Thanks to Wendy's exceptional emotional intelligence from childhood, she might not have been able to make all her older siblings like her, but she had at least ensured that none of them disliked her.
As a result, she had hardly ever been punished growing up, much less thrown into a dungeon.
Strangely, though, despite this being her first time confined in such a dark, damp place, she had developed an increasingly strong sense of déjà vu over the past few days.
It felt as though she were reliving a stretch of time she had already experienced, every detail familiar.
The shapes of the water stains on the walls, the patterns of rust on the iron bars, the angle of the light coming through the window... everything felt inexplicably familiar.
It even left her unsure whether she had experienced this before or... dreamed it.
"So you still haven't changed your mind, have you?"
A voice interrupted her thoughts.
Wendy looked up and saw the man who called himself the Crown Prince's steward standing outside her cell, his hands clasped in front of him and an intrigued expression on his face.
His appearance, along with his current expression and tone, also gave Wendy a powerful sense of déjà vu.
Wendy rested her folded hands on her knees and answered calmly:
"Changed my mind? I've never done anything I need to change my mind about. You, on the other hand, have come to ask me the same question again. Don't you find it tedious?"
The steward smiled faintly, an inscrutable meaning lurking in his smile. "Not at all, because I'm giving you a chance."
Wendy shook her head gently, her voice still calm. "Then I suggest you give up sooner rather than later, because I won't leave this cell that way, much less