The heavy door creaked open, and the stale air of the prison filled Iris's lungs. She stepped into the cold, damp corridor, the sharp scent of sweat, mold, and iron filling her nostrils. The guards gave her a quick glance as they unlocked the door to the deepest, most secure cell.
"She's in there," one of the guards grunted, gesturing to the dark cell ahead.
Iris nodded, her gaze cool as she stepped inside. The prison's damp walls seemed to close in on her as she crossed the threshold, her boots silent on the stone floor. She could feel the weight of the silence around her, thick and suffocating. It wasn't just the darkness—it was the eerie calm that lingered in the air.
There, kneeling in the far corner of the cell, was the prisoner. Kira. Her hair, silver and tangled, fell over her face as she huddled against the stone wall. She was chained—her wrists and ankles bound by thick metal links, the faint clang of the chains barely audible as she shifted.
Kira didn't move when Iris entered. She didn't even acknowledge her presence. Iris's lips twitched slightly, annoyance flickering in her chest. This would be harder than she had imagined.
She didn't care about the rumors. Kira could be a dangerous monster or just another broken slave. Either way, she had her orders. Deliver the food. Deliver the water. Don't show weakness.
Iris set the tray down at the foot of Kira's cell. A plate of stale bread, a cup of water. Simple. The temple didn't waste resources on their prisoners, but it was enough to get the job done. She wasn't here to play the caretaker.
"Eat," Iris ordered flatly, her voice cold and detached. "Before they come."
Kira's head remained bowed, her body unmoving. She didn't even glance at the food.
Iris sighed, irritation flaring in her chest. She had never been the type to pander, and she wasn't about to start now. She glanced over her shoulder at the guards who had followed her, their eyes on her every movement.
"She's not dead yet, so she better eat." Iris's tone was sharp, like the edge of a blade. Her eyes flicked back to Kira, watching her for any sign of movement.
She knew the prisoner wasn't broken. No one that silent, that cold, was broken. She had been in this cell long enough to survive the temple's cruel experiments. The fact that she was still alive spoke volumes. But even the most resilient prisoners knew when to eat, when to drink, when to keep their heads down.
"Eat," Iris repeated, her gaze hard. "Or I'll leave you to starve."
Still, Kira didn't move. Iris frowned and took a few steps closer, standing over the food with her arms crossed.
"You think I care whether you live or die?" Iris said, her voice dripping with disdain. "I'm not here to save you, and I'm not here to listen to your silent tantrums. Eat, or I'll drag you out and shove this down your throat myself."
A slight tremor ran through Kira's body—whether from the cold or something else, Iris couldn't tell. But it was enough to make her pause. Iris didn't trust the silent, broken prisoners. She didn't trust anyone who spoke without words.
Without waiting for a response, Iris turned on her heel, her boots tapping against the stone as she walked toward the door. She could feel Kira's gaze on her, even without turning around.
"Don't make me come back," Iris said over her shoulder, her tone biting. "You'll regret it."
She didn't wait for an answer as she stepped out of the cell, the door slamming shut behind her with a heavy thud.
The silence in the prison seemed to swell, thick and all-encompassing, but Iris wasn't affected. She had a job to do. And the less she thought about the woman in the cell, the better.