Another woman, big with child, stood next to the bed in the center of the room. On the pillow next to her lay a bouquet of mint. Melindea slid her eyes along the bed. It was furnished simply. This one was not covered with soft silks and lavish pillows. Plain cotton sheets were tucked in tightly beneath the straw filled mattress. Instead of a gilded headboard carved with curving roses, this bed stood with a plain board at either end. On the pillow on the far end, two sprigs of sorrel were tied with a piece of string. The smell of mint and sorrel mixed with the smoke. Melindea almost swooned and reached for the wall. Condensation dripped down the cold stone. She began walking along the outer wall, trailing one hand against the cold, wet stone. The other woman motioned toward the bed. Melindea shook her head. She was not ready to give birth yet, not until Ivan came for her. He had promised to keep her safe, but here she was, locked in a tower with no escape. She surveyed the room as she walked. The two windows were too narrow for even a small woman to squeeze out of, much less one large with child. Besides, the ground was more than a hundred feet below. Even if she should squeeze out and survive the fall, she would soon be trampled by the mounted WolfRiders circling the base of the tower. She glanced again at the door. It’s heavy oak panels showed no weakness. The keyhole had been filled with wax. She had no doubt that the four guards who had escorted her up the stairs where still just outside, as much to keep Ivan out as to keep the women in. Which one of them would survive this night’s ordeal? Melindea wondered if Ivan had promised the woman next to the bed safe escape as well. She sighed before continuing her circuit around the tower cell. Fifty steps brought her back to the door where she first began.