They carry him away, murmuring their gratitude to my wife.
Mayah surveys the hall. Every eye is riveted to her. Some of the nobility gaze at her with curiosity, others with open disdain. The air crackles around me as rage builds in my chest.
When Mayah meets my gaze, she looks nervous. Uncertain. Anger and disgust thunder through my veins—she’s saved a life and is being judged for it.
“Take my wife to our chambers,” I say to her guards, though my gaze never leaves her. “And make sure she eats.”
Ten guards form a circle around her and lead her from the hall.
I grit my teeth. The dungeon is not where I expected to spend my wedding night.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thecrackofboneisn’t as loud as I’d hoped.
His screams echo off the damp walls. Sharp, heaving pants, knuckles blanched white as he grips the sides of the rickety chair, writhing against the coils of rope binding his chest.
“Who sent you?” I ask again, my voice a deathly whisper.
Silence.
My fingers clamp around his bruised jaw, wrenching his head up. Flickering torchlight glints off his limp blond hair. One eye is swollen shut, the other still cracked open. I didn’t hit him hard enough, it seems.
“Vaimayr, was it?” My fingers dig into the oozing gash on his cheek. “Tell me who sent you.”
The silken threat in the words convinces him.
Or perhaps it’s his broken ribs. Or ankle. Or the dagger I’ve left embedded in his thigh.
“No one,” he rasps through bloodied lips.
Truth.
“Who helped you plan the attack?”
Silence. Then—a painedoompfas my fist connects with his unprotected abdomen.
“I don’t like repeating myself, Vaimayr. Tell me who helped you plan the attack.” Hot fury coils around my chest, ready to strike. He tried to kill my Mayah.
“N-no one.”
Sharp pinpricks jab the back of my neck.
The fury coils tighter. My boot connects with the seat of his chair, sending him tumbling backwards.
Vaimayr, to his credit, swallows his cry of pain as his head connects with the stone floor.
So I aim a sharp kick at the ribs I know to be broken.
He cries out, and grim satisfaction flickers at the fresh tears leaking from his swollen eyes.
“My—my friend. He loved my brother.”
Truth.
“Is anyone else planning to harm my wife?”
“No!” Truth. The heel of my boot rests on his neck. “No, I swear it by the Skies!”
