This isn't her job

She rolled her eyes, ‘good ones’. What was that even supposed to mean? Subservient? Toothless? Groveling for just a morsel from their Chantry masters? Maricara would rather see the hangman’s noose than see herself on her knees for this woman or any of those that wore the Chantry uniform. She licked her dry cracked lips, tasting the bitter salty taste of her own blood as they split again. One drop. One drop and she could make this Seeker kneel at her feet.

If weakness was what the other woman was looking for she wouldn’t find it in Mari’s face. Not today. All the woman would get from Mari was pure and utter contempt and hatred, It seems like you already know who I am and what I am doing here. Why question me? Hm? You have your mind made up. I have nothing more to give you. Kill me, release me, or leave me alone. Contrary to your utterances I have no desire to play games.

Her hands twitched, trying to get some blood flow to her fingers. The shackles around her wrists were painfully and uncomfortably tight. The demon that lurked within her preened at her insolence. He’d never given her his name but that was fine she knew he was rage manifested in defiance and that was all she needed to know.

I put out my lamp by my bedside last night before I was so rudely ripped from my sleep this morning. she answered, and it was the truth to a point. And saying she’d been asleep in her bed was also the truth. But being in her bed did not mean she was fully in the tower. She could wander how she pleased as she slept. Something she’d been careful to keep from her captors.