That stone had taken the one thing that had been constant in me my entire life. It didn’t just suppress it, it quieted it, lured it away, until it felt like it had never existed at all.
“Do you know what this is, Odessa?” Gadriel questioned, raising it closer.
The stone’s presence made my heart sputter. Pressure was building in my chest, squeezing, biting. It was like being crushed beneath water I couldn’t surface from.
“I didn’t even know such a thing existed,” he murmured. “Not until after you left.”
“When you disappeared, Odessa, I was consumed. I couldn’t breathe through the rage.How dare she leave me? How dare she turn her back? Lie to me. Betray the Crown.” He let out a sharp breath. “It never stopped. The thoughts spun through me like a wheel I couldn’t break. They stole sleep from my body and sanity from my mind. And in those sleepless nights, the rage changed. It became something else. It became retribution.”
Gadriel ran his thumb slowly over the surface of the stone. “But something answered those cries of injustice. And when it did, it was as if a veil had lifted from my eyes.”
He was calm, almost reflective, as if he were recounting some sort of revelation. “You didn’t need punishment, Odessa. Not truly. What you needed was redirection. How could you have known better? A posing skirtsfolk dragged out of the slums with no etiquette, no manners, no sense of decorum. You came to me raw, unshaped. I had to mold you into what you became.”
He paused, eyes still on the stone. “But I gave you too much freedom. I allowed you will. And in that mistake, you rebelled. You wandered. You acted out. How could I have expected more from someone so defiant?” His amber eyes lifted to mine. “What you needed was discipline. A return to the means I used in the beginning. You were never lacking in potential, Odessa, you simply needed to be taught.”
Even with the air thinning around me, I was in disbelief. Gadriel was truly, utterly insane.
“And I will teach you,” he went on. “In my most frenzied moments, in the spiral of everything you left undone, the darkest parts of me cried out. And something answered: a devil. He came to me when I was at my lowest, when my mind was splintering from the noise you left behind. And he listened. He saw what you had done to me. The betrayal. The abandonment.”
Gadriel stepped closer, fingers still curling around the talisman. “He offered me retribution. A clean, brutal end. But I refused, of course. I’m not a monster. Instead, he offered me something far sweeter. He showed me a vision. A future shaped by my hand. A world I could build, greater than anything I’d imagined. And at the center of it all… was you.”
He stepped back, slipping the stone into his pocket. The pressure eased, just slightly.
“This devil, this creature,” Gadriel continued, “he told me things. Things I hadn’t seen, hadn’t considered. He opened my eyes, and I’ve never looked at the world the same way since. I always knew Torhiel was a land touched by devils, but I didn’t realize how deeply embedded they were. That they were here. Among us. Infiltrating my kingdom. And I had no idea I’d brought one back myself. I’d plucked one off the street during my travels.You.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine.
“And yet,” he went on, “after everything you’ve done. After all the pain you’ve caused me, I don’t regret it. Not a moment of it. In fact, I’m grateful. You, a devil in my midst, sharing my bed, draining my resources, weaving your influence into my life. Still, I see it differently. You weren’t a mistake. You were an investment. A test. A trial I had to endure in order to reach what I was always meant to claim.”
Then his voice dropped lower, more venomous.
“You are a devil, Odessa,” he hissed. “And instead of answering for your crimes against the Crown, you’ll answer to me.”
He stepped forward and something fevered flashed in his eyes.
“I learned much during my time in Torhiel. I know what runs through your veins,” he recounted. “I know what you carry. That power inside you, Hadeon showed it to me. He told me what he could do with Vengeance. But you, he said, hold something just as potent. Different, yes, but no less powerful.”
There was purpose in Gadriel’s posture now.
“Yours is steeped in Wrath. And that,” he said quietly, “is exactlywhat I need in this kingdom. For too long, I’ve waited. Watched. Sat obediently, expecting my reward to come. But I see clearly now. If I want to change this world, I must be the one to lift my hand first.”
Gadriel stepped back from the cage, eyes distant. “I will be the ruler this realm needs. The cityfolk will understand that in time.”
Then, without another glance, he turned and walked out the door.
Just like that, I was trapped in Hyrall once more.
In Hyrall,time was structured again. Gadriel had left me locked in his room, caged like some animal. No one had passed by since. I couldn’t even hear the usual shuffle of noblefolk in the corridors. The air felt lighter now since Gadriel had taken the talisman with him, but the iron bars held firm. No matter how I pushed or pulled, they didn’t give.
I glanced around and realized I was in his drawing room, a space he barely used. It was empty, aside from a chaise and a small table. I was positioned in front of a large window, though the curtains had been pulled shut. My back was beginning to ache from the position I’d been stuck in. My knees pressed against the hard base of the cage, and I could already feel the sting of bruises forming. The light outside was starting to fade, and I had no idea how long I’d be kept here, or if Gadriel planned to return at all.
Did Gadriel understand what this would do to me? That without mortal bargains, my lifeforce would begin to slip away? That I would weaken, slowly, and fade?
My breath caught as I heard the soft click of a lock turning and the faint sound of footsteps approaching. I shifted, trying to sit up straighter, my eyes fixed on the doorway. But the footsteps weren’t Gadriel’s. They lacked his weight and his rhythm. These were lighter, quieter.
A young stewardess stepped into the room, a tray balanced in her hands, and a cloth draped above it. She moved toward me, toward the cage, but something about her was off. Her motions were stiff, unnatural, as if she were going through it mechanically rather than will. As she drew closer, I studied her face. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused. Like she wasn’t fully present.
She set the tray down in front of me without a word, placing it gently on the floor. With careful hands, she lifted the cloth to reveal a small plate holding a tart and a cup of tea. Then she straightened, dipping her head slightly, as if I were someone to be bowed to.
