Chapter 4 A Different Prison

When Indigo opened her eyes again, warm sunlight filtered through unfamiliar curtains, making her squint for a moment. She lay still, staring at the ceiling while trying to understand where she was. Then the memories returned all at once. Her mother's death. Dominic's betrayal. Caspian's cold eyes. The mansion. The room. She shut her eyes again, wishing it had all been a nightmare, but the dull ache spreading through her body reminded her it had all happened.

"So... it was real," she whispered.

She pushed herself upright, determined not to remain lying there like someone who had already surrendered, but the moment her feet touched the floor, weakness swept through her legs and forced her back onto the bed.

"Easy."

The gentle voice caught her attention.

Indigo turned toward the doorway and saw an elderly woman walking in with slow, graceful steps. Her long gunmetal-grey hair rested neatly over her shoulders, and her clear blue eyes carried a warmth Indigo had not seen since losing Sable. Deep lines marked her face, yet they only made her gentle smile seem more comforting.

The woman walked over and adjusted the pillow behind Indigo before helping her sit comfortably.

"I can see you're finally awake."

Indigo studied her quietly. There was something strangely familiar about those eyes. They reminded her so much of her mother's that, for a brief moment, her chest tightened.

Only then did she notice the room around her.

Nothing looked familiar.

The bed was larger than the one she remembered. The curtains were different. The furniture had changed completely.

Then another realization struck her.

She wasn't wearing the clothes she had fallen asleep in.

Almost instinctively, she pulled the blanket closer around herself.

The elderly woman understood the question in her eyes.

"I cleaned your wounds," she said softly. "Caspian asked me to move you here. This will be your room from now on."

My room.

The words echoed bitterly inside Indigo's mind.

A prisoner was still a prisoner, no matter how beautiful the cage looked.

The woman watched her silently, and pity flickered across her face. Indigo looked far too young to carry so much sorrow in her eyes.

"I'll have someone bring you something to eat," she said, placing a few tablets and a glass of water into Indigo's hands. "Take these first. They'll help your body recover."

Indigo hesitated.

Since arriving in this mansion, every word thrown at her had carried either hatred or command. This was the first time someone had spoken to her with kindness.

"Thank you," she said quietly before swallowing the medicine.

After handing back the empty glass, she lowered her head.

The memories threatened to return again, but this time she refused to let them consume her.

No.

She had cried enough.

She had lost enough.

If she kept breaking every time she remembered what had happened, then the people who destroyed her life had already won.

Her mother's voice drifted gently into her thoughts.

"Challenges make life difficult, sweetheart. Overcoming them is what makes life meaningful."

Indigo closed her eyes and drew in a slow breath.

"I'll survive this," she whispered.

The words were quiet, but they steadied something inside her.

She couldn't choose what had happened.

But she could choose whether it destroyed the person she wanted to become.

She might be trapped inside Caspian's mansion, but she refused to become what he kept calling her.

She would never accept being anyone's slave.

The bedroom door opened.

A maid entered carrying a tray of food.

The moment their eyes met, Indigo recognized her immediately.

Gia.

The same woman who had slapped her only hours ago.

Gia placed the tray on the bedside table with unnecessary force before shooting Indigo another cold glare. There was resentment in her eyes, mixed with something that looked strangely like jealousy.

Indigo couldn't understand it.

Why would this woman hate her?

If Gia knew what had happened inside this mansion... if she knew the price Indigo had already paid... she would realize there was nothing worth envying.

Gia lowered her head respectfully toward the elderly woman before leaving without another word.

Silence settled over the room once more.

"You should eat before it gets cold," the elderly woman said gently.

Indigo looked at the food but made no move toward it.

"How do I know it isn't poisoned?" she asked. "The man who owns this house wants me dead."

The woman sighed softly.

"Caspian doesn't want you dead."

Indigo lifted her eyes.

"How can you say that? He destroyed my life."

A shadow crossed the woman's face.

"My dear, if Caspian truly wanted you dead, he wouldn't waste time poisoning your food."

Indigo frowned.

"I don't understand."

"He was raised to believe that mercy is weakness."

The woman's voice became distant, as though she were remembering another time.

"The woman who raised him taught him that enemies should carry their pain for the rest of their lives."

Indigo listened without interrupting.

"She believed some wounds healed too easily. She used to say that a burn from a heated iron stayed forever."

Indigo's fingers tightened around the blanket.

"My father..." she said carefully. "Did he do something like that to Caspian?"

The woman looked toward the window instead of answering.

"Pain has a way of changing people," she said quietly. "Sometimes it changes them so completely that they no longer recognize themselves."

Indigo noticed the question had been avoided.

Again.

"My father..." she whispered. "What did he really do?"

The woman met her eyes once more.

"There are truths that cannot be told all at once."

Silence filled the room.

Finally, the woman spoke again.

"May I give you one piece of advice?"

Indigo nodded.

"Don't fight Caspian with hatred."

A bitter smile crossed Indigo's lips.

"What else do I have?"

"You still have yourself."

The answer caught Indigo off guard.

The woman continued gently, "You never knew the boy he once was, and he no longer remembers him either. Revenge has become the only language he speaks. If you answer hatred with hatred, both of you will lose far more than either of you realizes."

Indigo lowered her eyes.

"I don't even know why I'm paying for any of this."

"No," the woman said softly. "You don't."

She slowly rose from the chair.

"And perhaps that is the saddest part of this story."

Indigo looked up before she reached the door.

"Who are you?"

The elderly woman smiled gently.

"My name is Elena."

She paused before adding quietly, "I'm Caspian's grandmother."

Indigo stared at her in disbelief.

"Then please..." she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. "If you're his grandmother, make him let me go. I don't know anything about whatever happened between him and my father."

Pain clouded Elena's eyes.

"I wish it were that simple, child."

"Then make him listen."

A sad smile touched Elena's lips.

"I've spent years trying."

There was no anger in her voice, only exhaustion.

"You won't understand... not yet."

She opened the door and paused for a brief moment, as though she wanted to say something else.

Instead, she walked out and quietly closed the door behind her.

Indigo remained seated on the bed, staring at the closed door.

Elena had answered almost nothing, yet somehow she had revealed everything that mattered.

One thing was certain now.

Everyone inside this mansion knew the truth about the past.

Except her.