Chapter Eighty-Seven.
Deep in the bowels of the Ice Palace, the stench of excrement, metallic odours of stale blood, mixed with damp, filled the air, and clung to the occupants of the dungeons.
Straw-covered flagstone floor, which split the rows of iron-barred cells. Cold metal buckets for the occupants to relieve their bodily fluids were bolted to the floors, until they were filled to the brim, before being swapped out for a clean bucket. The rest of the cell floors were covered in straw. Some had extra mounds to offer some comfort to the occupants, while others had only the cold, hard floor to rest their weary heads. The lucky ones were treated to a small, raised cot, covered in thick, patchworked bunny fur quilts to offer them warmth. In one such cell, the shadowed body swaddled in
