57 Where Hopes Die

Her words were cold, as much so as she could muster. Even though her limbs were burning and her back felt like it was about to snap into two, Daphne still dragged herself out of the bed for the first time in days. Spite was a powerful motivator. 

She ignored the pounding in her head and, under Atticus's shocked stare, gave him a polite curtsy before limping out of the room.

He had leaned forward for a second, wanting to support her and possibly lead her back onto the bed, but Daphne simply dodged. She didn't even spare his outstretched hands a second glance, evading his hold before reaching for the door. Just like that, she walked out in silence, slamming the door shut behind her.

Once she was out of his sight, she allowed herself one tear. Just one to mourn for the loss of the budding warmth in her heart.

And after that one tear, she roughly wiped her cheek dry. First things first, she would have to look for the dungeons.