The people looked unsure of what to do, but Theia's words shook their world. Sure, they might not make it out alive, but there was a chance they could escape—and that was more than they could have asked for.
Hilda glanced around the room and saw something that hadn't been there before, hope. Hope for a better day.
She smiled, seeing a reflection of her past self in them.
They quickly moved on to the next step of their plan. Hilda wasn't prepared for this kind of situation, but she had some idea of how they could get out.
To improve their chances, they needed proper weapons. Even an inexperienced fighter with a sword could do more damage than a malnourished prisoner with a broken metal rod or a rusty knife. The best they had was a knife; the worst was a piece of metal that had broken off one of the jail bars—a far cry from the weapons the knights wielded.
