Mari woke with a start. Her head pounded, and for a moment, she wasn't sure where she was. The last thing she remembered was the struggle— the rough hands grabbing her, the cloth pressed over her mouth, the darkness swallowing her whole.
Now, she was in a bed. A soft bed. A very soft and comfortable bed that made her want to keep sleeping.
Neither her hands nor her legs were bound.
Why was she not tied to a chair or something? Wasn't that how things like this happened? She mused as she sat up slowly, her body tense and ready for pain. But nothing hurt.
The room around her was too beautiful, too perfect. The walls were a warm cream color, the curtains a soft gold. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals sparkling. The bed itself had silk sheets, and the pillows were fluffy like clouds. A heavy wooden dresser stood against one wall, and across from the bed was a large mirror that ran from floor to ceiling, covering the wall.
