Freya walked swiftly down the long, dim corridors of the castle, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. Her heart was still racing, both from anger and confusion.
The heavy wooden door to her assigned room came into view, and she pushed it open with more force than necessary, stepping inside and shutting it behind her with a soft thud.
Leaning her back against the door, she let out a long breath.
What had she gotten herself into?
First kidnapped, now trapped in a mad king's castle, and now... a game? A twisted, arrogant way for him to amuse himself at her expense?
Freya pulled off the uncomfortable black shoes she wore and walked barefoot across the cold floor to the mirror.
Her reflection stared back at her — tired green eyes, messy hair from the stress, and a tight set to her lips she hadn't even realized was there.
"You're losing yourself," she whispered to her reflection.
The strong Freya, the survivor, the one Miami had raised — where was she now?
Her fingers reached instinctively for the pendant around her neck — the one Miami had given her before her death.
Holding it tightly, she moved to the small window overlooking the courtyard, where only the faint glow of the night torches lit the darkness.
Closing her eyes, Freya tilted her head upward.
In a soft, broken voice, she prayed:
"Miami... wherever you are... protect me. Watch over me like you always did. I don't know what's waiting for me here, but I need your strength now more than ever."
A soft breeze passed through the tiny gap in the window, brushing her hair like an unseen hand.
For a moment, it felt almost like a touch from beyond — light, warm, familiar.
Tears stung her eyes, but she wiped them away stubbornly.
"No crying, Freya," she muttered under her breath. "You survived worse."
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly into the shadows, her mind racing.
King Sebastian's words played over and over in her head.
"This is a game... and I never lose."
A chill ran down her spine.
Tomorrow would come fast.
Whatever the king had planned, she would face it — with all the stubborn fire Miami had always praised her for.
And maybe... just maybe... she'd find a way to beat him at his own game.