Max walked into one of the empty rooms in the living chamber and closed the heavy stone door behind him. The moment he looked around, his brows furrowed slightly. Calling this place a room felt generous.
Inside, there was nothing except a crude stone bed carved directly from the ground, cold and lifeless, with no bedding, no table, no chair, and not even a faint decoration on the walls. The dim light seeping in from the corridor outside barely illuminated the space, giving it a suffocating and oppressive feeling.
"The treatment of a slave," Max muttered quietly as he sat down on the stone bed. The surface was rough and unforgiving, yet he did not react much to the discomfort. He took a slow breath and steadied his thoughts, forcing his mind into calmness.
Complaining about conditions would change nothing. Strength and status were the only things that mattered here, just like everywhere else he had been.
