CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE - When Stars Fall From Grace

Aria's eyes fluttered open, her consciousness returning in fragments. Silken sheets caressed her skin—a stark contrast to the cold cell she had anticipated. The ceiling above her featured intricate wooden beams, not the damp stone she'd expected from a fortress prison. "What the hell?" she whispered, pushing herself upright. Her body ached from the fight and subsequent capture, but nothing seemed broken. She wore the same clothes from before, though someone had removed her boots and jacket. The chamber was unexpectedly luxurious—a four-poster bed with deep burgundy curtains, polished wooden furniture, and a stone fireplace where flames danced hypnotically. A plush rug covered most of the floor, and heavy velvet drapes framed a tall window. "This isn't right," Aria muttered, swinging her legs over the bed's edge. Her first instinct was to check for restraints, but there were none. Her second was to look for guards, but the room appeared empty. Her third was to test the door, which