Iris POV
The cold of winter seeps into my bones, a relentless chill that makes my teeth chatter as I huddle in the corner of the prison cell. The early morning moonlight spills through the high, barred window, its rays doing little to warm the damp stone walls.
My torn shirt clings to my skin, offering no protection against the icy air. My knees are pulled tight to my chest, my arms wrapped around them, as I try to preserve what little warmth I have. The other women in the cell are scattered around, some curled on thin mats, others leaning against the walls, their breaths coming as frosty air as if they were used to the cold. I wasn't used to this kind of cold. Back there in Blackbane and Warborn, it was never this cold. The summer season was at least manageable compared to this.
I looked at them, their eyes were wary, occasionally flickering toward me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, trying to make myself invisible. I rather not get their trouble attention.
