Chapter 47
They led her upstairs, through hallways she remembered from childhood but that felt foreign now, changed by years of absence and everything that had happened since. The family floor was exactly as she remembered—expensive, elegant, designed to impress rather than comfort.
They stopped at a door near the end of the hall, and Eleanor opened it with a flourish that suggested she expected gratitude or at least appreciation.
The room was beautiful. Ravyn would give them that. Large windows overlooking the gardens, a king-sized bed with what looked like thousand-thread-count sheets, an en-suite bathroom with a soaking tub and separate shower, a walk-in closet that was already filled with her meager belongings arranged with more care than they deserved.
There was even fresh flowers
