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5 - Caged Bird Singing

Ivar

I pinch the bridge of my nose, the incessant banging echoing through the halls like a drumbeat of defiance. She’s been at it for what feels like hours now, and as much as I admire her spirit, it’s starting to grate on my last nerve.

As I step into the room, just in time to catch her mid-swing with the cup she was given at dinner, I can’t help but let out a half-amused, half-exasperated chuckle.

“Are you quite done making all that noise?” I ask, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.

She whirls around, the fire in her eyes blazing even brighter at the sight of me. “If you’re going to treat me like a caged bird, I might as well sing like one,” she retorts, and I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips.

This one’s got spirit, no denying that, and for a moment, I’m amused. It’s been a long time since anyone dared to speak to me with such defiance.

I push off from the door frame and walk towards her, noting the way her eyes flicker with fear. But she doesn’t shrink back; in
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