Lirien's POV
Three days.
I had been here for three agonizing, endless days.
Time had lost its normal rhythm in this place. Without windows that showed the sky or the city, without my comm device, and without the comforting presence of Vael's arms around me at night, every hour bled into the next. I marked time only by Martins twice-daily visits and the trays of food that arrived like clockwork.
The room itself was cruelly comfortable, more like a high-end hotel suite than a prison cell. A large, plush bed dominated one wall, dressed in soft grey sheets and thick blankets that smelled faintly of clean linen. There was a private bathroom with a rainfall shower, soft towels, and expensive toiletries. A small sitting area held a comfortable armchair, a low table, and a modest bookshelf filled with novels, art books, and even a few sketchpads with charcoal pencils.
