Freya‘s pov.

The room was too quiet.

Even the silence felt like a trap.

I paced the narrow stretch between the stone wall and the iron-framed bed, every step echoing like a threat. The flickering candle on the dresser cast long shadows that danced with every breath I took. Shadows of a girl pretending to be calm. Pretending to be in control.

I wasn’t.

“What are we waiting for?” I finally asked, breaking the silence like glass underfoot. My voice echoed ...