Clover
Clover had lost track of the time, lost track of the days. Minutes blended into hours, hours turned into days, days to weeks. It had been weeks since Peter gave her the letter in her book. True to his word he had come back the next day and when they went for their walk in the gardens Clover spotted the familiar owl. The owl that Peter had somehow, in his letter, forewarned her was fae.
She wondered who it was. She knew he was from Tamarisk. Was he a soldier? Was he a member of Cassius’ court? Was he trustworthy? Why did Cassius care about her at all? She figured he wouldn't care at all. That he would be okay with his mate rotting in this god's forsaken prison. Others called it a lab but Clover called it for what it was. A glorified torture prison.
As much as Peter tried to save
