AYASHA'S POV
The guards led me through corridors that felt different in daylight. The same stone walls, the same torch brackets, but somehow less threatening without the weight of a death sentence hanging over my head. My wrists still ached where the ropes had cut into them, and my throat felt raw from the noose, but I was alive. I was breathing. That had to count for something.
We were halfway to what I assumed were the competitors' quarters because I still was not used to the architecture when a servant appeared from a side passage. She was young, maybe sixteen, with the kind of nervous energy that came from working in a royal household where mistakes could be fatal.
"Excuse me," she said to the guards, her voice pitched low and respectful. "I have instructions regarding the competitor."
One of the guards grunted acknowledgment. The other looked annoyed at the interruption.
