Elizabeth's Pov
As I reluctantly got out of bed, the head of maids, Mrs. Jenkins, stood by my bedside, her stern face giving me no room for negotiation. "Miss Elizabeth, it's time to get ready for your meal," she stated firmly, her voice as crisp as her uniform.
The routine was monotonous, just as it had been for as long as I could remember. Every morning, I was awakened at the c***k of dawn to the overpowering smell of blood and meat. A metallic tang hung heavy in the air, sending a shiver down my spine. I despised that scent. It was the same concoction they had fed me ever since I was brought to this peculiar pack house.
Today, my patience had reached its limit. I couldn't stand the idea of gulping down that dreadful mixture for breakfast one more time. I felt a surge of anger rising
