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The princess's solitary vigil

The young Irish princess, with her pale, freckled skin and fiery red hair, sat alone in the dimly lit chamber. Her arms were bound above her head, the ropes digging into her sensitive skin. The room was filled with the scent of incense and the faint hum of beeswax candles. She glared angrily at the tapestry hanging on the wall, her big hoop earrings and gold armbands catching the light from a single candle. Despite her anger, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her, their presence heavy in the air.