked eggs, two slices of ham, a thick slice of dark bread and a pint of ale. 


“Are you all right?” Anna asked. She put her hands on the table, leaned down and got a close look at his face. 


Marcus instinctively glanced at her cleavage and then averted his gaze. He could smell the scent of her disheveled blonde hair. She had washed it this morning.


“You’ve got bags under your eyes,” she commented. 


“Long shift at the barracks,” he grunted. 


Anna turned her back to him and continued with her cleaning work. 


Marcus observed Anna while she did her work. Life would be so much easier if he married a girl like her. He could continue his job at the barracks, then they could settle in King’s Pride, have two or three or four or maybe five children and then grow old together. 


What would life with a witch be like? Marcus gazed into the depths of his mug and tried to imagine it. They wouldn’t be able to live in King’s Pride. No, they would have to flee. He would be branded as a traitor and they would need to hide deep in the forests. 


And then what?


They would have to spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders, always afraid that someone from King’s Pride might recognize them. 


A life of fear was not worth living. 


And living with a witch...as husband and wife — what was that like? Would she use her magic to cook, to hunt and to craft weapons? Witches could fly — right? Yes, Marcus concluded. Witches could fly. Maybe. 


He shook his head. All of this was absurd. Life with a witch. Utter lunacy. 


And yet —


He knew nothing about her. He now knew that she had studied him while playing chess. She was pulling her punches to find out about the depths of his heart. She had him fooled all along. What if she was fooling him right now? She would kill him the moment he took off those handcuffs? Then she would take the keys and free the other witches. Which was bad. Because then they would go on to slaughter all the good folk of King’s Pride. 


Yes, she was fooling him. Or was she? 


Marcus imagined Svenja, her golden glowing eyes, cradling an infant in her arms. She would then turn to him and smile and —


“Your food is getting cold.” 


Marcus looked up and saw Anna with her hands on her hips, mocking amusement on her lips. 


He picked up the fork and shoved food into his mouth. It was cold. 

 

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Svenja

 

Svenja sat in her cell, listening to the commotion down the corridor. It sounded as though a witch had come into physical contact with Reinhard. She could hear exclamations and Reinhard crying out with pain. 


Moments later, Reinhard walked past her cell and every witch could see that his hand were bloodied. They cheered and laughed. Svenja remained silent. She was suspicious. Why would a witch make physical contact with a knight now? Up until now, every witch had made sure to avoid physical contact with the men. Keep a low profile and wait for the opportune moment to break out. 


Why did that happen now? It seemed that it was caused by the new witch, judging by the voices. 


The witches in her cell chattered about the incident for while, then turned their attention to Svenja. 


“What were you thinking?” a witch said, accusation in her eyes. “Marry a human knight? Become his wife? Bear his children? Are you out of your mind?” 


Svenja didn’t respond. 


The witch continued. “Where is your pride as a witch?” 


Svenja turned to her. Her expression was stoic. “Pride is worthless without freedom.” 


Another witch spoke up. She was small and timid. She had a slim frame and was barely taller than a child. “You were lying to him. Right, Svenja? Are you planning on killing him when he sets you free?” 


Svenja said nothing. 

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A/N: The Girl in Cell 3 has reached the 50 chapter milestone! Thank you all for your support and see you in the next one :) 

 

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