Chapter 166: Fever
Rhaegar braced himself for whatever was to come, but to his bewilderment, the man with the torch lamp merely gave him a cursory glance, as if assessing his physical state. Without another word, the stranger ordered him to stay quiet and walked away, leaving the cell shrouded in darkness once more.
Silence fell, broken only by the frantic thudding of Rhaegar’s heartbeat—a broken drum echoing in his ears, relentless and unsettling.
He decided to wait and see. Surely, the man would return and explain what was happening. But he never did. Rhaegar waited still—how long, he couldn’t say. The stillness in his cell was unrelenting, like the weight of a tomb.
More than once, he slipped into unconsciousness, his body succumbing to hunger and exhaustion. The little water he had found in a large, rusted metal bowl shoved into the corner of the cell—likely left behind by a previous prisoner—had done little to quench his thirst. Once it was gone, the maddening dryness in his throat returned, clawing at him with its sharp nails.
Rats scurried in and out of the cell, their faint squeaks ricocheting off the stone walls. Cara had taught him how to catch and cook them with his bare hands, but here, confined and helpless, he had nothing to work with.
Even as hunger gnawed at him like a ravenous beast, the thought of chasing and devouring a rat alive became a nauseating thought. In time, he abandoned the idea altogether, his will sapped by the suffocating despair of captivity.
It must be their tactic, he thought, resting his heavy head against the cold, dirt-streaked floor. Whatever they brought me here for... They’re trying to wear me down. To make me weak so I won’t fight back.
The moment his head collided with the chilled surface of the earth, Rhaegar let out a ragged sigh of relief. The cold air, combined with relentless hunger and thirst, had taken its toll. Fever burned through his frail body, leaving him drenched in sweat and trembling uncontrollably.
Each fleeting moment of unconsciousness brought no reprieve. Feverish nightmares clawed at his mind, dragging him through a haze of torment that rivaled the grim reality of his imprisonment.