The dungeon's cold, damp air clung to Isabella, a shroud of misery that no amount of filth or darkness could hide. Her spirit had been battered, and she was a mere whisper of the queen who had once held her head high.
She shook violently on her bed, she was freezing, hungry and her body had been violated, but she already knew better than to utter a single sound anymore.
Isabella had lost track of how long she had been in her cell now, though she assumed that Casmir's visit had already come and gone without so much as coming to see her. She heard the familiar footsteps of the guards patrol echoing through the corridor. Isabella barely stirred, her hope long since extinguished.
The footsteps drew closer until they stopped by her cell door, she knew it was not time for her meal and there was no other reason for the guards to come to her cell. Unless the guards from before came back for more...
