Chapter 315 --315
Mahir paused, looking genuinely confused as he pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. "Well, I greeted you," he replied, his voice strained by the absurdity of the scene. He leaned forward, searching her unreadable face. "Don’t you want to go out, Your Highness? Do you not find it... so uncomfortable? Why are you so calm?".
Elara looked up from her plate, her dark eyes drifting from Mahir to the food and back again. "No," she said simply. "Not interested.". She returned her focus to the steak, dismissing him with the same efficiency she had once used to dismiss corrupt ministers.
The beast knights simply could not understand the psychological landscape they were navigating. At one point, Kane, convinced that Elara was merely playing a long game of psychological warfare, had surreptitiously unlocked her chain. He hoped that the sudden freedom would trigger an escape attempt, giving them a reason to recapture her or at least proving that she felt the "unusual" nature of her situation.
But Elara didn’t run. Even with the chain removed, she simply remained on the bed and slept. She slept so much that the guards found it difficult to even breathe normally in the oppressive silence of her rest. Her schedule was a testament to her total lack of urgency: she woke at 11 in the morning to eat, only to return to her dreams by 1 in the afternoon. She would wake again at 7 in the evening, eat a second meal, and read a few Chapters of a book with detached interest. Then, precisely at 10 at night, she would begin yawning and return to sleep until the next morning.
The seventh day of confinement within the capital’s hidden hold dawned much like the others, defined by a stillness so absolute it seemed to unnerve the very stones of the chamber. Elara was already awake, propped against a mountain of silk pillows, her attention anchored to the pages of a book she had requested. The heavy iron chain remained attached to her wrist, its metallic weight a constant, grounding presence against the fine linens.
Mahir entered the room once more, his footsteps heavy with a frustration he could no longer mask. He took his accustomed seat directly across from her, his posture rigid. Elara did not look up from her reading, her eyes tracking the text with clinical focus.
"Why do you look so... tense?" Elara asked, her voice flat and devoid of the expected agitation of a prisoner. She followed the question with a slow, genuine yawn.
"Your Highness," Mahir began, his voice tight, "you have just woken up".
Elara offered a slight nod, finally turning a page. "Maybe one hour ago".
"And it is about eleven in the morning," Mahir noted, his gaze searching her face for any sign of psychological collapse.