Zyra POV
The sun was barely filtering through the heavy curtains, painting the polished floor in muted gold. My head throbbed faintly, remnants of exhaustion from the games and my injuries still lingering.
Slowly, I pushed myself up from the bed, muscles stiff, the bandages on my arm and leg reminding me that I had survived but just barely.
The room smelled faintly of cedar and something else… clean. Someone had tidied up. Someone had been here.
I swallowed, trying to ignore the quickening of my pulse, and eased my way toward the door. Every step was careful; I didn’t want to startle anyone or perhaps, I wanted to avoid Dael.
Curiosity gnawed at me. This house… it was vast, unlike anything I’d ever seen. Marble floors, dark polished wood, walls adorned with heavy portraits, the eyes
