Emily
The servant quarters were a dungeon dressed in a different name.
The room I was assigned was situated deep in the cold, damp underbelly of the castle, miles away from the polished stone, roaring hearths, and velvet drapes of the upper levels.
There were no grand windows here—only a narrow, horizontal slit near the ceiling that let in the freezing mountain wind and a pathetic, mocking sliver of winter moonlight.
The bed was nothing more than a rotting wooden frame topped with a thin, scratchy burlap sack stuffed with uneven, mildewed straw.
I sat on the edge of the miserable mattress, my knees pulled tightly against my chest as my entire body shook with an intense, unceasing tremor. The chill of the stone floor seemed to seep directly into my bones.
I had ruined everything.
My
