Landon's POV
I don't know how long it has been and whether it was day or night. I had asked my father who Lord Varron was and he silenced me as though my questions had no place, as though I had no right to them.
I hadn't even kept track of how many fingers had been scrubbing at my back earlier in the bath, washing me as if my body carried some unspeakable filth.
Not that I could blame the servants. Being locked away for days without a proper bath must have made me require the kind of cleansing I was given.
But my stomach kept rumbling, a hollow sound that echoed through me and though the servants heard it, none of them cared enough to look my way. Hunger gnawed at me, clawing deeper with every passing second.
When they undressed me for the bath, they had thrown away the bread the little omega girl had once risked her life to bring me in the cell.
