Zerina's POV

I couldn't tell when it was day or night but according to my calculations, I've spent two nights in this room. Two traumatizing nights of tears, exhaustion and terror. My bones ached from curling up on the cold, unforgiving floor. My skin bruised, stiff beneath my torn, filthy red dress. My favourite dress now turned to rag.

My stomach growled with a hunger that's almost unbearable. It's like a constant, gnawing ache that refuses to subside. My mouth feels like the Sahara desert. Every time I think about water, my throat constricts and I feel the need to cry.

But it's not the physical discomfort that's getting to me—its the emotional toll. I felt weak, vulnerable and helpless. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I think about the simplest things, like taking a warm bath or enjoying a cold glass of water. These things that were once so mundane now seem like luxuries I can only dream of.

I stare off in the dark towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by the desperation and hopelessness that's been building up inside me. I feel like I'm at my breaking point. I just can't take it anymore.

The thought of going another day without these necessities is almost too much to bear and I've never gotten used to it since I was fourteen.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps. Then the scrape of a key against the lock which jolted me upright. My heart thudded painfully in my chest , a wild mixture of hope and dread twisting inside me.

The door creaked open slowly, spilling blinding light into the room.

I covered my face with trembling hands, my parched lips parting.

Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the light. I forced myself to look up, squinting against the light. I saw two familiar figures. One with blonde hair and another with black straight hair. I hissed of course it was them.

"Oh my God," Bianca's mocking voice rang out. "Look at her, mum. She stinks. I can't bear the stench. I came here to mock her. That's what I came here for but..." she swept her eyes around the room before it landed on me. She eyes me from head to toe. Her face squeezed in disgust. "...I will be in my room." She turned and left.

Florence stepped in, her silk robe flowing around her. She looked me straight in the eye and I was too scared to dare her in a staring contest so I brought my head down. "Get up," she commanded harshly.

I tried to do so. God, I tried. My arms shook as I pushed against the floor. My legs trembled violently. The moment I managed to straighten, my knees buckled and I collapsed back with a soft whimper.

Florence signed, "Don," she called.

The guard stepped in immediately. His grip tightened around my arms and I bit my lips so I wouldn't cry from how his grip felt like steel as he hauled me up. My legs dangled beneath me, shaking uncontrollably. Every step was an agony.

"I would've loved to whip you but I'm just not in the mood, and besides you have to look good for..."

I whipped my head up so fast because I was curious about what she wanted to say next. Why do I have to look good? Last I checked, they never cared about how I looked. So why now?

"I will need you to freshen up and come to the dinning for breakfast. My husband has something important he will want you to do."

I stared at her with a confused face. "Why—why do I need to look good? "

"Don't you dare ask me stupid questions, Zerina. Be fast and freshen up. Don't keep us waiting. "

With that she walked out.

What must be this important thing father wants me to do?