Consciousness returned slowly.
Not with pain—but with motion.
The girl's eyes fluttered open to the gentle rocking of a carriage. Wooden walls, runic dampeners etched into the corners, soft cushions beneath her… all deceptively calm. She looked down.
Her body was clean.
Dressed in modest, pale clothing—simple, almost respectful. Every bruise was gone. Every cut healed as if they had never existed.
But the restraints remained.
Cold cuffs locked around her wrists, connected by a short chain that bit into her skin whenever she moved. A thicker band circled her neck, faintly glowing—alive, watching her.
She exhaled slowly.
So this was the next cage.
Beside her sat a man in a white coat, older than the others. Thin face. Sharp nose. Greasy dark hair slicked back too carefully. His eyes lingered on her in a way that made her skin crawl—not clinical, not curious.
Hungry.
He smiled when he noticed she was awake.
"You know," he said casually, leaning closer, "you're really not bad-looking."
She didn't respond.
He took her silence as permission.
"I could help you," he continued in a low voice. "Help you escape. Slip up during the transfer. Misplace a key. Look the other way."
He chuckled softly. "I have influence."
Then his hand moved.
Slow. Deliberate. Crawling up her leg like a parasite.
Her vision narrowed.
In one sharp motion, she gathered what little strength she had left and kicked.
The impact cracked against his nose with a sickening crunch.
The man recoiled with a howl, clutching his face as blood spilled between his fingers.
"Bitch—!" he hissed, scrambling back, eyes blazing with fury as he wiped blood from his nose. "You stupid little—"
He straightened, breathing hard.
"You can't do anything," he sneered. "You're chained. Tagged. Watched."
Then he smiled again—uglier this time. "And I was offering you help."
He leaned closer, voice dripping with poison.
"You should be grateful. I've heard what the king does to his servants."
A pause.
"Let alone his wife."
He laughed quietly.
"At least with me, you'd feel something."
His eyes dragged over her. "Might even enjoy it."
The girl didn't hesitate.
She spat.
Thick saliva struck his cheek and slid down his jaw.
The carriage went silent.
The man froze—then slowly wiped his face, his expression twisting into something cold and vindictive.
"…Very well," he said softly. "I tried to be kind."
He reached out and tapped the collar around her neck.
The rune pulsed once—warning, not pain.
"You'll learn," he continued, settling back into his seat. "Everyone does."
He turned his gaze away, staring out the carriage window as if she no longer existed.
But the girl lowered her head, silver hair falling over her eyes.
And though she said nothing—
Inside her, something ancient shifted.
Chains rattled softly.