Darkness moved, slithering down to my core, peeling the restraints back, scale by scale.
No.Callum’s voice ripped through me.
I sent him a mental picture of me flicking him off.
It felt wrong, dishonorable, to kneel before this false king. Fury coiled tighter, hungry, ready—
Without thinking, my attention was pulled to him again, the cloaked man. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes, didn’t know if his features were symmetrical or flawed. But he held my gaze, like he knew exactly what my body wished to do. He gave one slow, deliberate blink.
Of approval, maybe. Or warning.
Obrann’s boots stomped across the wood as he barged past his guards, taking his place before Callum.
Callum bowed, shifting aside.Kneel,his voice snapped again.Before he fucking kills you.
My teeth ground together, but I forced myself down, bringing one knee to the dirt, one bow to sin.
And then the fog rolled in.
“Rise.” Obrann’s voice cracked across the crowd like a whip.
So forceful, so unnaturally loud, I wondered if someone hidden in the crowd was echoing it for him.
His eyes surveyed us as he shoved his cloak back, nearly flinging it into who approached next. Prince Perseus flanked him, cruelty hewn into every angle. A mirror of his father, but younger, shinier.
And somehow, worse.
Perseus sneered when Obrann seized his wrist, wincing when the grip tightened. I let my vision shift, just enough to peel back the veil, to see if the rumors were true. That Obrann held no strength of his own, only stole it from others.
Red and yellow waves were ripped from Perseus’s body, siphoned into Obrann’s palm as father and son raised their hands together, a ridicule of unison.
The crowd reluctantly cheered as the curse stripped away the façade and I saw it all, the coward beneath the crown.
A hiss worked its way up my throat as warmth brushed my shins, a haze that didn’t belong.
Obrann dropped Perseus’s wrist, the latter subtly rubbing the mark left behind. “My wonderful kinfolk of Csolenia, thank you for joining me this morning.” Obrann’s voice oozed across the square, slippery-smooth, wrapping itself around every ear.
His glare cut to Perseus, who still stood too close. The prince managed to feign a smile, bowing before stepping back.
“Though it pains me to summon you under such tragic circumstances, let us remember, the Gods are grateful for our sacrifice.”
Callum’s fingers drummed once, twice, against the helmet at his side. A code. A signal.
Movement was everywhere, a hundred faces, a hundred eyes and not even one belonged to those I trusted most. They were here. I knew they were here. But their absence left me unsettled.
“As you know,” Obrann continued, “it is treason to defy your king. It is an even graver dishonor,” a pause, “to rebel. This morning,” he spread his arms, as if offering benediction, “I bring forth a traitor.”
My stomach dropped, sinking through the cobblestones as the guard shoved a shackled figure forward, a sack smothering their head, rags hanging from their frame.
Step by step, the limp in their gait revealed itself.
For a moment, air lodged itself sharp behind my teeth. Disbelief wasn’t the right word for this. He would riskRook?
“As by law, the penalty for rebelling against the crown—is death. I invite everyone to pray for the soul who found himself lost.” Obrann bowed his head, hands folding in imitated devotion.
I bowed mine too, just long enough to murmur a plea that the gods smite him where he stood.
Nothing. Sacrifice doesnotplease them.
