The mine shaft was dark, barely illuminated by the few torches scattered against the grimy, damp walls. Yet we pressed on, silent as a funeral procession. As we moved along the tunnel, the cold iron of our chains rubbing against our wrists, our sore, bare feet, and even our necks, I knew some, if not all of us were wondering when the end would arrive. For some of the prisoners the chafing caused minor discomfort, some scratches and missing skin. I envied them. But the metal burned me to the touch, sapping away my magic, most of my energy, the essence of who I was.

I didn't let even a whimper of pain escape, just kept my head low and followed along, attempting not to draw any attention from the guards. How long had I been in this place? Any passage of time was beyond me, other than meals and sleep. Ah, how peaceful sleep was. I longed to be back home, whether I was on an army cot or in my luxurious chambers. Anything was better than the cold, damp floor.

More importantly, I missed the people I loved the most. Some nights I would repeat their names in my head, over and over, picturing their faces. Foxglove. Dante. Vivienne.

"Keep it moving, prisoners." The voice that addressed us was as gravelly and rough as the stones littered across the path, filled with impatience. "I said, keep it moving!" With barely any for us to react, he jabbed the end of his sword into the young faerie at the back of the line.

She cried out, immediately toppling onto the ground. As we were all connected by the chains, every last one of us fell down with her. They'd bring out the whip, I knew from experience. The wounds that would reopen constantly, staining the torn, filthy clothes they gave us. I could only hope that the lashes wouldn't go to me.

With a fluid movement, the girl was torn away from the rest of us. I didn't know her name, knew nothing other than she should've been under my protection. And yet I didn't bother to react, never flinched when she cried out. Kept myself cold and distant from the other prisoners, focusing only on the precious metals and gems we mined out.

'It could be worse, Briar.' I always told myself. 'She could've put you in the dungeons, throwing you into a cell. Tortured you and left your corpse to rot.' But she hadn't. Amira Blackwell, the queen who ruled Exestow with a shadowy grip, never showed any mercy, any ounce of decency- except when it came to her prizes, her pets. And I,heir to the Rosenfall throne, was the most important conquest of all.

Within moments, my attention was divided away from the situation at hand and back to the events leading me here.
A tall throne of polished obsidian sat in front of me, a cold air seeming to resonate from it, chilling me all the way down to my bones. Iron surrounded me- on my wrists, on my ankles, my neck, nulling my powers and my strength, reducing my senses to little more than nothing. There was a dull ache in my head- sleep, it said, sleep. I wanted to lay down and sleep- I couldn't. Not here, not now, not yet. Danger was everywhere in this kingdom that wasn't my own.

"So this is the legendary Briar Rosenfall." A voice much like silk purred, amusement in her tone. I looked up to see the face of Amira Blackwell, a barbed crown perched on her head. Every inch of her glistened- from the scales on her face, to her pitch black armor. The numerous rings and necklaces adorning her body. Danger, the voice in my head whispered to me. Run and hide. "You're... younger than I was expecting. Prettier too, I suppose. What a pity... A precious little treasure in a throne room of nightmares."

Her face shifted to match the fake sincerity of her tone, a mask of pity. Poor you, poor you, poor you, she seemed to say, but remained poised to strike. "Little treasure... I know just where to hide you. After all, the fae would never dare to venture into my treasure trove. How does an expedition into the gem mines sound, hm? You get a glimpse of the process behind constructing that adorable crown of yours."

It didn't sound good, or anything other than your usual tragedy. She controlled those mines, inside and out. At a moment's notice, a cart could accidentally land on top of me. Crushing the heir to my throne to death. What a terrible ending for a princess, the people would say. That poor Rosenfall girl..sad, it is. And no one would blink an eye. Within months, I'd be forgotten, another skeleton residing among the fruits of my labor.

"Better than returning to Court, it seems." I murmured through clenched teeth. "Thank you for your..generosity."

Amira laughed, a cold glittering in her grey eyes. Every second spent near her unnerved me. I had to get out of here. Out of this room, out of these chains, out of this kingdom. Anywhere but here. "Escort our little guest to the carriage waiting outside. I trust that the mines will be very welcoming."

Before I had the chance to move, the guards on each side of me pulled at the chains, forcing me to stand up before they led me outside. Sure enough, a carriage was waiting outside, but it was more like a prison wagon than anything else. Decorated in pale green and silver, my family's colors, it was a mockery of everything I and my father stood for. Heavy bars were on the windows, set so that I couldn't escape. Double heavy duty locks were placed on the doors, which I thought was just plain overkill. I was chained up, there was really no way I'd be able to escape in the first place. That was Amira, of course. Always double checking, always thinking things through.

Roughly, and definitely not with the respect a princess deserved, I was shoved inside, my manacles chained to a pole inside the carriage. Definite overkill. "She's secure!" One of the guards called out to the other, and as he stepped away, the door was slammed, and I could hear keys turn into the locks. Sealing me in and leaving me to my fate. The carriage started off, and I leaned against the carriage seat, trying to get as comfortable as I possibly could. It would be a long ride, and there was not much else to do but sleep or stare out the window.

Reality flooded back to me. I shook my head, several grimy strands of hair slipping from my ponytail and into my eyes. Best not to dwell on the past, only the here and now. My only focus was getting out of there- impossible with the leering guards in every nook and cranny.

"Princess, stop singing a little song and get back to work." A gravelly voice shouted from the front of the line. Princess, The most creative nickname they seemed to be able to come up with. Then again, dragons weren't very smart, especially when it came to those who held lower class positions in society.

