A Cage of Crimson (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #5) Read Online K.F. Breene

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Deliciously Dark Fairytales Series by K.F. Breene
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Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
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“And the other villagers?” Weston asked, interjecting into the conversation. His hand was braced on his thigh, looking out to the right. “They wouldn’t have those problems living elsewhere, yet they aren’t allowed to leave.”

“Of course they are allowed to leave,” I spat, angry. “People come and go all the time.”

“With an escort.”

“Yes. We’ve had this conversation. Our job is dangerous. Granny provides them protection. And before you say otherwise, they cast a vote in favor of Granny’s organizational goals. They gave their consent to stay there. I was young, but I remember that vote. I participated in it. Someone from the village tallied it up. Notes of that would’ve been in one of the journals you were reading so closely yesterday.”

“It was. As was what you were all promised for that vote,” he replied. “Those promises must’ve seemed like heaven to the impoverished. But then she started slacking in her duties, didn’t she? You wrote that, as well.” His tone turned harsh. “You pushed back and were punished for it. For months you were punished. You thought they’d kill you. Children were beaten to get you to come around. To get you to come around. They didn’t matter, not even the kids. It was you Granny needed to cull. Her drug maker. The key to her whole operation. She needed to keep you happy, Aurelia, and while she worked on that, they were trapped in hell. A hell without end, it seems. It looked to me that they had just enough to get by. Are they really much better off than they started?

“Regardless, they no longer have any freedom of choice. They can’t even move to a neighboring village—those are all gone. Granny made sure of it. Even if they weren’t, what gold do those people have? Besides what we left for them, of course, the offering one they seemed over the moon to receive. Without me, they’d have nothing. Isn’t that right? That isn’t all written in your journals—so far—but it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots.” He paused for a moment. “Or don’t you remember what you wrote?”

I opened my mouth for a rebuttal, ready to say how absurd that all was. Granny did look after everyone. She always mentioned the special things she was doing for the children. She talked of special treats she was working on procuring. Every few months we were all spoiled with enough haunches of meat and extra loaves of bread for a feast.

Before I could utter a word, though, memories long forgotten rose to the surface. I’d been young, fresh in my new role and just getting traction. I’d been working hard on belonging in the village, creating a situation where they needed me and couldn’t get rid of me on a whim. Weston was right; Granny had reneged on her promises for a time. Food had come in rancid. Bread was moldy or rock hard. She promised she’d fix the issue and never did. Everyone had been starving and no one would take my rations unless I just left them behind. I remembered the beatings—oh, how I remembered the beatings. They’d been constant and brutal.

I did think I would die, then. I’d wanted to.

My eyes teared up and I looked away. Granny had been callous and unforgiving. Cruel sometimes. I’d hated her then. I remembered that now. I’d hated everyone; I’d tried to help and they were horrible to me. But what had been the alternative? For me, only death. Death there, or death elsewhere.

I’d stayed firm to help everyone, or so I’d thought. Now, as I looked back, had I really? Or had I been helping myself, ensuring they would all stay so I’d have a place to live without fear of waking up in a burning house? I knew Granny would not only protect the borders, she’d protect me as well. She wouldn’t let the villagers turn on me. She’d said so often enough. She even enquired after my sense of safety periodically.

I’d never once wondered why no one had left. I didn’t wonder even a couple days ago, either, confident it was because they had more now than they did before Granny brought in food and supplies.

But honestly, I had no idea if that was true. People wouldn’t tell me how their day was going, let alone their lives. I knew Raz was unhappy, but figured he stayed for his kids. Did he, though? Was that why he dealt with a job he hated and a co-worker he despised?

My mind churned, thinking back. The past was foggy, unfocused. So much of my life had been about survival. About negating danger. Anything not directly related was hard to call up and analyze.

Didn’t we have some of the same problems now as we did back then? Not nearly as often, I supposed, but sometimes food was lean. Sometimes roofs weren’t fixed. Sometimes we didn’t get the supplies we were promised. It was never bad enough to really be a concern, and I’d never had to push back so hard again, but it wasn’t as good as in the beginning—of that, I was almost positive. Plenty good enough by my standards, but not the avalanche of goods and materials like in the beginning.


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