The Caged Bird Sings

“I see trees of green
Red roses too.
I see them bloom
For me… and for you…”

The gilded cage was as exquisite as it was impenetrable. Gold and silver and other precious metals lined all the prison’s furniture, looking like a jail for a queen. The acoustics of her temporary room carried her raspy alto drawl throughout the enclosure, sounding haunting and alluring at the same time.

Amethyst sat with her legs folded together, a diamond studded ball and platinum chain strapped to her naked ankle. She rested her forehead on her knees, handcuffed arms humming loudly with arcane neutralizing power.

“I see skies of blue
And clouds of white
The bright blessed days
And the dark sacred nights…”

Feeling her neck hairs stand, almost like a lightning bolt due to strike, Ame dropped her song and raised up her eyes.
 
There he was. Sitting backwards on a chair that was only an arm’s length away from the cage bars. She was sure it was the length of her arm in particular. His black satin robes snaked down only one side of his bare chest and carried on only partway down his thighs. His golden tanned skin glimmered in the constant torch light. The night had dropped already. How many nights had she been here in wait?

“My darling. It can be a wonderful world. If you just saw it my way.” His smile dazzled, like a cream eating cat, watching the promise of a canary dinner. He leaned over the chair and managed to get it to balance easily on its two back legs as he leaned closer to her bars. His cocksure smile fell a little, seeing that Amethyst has done nothing with the milk and flower baths and the lines of extravagant garments he sent for her every day.

Her lips on the other hand, perked up in the smallest of victorious smiles.

“I’m sorry dahhhrling.” Amethyst drawled out, her eyes staring daggers at her captor. “Do my regular robes not suit you any longer?”

“They would…” Hiddekul took it upon himself to crawl his gaze over every inch of her exposed flesh. All the magic implements had been stripped from her. “…if you took it upon yourself to have them washed by your servants.”

“YOUR servants.” Amethyst cried in indignation, stumbling up to her feet. “My compatriots! Other foolish cultist who failed!”

“OUR…” The god gave a little cough, bringing his bellow back within cordial volume. “…family my dear. You are worth so much more to me than mere servitude. That’s a copper a dozen.” His silken tone deepened to dangerous levels as he approached the bars. He snapped his fingers, and the handcuffs grew three times heavier, pulling Amethyst to the floor.

“But no more fighting. I expect you to clean up and come out to dinner. Dressed. Bathed. Appropriately”