CHAPTER SEVEN
On the fifth day of her investigation, someone tried to kill her.
Liora had finally been forced into unconsciousness by sheer physical exhaustion, her body had simply shut down despite her mind's protests, when a sound pierced through the fog of sleep with startling clarity.
Click.
The cage door was unlocking.
Her eyes snapped open instantly, but years of being invisible in the palace had taught her to wake silently, to assess threats without betraying consciousness. She remained perfectly still, her breathing unchanged, her eyes barely slitted open just enough to see through her lashes.
A figure moved into the cage with purposeful steps. Male, she judged from the silhouette. Young, maybe mid-twenties. His entire posture was wrong, tense, coiled like a spring, radiating the particular energy of someone about to commit violence. Moonlight from the floor-to-ceiling windows gleamed off something in his hand, catching the light with an unmistakable metallic gleam.
