Gild (The Plated Prisoner, #1)

by Raven Kennedy

I try to keep a positive outlook on life, even if I am in my own person-sized birdcage. A pretty jail for a pretty relic.

It gives me the crawling caterpillars in my stomach—not butterflies. I’m jealous of those free-flying bitches.

I live in a cage, so going nowhere is my expertise.

I’m the gold-plated prisoner. But what a pretty prison it is.

A cage is a cage, no matter how gilded.

memory and time aren’t friends. They reject each other, they hurry in opposite directions, pulling the binding taut between them, threatening to snap.

I’m ridiculously fun. You kind of have to be when the only person you hang out with is you. I wouldn’t want to bore myself.

Where was all of that arm strength when I was trying to break out of my damn cage last week? Useless muscles.

You can pretend a lot of things in life. You can pretend so well that you even start to believe your own deceit. We’re all actors; we’re all on pedestals with a spotlight shining on us, playing whatever part we need to in order to make it through the day—in order to help ourselves sleep at night.

You can have all the gold in the world and yet lack everything of real worth.

No one sees me for anything but the metallic glimmer of my skin. No one looks past the pure gold threads of my hair. Aside from the whites of my eyes and teeth, I’m just a golden statue to everyone. A fixture to be seen and not heard.

And what’s a ring when you have a heart?

“Despite what I look like, I’m not a coin to be spent.”

“You are worth more than all the gold in this castle. But I still own you, and I will spend you any way I see fit.”

“I need a bright side,” I mumble. Bright side. I need a bright side to ground me. To keep me from going under.

Because this moment—this is mine.

“It’s my favorite story of yours.”

“You’re definitely more than just that, my lady. And you should make sure people treat you as such.”

Sharp. The sorrow is so damn sharp.

“Our ship’s finally got a Sail!”

This hurt so bad

I don’t care that I’m one woman against a ship load of men. I don’t care that I’m vulnerable, that I’m walking toward the captain alone. Because Sail was my friend. And this is not okay.

It’s the arrogance of men, to think so little of women. And it’ll be their downfall too.

So if I make it through this, if I live, I vow to myself that I won’t let it happen again. I won’t sit idly by and keep letting men crush me in their fists.

A thirteenth man stomps up the ramp, passing his soldiers who stand at attention on either side of him like brick walls. He’s tall, his very presence demanding of attention. Yet despite the fact that he’s wearing the same black armor and brown leather as the others, he has a very distinct difference.

It was said that their love was deeper than all the seas of Annwyn, that music was made from the song of their hearts.

Men making deals on the behalf of women never seems to go very well for the women.

“You won’t like what happens if you refuse. But by all means, the choice is yours.”

Why am I so cursed to endure the greed of men? Is it simply the gild of my skin? Or is it something more, something deeper, something inside of me that brought me this life?

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect to find a goldfinch.”