I sat on the floor of the room, my back pressed against the cold wall, my knees hugged tightly to my chest. A week. Seven long days of being locked in, of being starved of more than just food. Every meal Henry brought me I refused. Not because I wanted to starve, but because the weight in my chest had crushed my appetite entirely.“Please, Nova… just take a bite,” Henry pleaded one afternoon, hovering near the small tray. His eyes were filled with worry, and his hands trembled slightly as he tried to coax me.“I… I can’t,” I whispered, my voice hollow. “I’m not hungry.”Henry’s shoulders slumped, and he glanced at the door as though wishing Frederick would appear to put an end to this misery.When Frederick finally did come, it wasn’t with concern for me—not really. His steps were deliberate, measured, every inch the man I had grown to both admire and fear. He entered the room silently, his dark eyes unreadable as they scanned my pale, fragile form.“Henry,” he said finally, his voice
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