Two years. She almost couldn’t believe the hell her life had become in the span of just two years.
Pacing the confines of her chamber, a mere ten paces if she walked the shorter distance between what she knew were the North and South walls, and fifteen paces to cross from West to East.
Two years… And the day her life changed drastically. The day she realized just how alone in the world she was. The day she realized what freedom was, and that she was denied it.
Before that, her memories were all pleasant. Happy.
A memory of her
bringing her blocks to build with when she was very small — a prize for being a good girl and not putting up a fuss when he came to draw blood from her small arm.
Or like the time he came to teach her to read, and brought her books…those times always elicited arguments from Uncle Iain.
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