Elaria’s POV
They dragged me back into this cell right after the confrontation with Rickard. Slammed me against stone harder than necessary. This time, they didn’t stop at locking the door. No, they shackled my ankles to the wall, tight and low,
My wrists burned from old restraints, skin rubbed raw and tender.
The cold is constant. Bone-deep. I shiver without realizing I’m doing it, like my body forgot warmth was ever an option.
I tried keeping track of time at first. Counted breaths. Counted the shifts of light under the door. But everything blurred. Hunger took over. Then thirst. Then both. They brought food once now, a single bowl of something that looked like mashed oats, and a shallow cup of broth so weak I could see the bottom.
I ate anyway.
Not because I wanted to. But becaus
