The cold morning air bit into Lily’s skin as rough hands dragged her out of the dungeon. Her legs barely worked. Her body was sore and weak from days of fever and chains. The stone beneath her bare feet stung with each step.
Outside, the sky was still dark. Mist clung to the ground and she missed her step and stumbled.
“Move,” one of the guards snapped, yanking her forward.
Waiting by the path was Victoria, dressed in soft fur and polished boots, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her sharp eyes swept over Lily’s dirty form with amusement and disgust.
“Took them long enough to drag you out,” she said coldly.
One of the guards gave a curt nod. “Where do you want her, mistress?”
Mistress? Lily’s eyes flicked up at the word. Victoria smiled.
“That’s right,” she said, walking slowly over. “You’ll call me that now. Mistress. Say it.”
Lily didn’t speak. She only stood there, lips pressed together, trembling. Victoria’s smile faded. “She thinks she’s above everyone. Strip her.”
