I woke up slowly.
Not the kind of waking where you sit up fast and panic. This was worse. This was the kind where your body wakes first, and your mind follows behind, dragging pain with it.
The bed was too soft.
The air smelled wrong.
I opened my eyes.
Dark wood ceilings. Heavy curtains. Tall windows letting in pale morning light. Everything was polished and perfect, like it had never known fear.
The Montenegro estate.
My chest tightened.
For a moment, I lay still, listening. No chains. No guards shouting. Just silence. Thick and watching.
I pushed myself up. My head throbbed, but I stayed upright. The sheets slid down, white and untouched.
Like I hadn’t fought for my life less than a day ago.
A knock came at the door.
Not asking.
Telling.
A maid entered, head bowed, eyes car
