TAP! TAP! TAP!
Adele's heels echoed through the dimly lit corridor like a metronome of restrained rage. The walls, covered with faded emerald drapes, vibrated faintly with each of her steps. Her long coat fluttered behind her as she reached a tall, iron-bound door nestled at the farthest end—a room deliberately cut off from the rest.
CRIMG!
The iron handle groaned in protest as she flung the door open. Inside, the space was small and bare, lit by a single hanging lantern swaying above, casting warped shadows on the stone walls. In the center sat a young woman, her crimson-red hair like a splash of blood against the muted gloom. Her wrists were tied, her body still—but her golden eyes locked onto Adele with calm precision, not an ounce of fear flickering in them.
She sat upright, back straight, as though she were waiting for tea to be served, not captured and chained.
Adele's eyes lit with fury the moment she saw her.
