The Black Tower stood like a forgotten god, silent, immovable, and suffocating. Deep within its stone belly, where light struggled to exist and hope felt like a distant myth, Julia sat on the edge of her narrow cot, her fingers gripping the thin mattress beneath her as if it could anchor her to reality, something she was slowly losing grasp of.
Time had long since lost its meaning, and she could no longer tell how long she had been locked away.
There were no windows, there was no sunlight, and no sense of morning or night. Only the occasional flicker of torchlight from the corridor and the distant echo of footsteps that reminded her she was still trapped in a world that continued without her.
Her mind refused to stay still regardless of the deafening silence, it replayed everything that had happened that led to her imprisonment.
The wedding, the chaos, and the blood of the queen that stained the stone floors beneath her.
