MEADOW'S POV.
The room they had given me was small but surprisingly comfortable.
The walls were built from old, dark wood that still carried the scent of pine. A single window overlooked the quiet village below, allowing the cool mountain breeze to drift inside. Thick woven curtains hung neatly on either side, swaying gently whenever the wind slipped through the open shutters.
Against one wall stood a simple wooden bed covered with soft cream-colored sheets and a hand-stitched quilt. Beside it sat a small bedside table with an old oil lamp resting on top. Across from the bed was a wooden wardrobe that looked as though it had been carved by hand years ago. A rocking chair sat quietly in one corner beside a stone fireplace, though no fire burned inside it.
The room was simple.
Nothing l
