My mother’s eyes moved slowly around the dining room, wide with quiet wonder at the gold, the crystal, the light. She had likely never stood in a place like this. A faint crease lingered between her brows, a trace of confusion. But then her face softened into something calm. As she always did when she felt fear, she started to hum gently. And below her waist, her thumbs moved in slow, overlapping circles beneath the weight of the chains.
The sound of her humming carved guilt deep into my chest.
Tears welled up fast and fell harder. I had failed her. Left her behind. Led her into the arms of a madman. My body shook helplessly. Gadriel’s hand clamped down harder on my shoulder. He didn’t speak, but I felt his satisfaction.
Tears clouded my vision as I looked at my mother again, and finally, her eyes met mine. I wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but no words came. Instead, my mother just tilted her head and smiled at me. Like nothing had changed. Like we were back in Brier Len, in our old cottage, safe.
Then she spoke.
“Hush, my little raven. Everything will be alright.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” I blurted.
The ache inside me erupted, releasing a rush of something primal that sent me lunging from the chair. But Gadriel moved fast, his arm locked around my chest and forced me back down.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he grunted, shoving me into the seat.
“Let her go!” I shouted. “What are you going to do to her, Gadriel?”
I hated the way my voice broke. Hated how it sounded like pleading. But desperation drags you to places you never thought you’d go.
“Regis, take her away. Bring her to the square.”
“The square?” I echoed. “What does that mean?”
Sir Regis stepped forward and pulled the burlap sack over my mother’s head again. I caught one last look at her, confusion flickering across her face, and then she was gone, dragged fromthe room.
“Mother! Wait!”
The flare of desperation that had fueled me started to fade. I kept thrashing, but my strength was slipping. Gadriel reached into his pocket and pulled out another tassel. It gleamed black, the tiny iron rings clinking together. A pendant hung in the center, and my heart dropped.
“No,” I hissed, panic rising. “Get that away from me!”
“You’ll—”
Before he could continue, I threw my head back, hard. It cracked against his lip. He recoiled with a curse, and in the next second, my chair spun violently until I was facing him again. Blood beaded on his mouth and his eyes blazed.
“Enough!” he roared.
He drove his arm under my neck, pinning me by the collarbone while he worked the second tassel onto the chain at my waist. There was a clink as it locked into place. The moment it touched me, I felt my strength sputter, then vanish. I went slack.
Gadriel stepped back, breathing hard. He pulled another object from his pocket, something thin and sharp, like a metal pick, and used it to adjust the tassel. Another small click. He gave it a quick tug, checking the link, then finally let go.
“You will obey, Odessa.” Gadriel’s breaths were ragged. “I tried restraint. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, even when I knew better. A mistake, clearly. Your defiance has left me no choice. You’ve chosen rebellion over reason. If you will not learn through guidance, you will learn through force. And when you suffer the consequences, remember that it was your actions that forced my hand. This is your doing.”
The weight of the two pendants at my hip was crushing. I could barely breathe, barely keep my vision steady.
Gadriel stepped forward with a length of silk and pulled me back into the chair, straightening my torso. He wound the silk around my chest and the backrest, securing it tight to hold me upright. I sat there, trapped and restrained, as he pulled the fabric tighter. Out of the cornerof my eye, I caught his face. There was nothing in it but insanity. His eyes gleamed with a kind of mad ambition. Gadriel was gone; whatever piece of him I’d once known had long since slipped away.
Once the silk was fastened to his liking, he stepped behind me and gripped the chair. It tipped as he dragged me across the room, groaning against the floor with a dull, grating sound, until he spun it sharply to face the window. He reached for the curtain and yanked it back with a violent pull, fastening it open. Sunlight poured in. I squinted hard as the brightness pierced through my headache, but I forced myself to look.
From here, I could see the castle grounds. A massive crowd stretched beyond the courtyard. Thousands of cityfolk were packed shoulder to shoulder, facing a raised platform beneath the tower. Knights stood in tight formation. Archers were stationed high on the battlements. I didn’t understand what I was seeing, not fully. My thoughts couldn’t hold shape. The pressure of the pendants dragged at me, Gadriel’s voice echoed in my head, and the image of my mother and Mag being pulled away in chains hadn’t stopped replaying.
Everything blurred. Everything hurt.
Gadriel reached for the window casement, loosened the latch, and swung it open. The iron brace clicked into place with a sharp snap. With the window ajar, the sounds from outside began to seep in. The low, restless murmur of the crowd. The hum of thousands waiting.
“It’s time,” Gadriel said calmly. “I want you to see what comes next, Odessa.”
