The metal door opened with a creaking sound. Light from the hallway slowly entered the stuffy basement. Elena lifted her face—wilted, tired, but still alert.

Margaret's steps were clearly audible, the high heels of the middle-aged woman bouncing on the cement floor. In her hands were a brown folder and a bottle of water. Her hair was in a neat bun, and her face remained stern.

"Have you had enough rest, Queen Elena?" Margaret asked calmly.

Elena did not answer. Her gaze was still sharp.

Margaret approached, placing the water bottle on the floor. "Have a drink. I know you're thirsty. It's been two days since you ate or drank....