Eliza hadn't left her room in two days.
Two whole days in which the world had continued turning... but not for her.
Below, in the lower levels of the castle, life continued with almost feverish intensity. The echo of hurried footsteps resonated through the stone hallways, doors opening and closing, low voices charged with urgency. Healers came and went, guards changed shifts, servants ran carrying trays, bandages, glass vials with thick liquids and herbs that smelled of earth and ancient magic.
The entire castle breathed movement.
Concern.
Hope.
But up there, in the highest wing where her room was located, time seemed to have stopped.
The silence was different from calm.
It was a heavy silence.
Dense.
The kind that settles into the walls and slithers through corners like a cold mist.
Eliza was sitting on the floor of her room's balcony.
Not on a chair.
