***Camilla***
Ten days.
I'd been locked in my room for ten days, though it felt like so much longer. The walls seemed to close in a little more with each passing hour, the silence broken only by the occasional footsteps of guards outside my door and the distant sounds of the manor going about its business as if nothing had changed.
But everything had changed.
I sat by the window, looking out at the gardens I could no longer walk through, and tried to remember what freedom felt like.
My hands rested in my lap, and I stared at them for what felt like the hundredth time. They looked perfectly normal, small and pale and unremarkable, nothing about them suggested the dark magic that had manifested before I'd collapsed in Father's office.
But I could feel it now, always present beneath my skin like a current of cold water running through my veins.