Biting my tongue and ignoring the pain, I shuffled over to the nearest gem studded wall and lifted my pickaxe, swinging it back before making contact with the area. Minecarts rumbled up and down the tracks, collecting whatever the miners managed to carve out. Rubies and diamonds, sapphires and silver. Everything had to go to Amira. The guards watched over us like hawks. As if any of us would possibly dare try to steal anything. Prisoners were always desperate, yes, but I knew that no one in these tunnels were that desperate. Or, not yet, at least.

Occasionally I stared down a guard, taking in their armored uniforms, just as grubby as our torn clothes. In a way, they were prisoners as well, but with privileges that I and the other prisoners would never receive.

Muffled, maniac laughter came from the opposite end of the mineshaft, getting increasingly closer with every step the culprit made. The sound of bare feet echoed across the stone floor, drowned out only by the snapped chains dragging along. Everyone near me lifted their heads up, knowing exactly what was going on- we had a runner. Rarely did these attempts succeed, as the guards always caught up. Runners were those who finally lost what was left of their shattered minds, summoning whatever strength remained to break their shackles and make a desperate run for it. Their bravery was always admired by the rest here. Even I had thought about it- but never went through with it, as I didn't want to add more infected wounds to my growing collection.

I didn't know the prisoner who decided that now was the time to act, nor would I ever had. But he looked me in the eyes as he passed, and uttered one single sentence before the guards caught up to him: 'You will be liberated.'

"What did he say to you?" One of the guards snarled, pressing me against the wall. "Is he your conspirator? A distraction allowing for your escape?" That was ridiculous. I hadn't spoken more than a sentence to most of the other prisoners, and he knew it. No, instead I'd been a good little lamb, allowing the Igrocs to lead me to slaughter.

Igrocs... I missed my own. The large dogs were found in large amounts in the mountains, usually used for herding sheep or allowed to run wild. Centuries before my time, however, a former ruler had found another use for them: battle. Wingless faeries like myself could saddle them up and ride into the battlegrounds, mowing down countless enemies in their paths.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I whispered, purposefully trembling. The weaker I sounded and appeared to be, the sooner I would be left to my own devices- as alone as I could be in a prison. This was a manner I'd adapted soon after stepping into the mines. Better to be the compliant prisoner than the dying rebel.

"You know perfectly well, princess." He sneered. From this close, I could see every grime coated scale on his face. Dull green, the same shade as his eyes.

"Don't overstep your station, mongrel." Despite his hands clamped down on my shoulders, I managed to stand up as straight as I could, refusing to let him turn me into a coward. Even being dirty and wounded could not erase my regal status. You could take the princess out of the castle, but there was no way to extract the castle from the princess. Every ounce of etiquette had been drilled into me from a young age, and no matter how tired, how utterly ruined I was, I had to use the manners I'd been taught.

"In case you've forgotten, you're no longer in the posh castle you're used to, you're in a prison. We command you, not the other way around." A beastly grin crept across his face. "And if we want to accuse you of having connections outside, we can and will. Won't it be lovely for your father to receive your head in a basket?"

Before I could even cry out, the guard dragged me up the mineshaft by my hair, undoing the grimy makeshift braid as we went. Other prisoners paused their work to gawk at us as we passed by.

"Just ignore me! Go back to your mindless digging for treasures you'll never get to hold!" I called out, going limp and letting myself be dragged. Might as well have enjoyed the experience of being helpless while I was there. Wasn't every day I got to play the damsel in distress.

But this? This was my chance to finally show my true colors. My chance to bite back after all this time.

"Shut up, prisoner."

"Make me, pond scum."

By then he shoved a nasty cloth into my mouth, forcing me to shut up. It didn't stop me from attempting to scream bawdy sailor songs through it. After training with an army for five years, I had memorized them all and could practically sing them in my sleep. My voice came out extremely muffled, but by the man's body language I could tell that he heard every word I sang, loud and clear.

Knowing that it was no use, he eventually ripped the cloth out of my mouth. "You're a buzzkill," I informed him cheerfully. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

Silence addressed me in return, the only other noises being the telltale clink of pickaxes. "Working for Amira must be terribly boring. You're super bony. Don't tell me she doesn't bother to feed her soldiers! That must be why you're so grumpy. You didn't get any breakfast, and us prisoners get the proper rations. It's totally unfair, isn't it?" Still, empty silence.

After what seemed to be days of walking- or being dragged on my part- we reached the entrance that led to all the mineshafts. Bright, lovely daylight awaited... But as we walked out, so did the dreadful prison carriage. I winced, mentally hissing. Going without sunlight for such a long time was not good on the eyes. So this was the plan all along. Get me to react, and take me back to Amira so she could seal my obviously tragic fate. A grand plan, but also an extremely ridiculous one.

"Why can't I just be beaten to death in the mines?" I groaned. "It's not like my father would actually care what happened to me! He has five other possible heirs."

"No one cares about your family drama." One of the guards standing near the carriage snorted, her vibrant yellow eyes illuminating the helmet covering most of her face.

"Then do tell me, what's your family drama? Did you father remarry? Brother run away? Or was there an arranged marriage you didn't want to take part in? Come on, there has to be some interesting reason a Noble caste dragon would join the guard."

Dragons lived in a caste system- something I could never understand. The color of their eyes easily identified them. Dull green marked soldiers, pale blue and sapphire marked tailors and merchants, Nobles were yellow, and royals, like the mighty house of Blackwell, were usually grey.

She said nothing, regarding me in stony silence. I was beginning to sense a pattern- none of these guards knew anything about being social, which made it seem like only those from Amira's inner circle were allowed to tend any type of formal event. "You guys lead sad lives, do you know that?"

A hard hit to my head with the base of a sword, and everything went black.