Although she has been marking down on the walls - very clearly, very publicly, very visibly - the days that pass, she cannot be sure she isn't missing some. How long did it take to get her here? How many days passed while she was unconscious? How many truly passed down in the dungeon? She thinks that it was ten days ago that she last saw her boys-
(or nine?)
(or eleven?)
-and with every day that passes she grows more detached from the concept of days.
She is back to boredom
and monotony
and isolation
and the sort of anxious foreboding that makes her muscles ache.
She is doing as she's told (because she has to protect them)
She is behaving as she's supposed to (because there's a chance it's protecting them)
She is being a good and demure maiden (because, oh god, maybe it means something)
She marks the days on the wall.
She hasn't cried again since that first night when she broke down.
Sometimes she tells herself she is biding her time, but doesn't know what for.