Drusilla's POV
The blonde woman took another slow, hesitant step closer to where I sat on the damp stone bench.
She held the heavy silver key tightly in her trembling fingers, the cold metal glinting under the weak, dancing light of the wall torch.
Her sharp green eyes searched every single line of my face, desperately trying to read my thoughts, trying to decide if she was currently making a massive, irreversible mistake.
I kept my expression completely calm, radiating a false sense of pure innocence and absolute weakness.
I let my shoulders slump forward, pretending to be drained of energy so she would think I was no longer a threat.
The trick worked perfectly on her. She slowly leaned down and slipped the key into the heavy iron lock.
With a sharp, metallic click, she successfully unlocked one of my bound hands.
The heavy iron cuff fell away from my flesh, hitting the damp stone floor with a dull, echoing clank.
