At the far end of the room Rhea sat on the wet cold hard floor of the cellar, clutching her knees against her chest in a tight embrace, as the continous cold sipped pass her flesh into her bones. Her lips had gone numb, cracked and pale, her teeth clattering in an endless shiver.
The harsh mold smell of the cellar had filled her nostrils to the extent she couldn't smell anything else. Her finger were numb and pale so were her feet and each one were wrinkled.
It been days—five days precisely that she had been in the cellar after meeting with the queen, even though she can't tell how many days has passed, since there are no sun or light to detect time.
When am I going to leave this place? Or am I going to rot here? She thought, I don't even know how his condition is. Or if she used what Sisi told me. No one is telling me anything. Her mind rumbled on.
