Chapter 12: Pig Slop

With a dull clatter, two guards entered carrying a bucket and roughly set several chipped earthenware bowls on the floor.

A sharp, sour stench spread through the cell, overpowering the smell of mold. Rhode recoiled, frowning, and covered his nose as he looked down. The bowls contained a thick gray-brown liquid with unidentifiable roots and suspicious black specks floating on top. It was steaming, but it looked and smelled worse than the swill in a modern sewer.

His predecessor’s body, accustomed to fine food and wine, reacted at once. His stomach churned. *Is that fit for anyone to eat?*

“You…” Rhode raised his voice, ready to object. He was a prince, however useless, carrying out royal business. Serving serious prisoners pig slop in front of him showed contempt not only for them but for him.

Then he swallowed the rest of his words. The guards kept their heads down, exchanging nervous glances. Their shoulders were tense, as though they feared he might overturn the table and explode, yet their feet stayed planted; neither showed any intention of replacing the food.

An alarm sounded in Rhode’s mind. This was the capital’s high-security prison, and its prisoners were elven royalty. Poor rations on an ordinary day were one thing, but with a prince conducting the interrogation, surely the warden should have made a show of bringing something presentable.

Instead they had brought spoiled gruel. Someone had ordered it. Rhode had only just awakened in this body and had no trusted followers. If he made a scene over prison food, he might walk straight into a trap.

“Fine fare. Nice and hot.” He lowered his hand, put on a careless smile and nudged a bowl with his toe. “Leave it here. You’re done. Get out and stand guard.”

The guards saluted in relief and hurried away. Hongye watched in surprise, then resumed her blank expression. “Doesn’t the smell bother you, Your Highness?” She pinched her nose and moved aside.

Rhode rolled his eyes. “What do you know? This is experiencing the hardships of ordinary people. Take some to the princess.”

Elia had been staring at the steaming bowls since they arrived, swallowing repeatedly. At his words, she forgot her fear and all royal restraint. She sprang up, hurried over and lifted a chipped bowl in both hands, though it was hot to the touch.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

She bowed her head sincerely, ignored the sour stench and took a cautious sip. Once she knew she could swallow it, she tipped her head back and drank deeply.

The gulping was loud in the quiet cell. Brown liquid ran down her chin onto her ruined dress, but she paid no attention. In less than half a minute the spoiled gruel was gone, and she even licked the remnants from the rim.

Rhode stared, acid rising in his throat. “You… can really swallow that?”

Elia set down the empty bowl and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, embarrassed. Rather than answer, she picked up the other two bowls and hurried to pass them through the bars. “Your Majesty, Vera, have some quickly. It’s hot!”

Selena accepted a bowl with both hands. She did not gulp it down like Elia, but she drank deeply. Still hanging from the wall, Vera turned her head and drank from the bowl Selena held for her.

When both had finished, Elia turned back. The fear had gone from her green eyes, replaced by a quiet satisfaction.

“You may think it tastes terrible, Your Highness,” she said, hands clasped before her. “But to us it’s very good. At least it’s cooked, and it’s warm.”

Rhode opened his mouth, unsure what to say.

Elia gave a bitter smile. “Last winter, after the border was sealed, even the bark and roots were dug up. To survive, our people swallowed dry earth mixed with snowmelt. Many little elves didn’t even have the strength to cry; they froze and starved to death at night. Compared with that, a warm bowl of gruel is far better than anything our people had.”

Rhode sat rigidly, his fingers digging into the chair arms. These were the highest leaders of the elven people: their queen, princess and general. If even they were grateful for half a bowl of spoiled gruel, what had life been like for ordinary elves in Silvermoon Forest?

He had asked whether they rebelled because they had too much time on their hands merely to provoke an answer. Now it sounded like a cruel question from someone who had never known hunger.

Hongye stopped writing and looked at the three elves with a complicated expression. For once, she offered no sarcastic comment.

“Your Highness.” Selena wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at him through the bars, her gaze deep again. “Do you still think we took up arms for amusement?”