The quarters were too large.
The bed alone could have fit three people comfortably, its sheets soft, clean—untouched. She sat near the center of it, back against the headboard, knees drawn slightly inward, staring at nothing in particular.
No chains.
No restraints.
No pain.
It felt… wrong.
She was used to screaming rooms, cold tables, bright lights that burned her eyes. She was used to being measured, cut, drained, observed. Used to being told to endure.
Here, there was nothing to endure.
And she didn't know what to do with that.
A maid had tried speaking to her earlier. A gentle voice, careful words. The girl had only stared back, silent, her mind blank. She didn't know how to answer. Didn't know what tone to use. Didn't even know why someone would speak without wanting something in return.
The maid eventually left, unsettled.
Later, as she walked through the halls under escort, a few guards had looked at her differently. Some smiled. Some winked.
Disgust curled in her stomach.
Her fingers twitched.
She imagined their blood on the marble floors. Imagined how easily it would spill if she were allowed to move freely. How easily all of them would fall—everyone who had watched her suffer, everyone who had signed papers and called it research.
Everyone.
The thought comforted her.
But there was one name that always stopped the spiral.
Zane.
She didn't know why.
They had only spoken once. Barely even that. And yet, when everything else blurred into pain and noise, that name remained clear. It was the only thing she held onto that didn't hurt.
It was the only thing that felt… real.
She turned toward the window, watching the palace gardens below. The flowers were well kept, arranged with care.
Lilies.
She liked lilies.
They were quiet flowers. Pale. Unassuming. People often underestimated them.
She thought of the name Lily.
No.
Too soft. Too small. It didn't fit what she had endured. Didn't fit what she was becoming.
She frowned slightly, thinking.
Then—
Something clicked.
"Li…lith."
The word felt heavy on her tongue. Old. Powerful. Sharp around the edges.
"Lilith."
She said it again, quieter this time.
"Lilith."
A third time—steadier.
"Lilith."
A smile slowly formed on her lips.
It wasn't wide.
It wasn't joyful.
But it was real.
For the first time, she had chosen something for herself.
She looked out the window once more, fingers curling lightly against the fabric of her clothes.
Lilith.
Yes.
That would be her name.