Atila expected a dingy hut like room with dirt floors and little light. To her surprise it was a solid room with thick wooden walls, high glass windows with iron grating, and a double locked entryway for extra security. Whatever purpose the room was for, she was certain it was to keep someone, such as her, from escaping.
The guards held her still as they placed a cuff around her waist and chained her to a post in the corner of the room. After releasing her handcuffed wrists, they locked her in the inner room without a word. She stood there almost stunned as she started to process that she truly was a captive with no way out.
She crept over to the simple bed and laid down to think about why and how. Why would he want her? He said he'd been waiting for her. Was she his tool in a plot? The gathering he might be from could be one of the more vicious and conquest hungering tribe. Or even worse. He might be wanting her for his bride. Why would someone so seemingly modern resort to such an outdated and almost primative deed? Atila shuttered at the thought. Sometime past the rising moon she fell into a light troubled sleep, ready to fight even in her dreams.