The Marshal had taken her accusations seriously. And so she hadn’t complained when she was escorted once again to the room they were keeping her in at Appleyard. She was prepared to wait there patiently until word was brought to her that Brax had been evicted from the toyshop and she would be allowed to return. She was all the more surprised, then, when the guards who came to fetch her led her down into the lower levels of the Gathering House to a smaller room with a locked door. The furnishings were even sparser than in the room she had just left. There was a low, narrow cot and one wooden chair, and to her horror nothing but a bucket to relieve herself in. The tiny, high window was barred. She had been so certain the Marshal would help her that it took her longer than it should have to understand that this was a cell and she was now a prisoner. She had called the guards who locked her in every name she could think of and demanded to see the Marshal, but no one answered her. The door was locked and she was alone.
