The door hide shifted around midday.
Faelyn immediately positioned her hands behind her back, ropes arranged to look secure.
Velryn entered with a tray of food.
That manic grin firmly in place.
"LUNCH! His Eminence wants you well-fed! Can't have you wasting away before the representative arrives!"
He set the tray down—more roasted meat, some kind of root vegetables, fresh water.
Then settled cross-legged on the floor like they were having a casual meal together.
Like he hadn't held a blade to her ribs yesterday.
Like he wasn't keeping her prisoner.
"You're looking better!" Velryn observed cheerfully. "The healers said your wound is healing nicely! That's GOOD! Means you'll be in perfect condition for transport!"
Faelyn said nothing.
Refused to engage.
Velryn didn't seem bothered by her silence.
