The morning light filtered into the mansion like a soft whisper, brushing against the curtains and spilling gold across the marble floors. The scent of fresh bread and coffee drifted upstairs, coaxing Amira out of the cocoon of sleep she had only slipped into after dawn.

Her body stirred reluctantly. Every muscle ached, and her wrists still burned where the ropes had cut deep, though they were carefully bandaged now. For a moment she lay still, her lashes resting against her ...