The corridor leading to the underground magic prison felt even more suffocating that night. The torches fastened to the walls failed to chase away the biting cold that sank into the bones. The soft echo of Arabelle's luxurious gown trailed behind her, followed by her two handmaids carrying small lanterns.
None of them spoke. Only the sound of Arabelle's heels tapping faintly against the old stone floor marked her presence.
At last, they arrived at a secluded cell sealed by a magic circle. The guard at the door immediately bowed, then lifted the seal at Arabelle's command.
Behind the bars, Elli's body was curled up on the cold stone floor. Her hair was filthy and disheveled, her cheeks hollow, her wrists bound by magic shackles. When the lantern light spilled in, she slowly lifted her head.
Elli's eyes widened faintly. "Lady Arabelle…"
Arabelle only stood in the doorway, gazing at her old friend with an unreadable look. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out at first.
