Sharon looked around their space. The apartment wasn’t great. It was what a typical citizen of Violencia would live in, as if even here they were being punished. The furnishings were slim, the table they sat at wobbled, and the carpet was stained with the unwelcome addition of a slightly bitter smell.
When Griffin flicked his eyes up, he noted a camera as well.
They’re being watched, just like the others.
“He’s out with our boy, Jayce.”
The news wasn’t shocking, Griffin already knew as much as he could about Harold and Sharon. Harold had been anadvisor for the King of Luscinia until he made the mistake of speaking too highly of Violencia.
He should have known better.
“Ah, I see.” Griffin’s eyes flicked back up to the camera. “I suppose I will be going then.”
Sharon’s hand lashed out, her grip tight on his forearm. “Come with me, I need to show you something.”
Griffin’s goal in coming here had been to gather as much information as he could about this Facility, to see if Sharon and Harold would be useful allies.
He had already decided they wouldn’t, but he would hear her out. He could pretend if needed and turn on them once the time was right.
Sharon got up, beckoning him to follow. He was wary, but did so nonetheless. He didn’t expect to go towards their bedroom.
“Sharon, I—”
“The Nightingale is making an announcement.”
He didn’t hesitate, his eyes flicking around the space.
He was startled to see there was someone in their bed. Anger welled inside him at the sight, at the confirmation that these people would never be his allies.
“Ignore them, they’reasleep.” She opened the closet door, tugging him in and slamming it shut. The space was just big enough for each to stand and allow a single foot between them.
“There aren’t ears in here,” she explained. “Harold and I keep in touch with others back in Luscinia.” Sharon turned behind her, digging in the closet under a pair of shoes. She pulled out a small metal tablet. “They sent us this video.”
She thrust the device into Griffin’s hands. A video was already pulled up and he pressed play.
The King of Luscinia was standing side-by-side withDrago.
Cool iron sank into his gut, painful, heavy, and sharp.
“The last king of Grypheem did not believe in second chances!” the King of Luscinia announced.
Drago was frowning, but he didn’t argue. The crown he wore was crooked on his head.
Oversized.
Griffin hadn’t been able to speak to his brother again since he learned the news of his father’s death, but it was clear his brother was much worse for wear.
Another spark of grief threatened to take hold, but Griffin held it at bay, listening as this played out. He knew whatever the King said, it wouldn’t be good.
“But we do believe in second chances!” the King announced. “We have a history of righting our wrongs, and what better method than to give prisoners the option to redeem themselves?”
The video was blurry, but even still Griffin could tell his brother didn’t like this. That it was not a decision he made. That whatever was happening was a charade.
“And so! Every year, we will host an annual Redemption! Prisoners of the Sacred Trinity will have the choice to be sent off to fight for their freedom! And not only that, but the winner will be allotted the gift of a Sacred Cherished encounter.”
What the fuck?
The High Priestess, Avana, stepped into the camera’s view. She waved her hands up, her ethereal appearance setting ablaze Griffin’s rage.
