Kleo and Aliza started hurting from hunger and dehydration. They pleaded with the Devourer when they entered in the morning.
In response to their pleas, the only thing they were given was bread and stale water.
Just enough to keep them alive.
Just enough to make the life force drain slower.
But Aliza had figured out a trick: soak the crust in water for close to a minute, chew slowly, and pretend it was something else entirely.
"Pomegranate-glazed venison," she said, eyes half-lidded, leaning against the bars.
Kleo snorted. "What kind of pretentious nobles eat glazed venison?"
Aliza looked mock-offended. "It's not pretentious! It's delicious."
Kleo tore at the wet bread, chewed slowly, and raised a brow. "I dunno… tastes like rat bread with a side of despair."
They both laughed. It felt strange, laughter, like something forbidden in a place like this. But they clung to it.
As they chewed in silence, Kleo asked, "If we get out of here… what's the first thing you're gonna do?"
