"Roland..."
Galvis lay on his back on the soft velvet bed, staring blankly at the stone ceiling carved with intricate vine patterns as he muttered to himself.
"When are you ever going to get here..."
His current location was a stark contrast to the dark dungeon where he had been imprisoned before.
The spacious room was well-ventilated, carrying the faint, fresh scent of grass and trees.
The walls were built of smooth, polished white stone, adorned with exquisitely woven tapestries depicting the epic myths of the Elf Race.
A soft glow spilled from the Light-Guiding Crystals embedded in the ceiling, illuminating the elegant wooden furniture, the long benches draped with soft animal hides, and the incredibly comfortable bed he was on.
However, this sudden "preferential treatment" brought him no peace of mind. Instead, it only deepened his anxiety and unease.
Galvis paced to the room's only narrow window and peered out through the ornate iron bars.
