-LILIAN-
The first day in the gilded cage was a blur of aching emptiness. My body convulsed with silent shivers, a deep tremor that no warmth could soothe. My throat was a sandpaper desert, my stomach a gnawing void. Every thought was a dull throb of misery, replaying Uriel's screams, Alexander's monstrous glare, the ghastly sight of that silver platter. But exhaustion, a deep, bone-weary exhaustion, eventually claimed me, pulling me into a fitful, shallow sleep.
The second day dawned, if 'dawn' it could be called in the perpetual gloom of my curtained prison. The gnawing hunger had sharpened into a piercing ache, and my body felt even weaker, heavier, as if gravity had intensified its hold. My lips were cracked, my tongue swollen, clinging to the roof of my mouth. I tried to stand once,
