Victory in Obscurity

The cold, tiled floor of the dungeon pressed against my cheek.

I could hear the sounds of a victory feast, the laughter of soldiers loyal to him.

My husband, General David, stood over me, his polished boots reflecting the dim torchlight.

"Worthless," he spat, the word hitting harder than the back of his hand had moments before.

He accused me of driving Bethany, my maid, to suicide, believing every lie she whispered.

His boot pressed down on the back of my head, grinding my face into the filthy stone.

"You will die down here," he promised, his voice low and final.