Frustration welled up inside her, a low sigh escaping her lips. The more she tried to recall, the harder it was to understand how she had ended up here, in this dark, wretched prison. The ache in her body and the fog in her mind only deepened her sense of helplessness.
As the oppressive reality of her situation settled in, her heart sank further. She was trapped, with no idea of where she was, or why.
As she lay on the filthy bed silently, the creak of a door pierced the stillness. Her heart jumped, alarmed. The door to her cell swung open harshly, and the dim light from the corridor spilled into the room. Standing in the doorway was a middle-aged man, his clothes fine and tailored, marking him as a noble. But there was no kindness in his gaze—only cold disdain.
He stepped into the room, his boots clacking against the stone floor as his eyes swept over her with visible disgust. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice sharp and biting. "How did you get into Wolfstadt's territory?"
She flinched, her body too weak to rise from the bed, her mind still reeling from the pain. She tried to speak, but no words came. Her throat felt dry, her body too exhausted to respond.
The noble's face twisted with impatience. "Answer me!" he shouted, taking a step closer. His voice echoed harshly off the stone walls, the force of his anger almost palpable. "You think you can just wander into our lands without consequence? Who sent you?"
Each question felt like a hammer pounding against her, but she could barely lift her head, let alone speak. Her lips parted, but no sound came. The fatigue weighed her down, dragging her further into helplessness.
The noble's anger flared. He grabbed her arm roughly, shaking her as if forcing the words from her would somehow work. "Speak, damn you!" His eyes narrowed, his face inches from hers, the stench of his breath mingling with the damp air of the cell. "Who are you working for? How did you end up in our territory?"
She winced, her body trembling, but before the noble could continue his interrogation, a guard stepped into the cell. "My lord," the guard interrupted, his voice steady but firm. "The prisoner has been summoned by the king."
The noble froze, his grip on her loosening as he shot the guard a sharp glance. For a moment, the room was silent except for her shallow breaths.
The noble straightened, letting go of her arm with a sneer. "The king?" he muttered, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. He took a step back, glaring at her one last time before turning toward the door.
"You're lucky the king has called for you," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "But this isn't over. I'm not done with you."
With that, he stormed out of the cell, leaving her trembling and confused as the guard closed the door behind them. Her heart pounded, still reeling from the aggression, but the mention of the king only deepened the mystery surrounding her situation.
The king? she wondered, her breath catching as she tried to make sense of it. The king of what? The words echoed in her mind, deepening the mystery of where she was and why she had been brought here.