Eira's pov
The room was bigger. Too big, maybe. Too polished. White walls, gold trimmings. Silk sheets that made me itch. A chandelier I'd never look up at long enough to admire. They called it a mercy. A privilege. A sign of peace.
I called it a trap.
This wasn't freedom. It was just a bigger, prettier cage. The only difference now was that I could walk from one end of the room to the other without hearing metal clang under my heels.
I still didn't trust it.
After the maid incident, the air around me had shifted. I noticed it in the way the guards flinched whenever I moved too fast. I saw it in how the maids refused to meet my gaze, always keeping their heads down, their steps nervous. No one dared test me anymore.
Good.
I liked that. I liked the silence. The solitude. The untouchable power that clung to me like perfume,sharp, deadly, unmistakable.
