102

The cold, damp walls of the cell seemed to close in on Freya as she sat on the narrow cot, her expression a mixture of defiance and weariness. The footsteps echoing down the corridor signaled the approach of someone important, and when the heavy door creaked open, Freya’s gaze locked onto the figure entering. Lysandra, the self-proclaimed ultimate sorcerer, stood before her, her presence commanding attention.

“Freya,” Lysandra greeted with a twisted smile. “How delightful to see you again.”

Freya’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing as she met Lysandra’s gaze. “Save the pleasantries, Lysandra. I’m not here to engage in a friendly chat.”

Lysandra chuckled, a sound that held a hint of amusement. “Oh, I’m well aware of that, dear. But perhaps you’ll change your tune once you hear what I have to say.”

Freya rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I highly doubt it.”

Lysandra took a step closer, her eyes boring into Freya’s with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Yo