Lyla paced the small room, a blanket thrown about her shoulders to ward off the chill that crept in from chinks between the rock wall, from the window set high up in that wall. She’d been watching that window for most of the day, marking the time it took for the bottom edge of the sun to appear, and then reveling in the warmness that the setting globe gave. But it was long gone now, and she was restless.

She had been unpleasant to the Velander, and it now refused to talk to her beyond complaints that air was getting in through the drawstring top of the pouch it was stored in.

“Get me out of this room, and I’ll find a solid container for you,” she’d retorted.

But mostly, Lyla was worried. She’d not been sleeping well, and that impending sense of danger seemed to be steadily coming closer again. Though it still felt far away, it was gaining every day, until she felt herself nigh ready to scream with the frustration of being cooped up and unable to do anything. A thought gave her pause. Crossing the room, she knocked on her door.

“Guards?” she called softly. There was no reply. “Hello? I know you’re out there… if you’re not, I’ll just have to come out.”

She heard a small rustling noise as the guards turned to look at each other. Then a man called out.

“We are here. What do you want?”

Lyla plied her sweetest, most innocent tone. “I just wondered, since I can not leave my room; if you could bring Sir Michael down to visit me for a few minutes.” She paused. “It’s really rather lonely in here.”

The men mumbled something to each other. “We’re not sure that’s a good idea, Miss. Queen Rachelle, she was mighty firm about us not letting anything in this room.”

Biting back a surge of frustration, Lyla replied, “She only said that no food except for bread be allowed in. She never said anything about letting people in.”

The two guard mumbled some more, longer this time. There was a long hesitation.

Then, “We’ll go tell Sir Michael that you would like to see him. If he wants to risk the queen’s anger and comply with your request, then that is totally up to him.”

Lyla smiled to herself behind the door. “Thank you, good sirs. Might I persuade one of you to carry a note to him? It’s just a matter about a book I’d like to read. He could bring it when, or if, he comes.”

“That’ll be fine, Lady Lyla. Just write it out and slip it under the door. We’ll take it for you.”