Chapter 53
Back at the southern estate, the cold room had become Callie's entire world.
Days had passed since her father's guards had locked her away, though she had lost precise count somewhere around the third day, the narrow, high window offering only faint, shifting light to mark the passage of time. A maid brought food twice daily, thin, meager portions barely sufficient to keep her upright, along with a small pitcher of water that never quite satisfied the persistent thirst gnawing at her.
The cold never fully left her bones. She had taken to pacing the small room during the coldest hours, forcing her stiff muscles to move if only to generate some small warmth against the persistent chill radiating up through the stone floor.
She thought endlessly of Luca, the uncertainty gnawing
