Luther jumped awake with a jolt, his chest rising and falling as though he had just been pulled from the bottom of a lake. His body was slick with sweat, sticking the thin tunic against his skin. His eyes darted around, first confused, then narrowing into suspicion.
The bed. The blanket. The stone walls.
And the window.
He rubbed his face and groaned. The same cursed room.
Only now, the once-opened window had been locked tight with a thick iron latch and a heavy keyhole. Someone had clearly gone out of their way to make sure he didn't try his luck a second time.
"Lovely," Luther muttered, dragging his hand down his face. He stood, glaring at the barred sunlight filtering through the glass. "What is this supposed to be? A room? A prison cell? Can't really tell the difference."
He sighed dramatically, tossing the blanket off himself. Still, almost by instinct, he folded it neatly, as though mocking whoever might be watching him.
