Hey, all! I feel like I start all of these little author's notes with apologies for not updating, but I ain't doing that today!!! Only because my boyfriend has been really getting on me about unnecessary apologies, lol.
ANYWAY
This chapter has been done for a couple of days, but I once again did the thing where I planned a POV switch toward the end of the chapter. As it normally does, it took a life of its own and became its own chapter. That being said, I plan to release the next chapter by the end of the weekend!
I hope you enjoy this chapter! Make sure to let me know what you think by leaving a comment; they always make my day!
(Y/N's POV)
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The ever-present dripping of the water was deafening in the silent stone cell of the dungeon. The only other sound present in the desolate space was my harsh, hollow breathing. It too was deafening in the silence. My breathing, stuttered and wheezy, the pitiful sounds echoing off of the stone walls on three of four sides of me. I could both hear and feel the fluid rattling around in my lungs every time I breathed, and I had picked up a harsh cough. It rattled my chest, and the back of my throat was raw from the force of the violent fits of coughing I experienced.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The already ugly wound I had sustained to my side had somehow become worse; I had never seen a wound so infected before. The skin surrounding the injury was red and hot with infection. I knew I was sporting quite the fever despite the cold sweat that beaded on my forehead and dripped down my back, drenching my already ruined dress.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Though I knew it was freezing in the tiny cell, I had stopped shivering long ago. When my body had stopped its innate response to try and keep me warm, I knew my fate was locked. My body was shutting down, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I had done everything to stave off infection, to keep the wound clean, but without the proper materials and within a dirty cell, my effort was all for naught.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Instead of feeling the cold I knew was infesting the small space, I was completely numb. Even the massive, infected wound on my side was now numb. The only sign of injury I had without looking at it was the stench of infection wafting through the space and clinging to the scraps of fabric that were once a dress.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Klaus has been by my cell every day since his first visit, but as time passed, I became less and less aware of his daily visits. However, I could only guess they were daily; there was no way to track time being this far underground. My vision was blurry and weak like the rest of my body. I only knew the dark elf visited my cell because of his grating voice.
He kept to the schedule of bringing me my daily meal, but once I had stopped eating the meager excuse for a meal, he took to leaning against my cell door to eat the food himself, talking to himself all the while. Well, I knew for a fact he was directing his words at me, but I didn't have the capacity or care to listen to his mindless mutterings anymore. I'm sure his words were filled with malice and mockery as he reminded me that no one was coming to save me now that my husband was dead. I wanted to stay strong, to refuse to give the enemy the victory, but I was beginning to believe his harsh words. And that was more frightening than anything else I had experienced thus far. Simply blocking him out was the only solace I could grant myself, and even that wasn't speaking for much.
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