The door to your room clicked shut with a soft finality, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet space. You stood still, chest heaving from your failed attempt to escape, as The Knave stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the lavish furnishings of the room. It was a far cry from the cold, dark cells you’d heard about—the kind reserved for ordinary prisoners. But then again, you weren’t ordinary.

You were a demigod—a demigod child, and this gilded cage was your prison.

The room was luxurious, decorated with ornate tapestries and soft velvet chairs, with a grand bed at the center draped in rich fabric. It was beautiful, almost opulent, but the windows remained firmly locked, and the heavy door could only be opened from the outside. No amount of elegance could change what it truly was: a prison.

The Knave stood in the middle of the room, her crimson eyes calm and unwavering as she watched you. Her posture was relaxed, hands at her sides, but there was a quiet power to her presence that made the air feel heavier. She was dressed impeccably, as always, her dark coat and sharp attire matching the lethal elegance she carried in everything she did.

“You never stop trying, do you?” she said, her voice low but carrying a faint note of amusement. There was no anger, no frustration. Just that same eerie calm that made your skin prickle.

The Knave crossed the room in slow, deliberate steps, the soft click of her boots muffled by the thick carpets. Her crimson eyes were fixed on you, unreadable as ever, though tonight they carried a strange glint—something between amusement and curiosity.

“You’re fast,” she remarked, almost like a compliment. “But not fast enough. Not yet.”

She stopped a few feet away from you, her eyes lingering on the window behind you. The sky outside was a dark, endless stretch, dotted with faint stars, but you knew there was no escaping through it. You had tried. Every possible exit was sealed.