Emily left the dining room, her heart heavy and her mind swirling with a storm of conflicting emotions. The thick carpet beneath her feet did nothing to soften the weight of her shame and humiliation. She had believed she could resist Alexander, preserve some fragment of dignity. But tonight, kneeling before him, eating from his hand, she had crossed a line she no longer knew how to uncross.

She found herself in the dark hallway, her frail silhouette casting a flickering shadow on the walls adorned with ancient paintings. When she entered her room, she froze. Her eyes swept across the space, lingering on every detail. The walls were bare, devoid of decoration, and the furniture was limited to a single dresser and a small nightstand. But what struck her most was the complete absence of a bed.