“Hey—what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”Isnarl, jerking against them.“Ihaven’t done a fucking thing!”
“Doesn’t matter what you did or didn’t do,” one of them growls, tightening his hold.“Youset off the alarm.”
My blood runs cold.
“What alarm?”Idemand, still fighting them, though the ringing is finally starting to fade from my ears.
The other guard leans in, his expression grim.
“Never you mind about that—now you’re going to see theKing.”
And beforeIcan do a damn thing to stop them, they drag me away.
68
ELOWEN
I find a quiet corner at the back of theKing’sCourt, tucked between a tall stone pillar and a faded tapestry depicting some long-forgotten battle.It’sdim here—the torchlight flickering against the gray walls, the noise of the crowd softened just enough thatIcan think.
TheCourtitself is vast—far larger thanIimagined.Theceiling arches high overhead, supported by massive stone columns carved with twisting dragons and ancient runes.Bannershang between them in deep reds and golds, each one embroidered with the royal crest.Lightspills in from high, narrow windows, catching on polished marble floors and the gleam of armor worn by the guards stationed along the walls.
I ignore all of it.
My heart is pounding.Thisis it—it’s time.
My fingers curl into my skirts asIclose my eyes, forcing myself to focus.Igo over the words again in my mind, careful not to stumble over them.Thespell has to be exact—every syllable, every cadence, every breath.
Thread of time, unwind the seam,
Carry me through memory’s dream,
Back before the fault was cast,
Let me mend the broken past.
I mouth the words silently, shaping them without a sound, feeling the rhythm of them settle into me.Myheart is pounding too fast and my thoughts feel tangled, butIpush through the confusion and inner turmoil.Ihave to do this.Ihave to be steady.
I just need a few more moments beforeIstart, though—a little more time to gather myself and begin.
I draw in a slow breath and open my eyes, ready to start…and then the bells begin.
The sound crashes through theCourtlike a storm breaking overhead—loud, sharp, and impossible to ignore.Itechoes off the high vaulted ceilings, reverberating through the stone so violently that it feels like the floor itself is trembling beneath my feet.
Every head turns toward the entrance and a ripple of confusion spreads through the crowd, voices rising in startled murmurs as people crane their necks to see what’s happening.Theline of supplicants that stretches from the throne all the way back toward the doors shifts uneasily, robes rustling and boots scraping against the polished stone floor.
I turn too, my heart jumping into my throat and thenIsee him—Theron!
My heart seems to stop in my chest asIwatch two guards drag him forward, one on either side, their mailed fists tight on his arms.He’sresisting—of course he is—but whatever happened at the entrance has shaken even him.Hismovements are sharp and frustrated, his expression dark with confusion and anger.
“Let go of me,Godsdamn it!”Ihear him growl.“Ididn’t do anything!”
But the guards don’t seem to listen.Theydrag him straight past the long line of people waiting their turn—past merchants clutching scrolls, past peasants in worn clothing, past richly dressed nobles who draw back in outrage at being bypassed.Afew protest loudly, but their voices are swallowed by the chaos as the guards haulTheronforward like he’s something dangerous…
Like he’s already been judged and found guilty.
My stomach drops.OhGoddess, what will they do to him?
My eyes follow to where they’re taking him—right to the front of the line of supplicants where theKing’sthrone is mounted on a marble dais.
