“What’s your name?” I whispered, just before she turned away.
She paused, but the emptiness in her eyes didn’t shift. She began to step back, and panic flared low in my stomach. I reached through the bars and caught her wrist, stopping her. Her face didn’t change. No fear, no surprise. Just that same blank, faraway look. There was a flicker of resistance in her arm, but not enough to break free.
“Who are you?” I asked again. “Has he hurt you? Has he done something to you?”
Still, her eyes drifted past me, unfocused. I pressed my nails into her skin, not enough to wound, but enough to demand something, anything. She didn’t even blink.
What had Gadriel done to her? Drugged her? Controlled her? She was too young to be this empty.
I felt anger rise in me violently, but it wasn’t Wrath. It was something quieter, something simpler. It felt painfully human. With the stewardess so close, I was able to really look at her, and there was something else strange. Something else off. My eyes were drawn to the lower half of her face. Her mouth was closed, but it sat oddly. Like it was slightly sunken. Its shape looked unnatural at rest, as if holding it shut required effort. What caused that?
Then the realization hit me and I almost cried out.
Gadriel had cut out her tongue.
He had taken her speech. Something so basic, so deeply hers. A voice that belonged to her alone. He had stolen it like it meant nothing. I stared at her, and something in me split. My chest tightened. My grip went slack, and her wrist slipped from my hand. She didn’t react. Her face remained blank. She rose slowly, like our exchange hadn’t happened at all, and walked out the door in silence.
I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.
I couldn’t make peace with this version of reality. One where I had tasted freedom, found pieces of myself I never knew were missing. Where I’d finally begun to become who I was meant to be. And now I was back here. Locked in a cage, inside a stone tower, with a madman as my captor.
I used to think being forced into the role of the prince’s consort was its own kind of hell. But this, this was something else entirely.
Gadriel’s mind had splintered. I always knew his hunger for power was one of his greatest flaws, but I never imagined my absence would drive him this far. He had broken. He was speaking like he was living in another world altogether. Detached from reality. Completely out of control.
I shut my eyes, pulled inward, and searched for the parts of myself that had carried me through that first year in Hyrall. The parts that learned how to suppress everything. Push down the panic, dull the emotions, and focus only on getting through. The walls of my mind felt like they were closing in, and the only thing I could do was breathe, steady and controlled. I tried to reach for the flame that still lived inside me. My Wrath. But it was so faint now, so still, I worried it was disappearing altogether.
Hyrall had always been the place that hollowed me. And now, being back, that hollow ache returned with a suffocating weight.
When I opened my eyes again, it was nightfall. Had I fallen asleep? Darkness pressed in around me, and my limbs had gone numb. Was I going to be stuck in this cage forever? If I stayed here long enough, Iknew I’d lose myself. I could feel it already. Something in me was beginning to unravel. I told myself I wouldn’t let it happen. I swore I wouldn’t let desperation take hold. That I could survive the pain, the isolation, the silence, and still keep something of myself intact. That no matter what Gadriel did, he wouldn’t break me. I’d die fighting before I gave him that satisfaction.
But only a few chimes had passed, and already that vow felt fragile.
I was angry.Soangry. After everything I’d done to escape this place, I was right back here. And it had come at a cost. I’d paid for that freedom with my body. With my soul. With every part of me. What more was it going to take from me?
A strangled cry tore from my throat as I slammed my hand against the tray in front of me. The cold tart went flying, and the cup tipped over, tea splattering across the stone floor in a messy arc. The sound echoed loudly in the room.
“Not hungry?” Gadriel’s voice cut through the silence. “If I remember correctly, you used to favor those tarts.”
My eyes snapped upward. His silhouette stood in the doorway of the drawing room. He looked at me through the bars with something close to pity on his face, but I knew better.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, stepping closer. “There isn’t much time left. We have somewhere to be.”
As he approached, that familiar pressure thickened in the air. I winced as it closed in around me, suffocating.
“Karst. Regis. Come,” Gadriel commanded calmly, like this was all routine.
The two knights strode into the room, but something about them was off as well. The sight of my former watchman made my body tense instinctively, but his eyes held that same glassy emptiness as the stewardess. Leya’s old guard was no different. There was something wrong inboth of them.
“Both of you,” Gadriel began, “retrieve her, and cover her. We’ve only a short time to reach the ironsmith.”
Sir Karst and Sir Regis obeyed without a word. They moved toward the cage, and I felt the urge to strike, to lash out like a snake in its den. But these men were soldiers, trained by the Crown, forged by war. They were built for this.
I was a demigod, but that didn’t make me unbreakable. My power lived in emotion, in Wrath, and Wrath was only as strong as the one who wielded it. Right now, it was silent. I was exhausted. And in truth, I was still vulnerable.
In Torhiel, I’d had more to give, more strength to pull from. But here, in the mortal realm, she couldn’t reach me. Here, I was exposed. Unprotected.
Sir Karst unlocked the latch with a key I hadn’t seen. His grip was rough as he pulled me out of the cage, and Sir Regis was already beside him, taking hold of my other arm. There was no use resisting, not that I tried anyway.
