But it had felt real. She’d thought that was it. No sentence. Just a stake and flames and death. And it was all entertainment to him. A performance for his own amusement.
The worst part? She’d begged. Gods, she’d begged him.
Humiliation burned through her. Kara held her bound hands to her mouth, as if she could shove the words back inside, erase it. But it was too late. He’d heard it. He would always have it. She hated that she wasgrateful. Grateful he’d doused the flames, that they hadn’t gone higher. The tears took her at once. Sobs tore ruthlessly through her body until she collapsed on the floor, exhausted. But her mind didn’t let her rest. Cruel thoughts took root. Maybe Sebastian was already dead. Maybe she’d never see him again. Even if he escaped... maybe he’d cut his losses and leave her here to rot. But then she remembered his face when they’d dragged her away. That promise of fury. That vow without words.
He would come. He had to.
Sebastian. I need you.
Please. Help me.
She had to believe it. It was all she had left.
Two different Thorne guards came for her in the morning – older, quiet, neither one leering nor smug. One offered her a hand to stand. The other kept a respectful distance, watching her with sympathy.
“Come on,” the first one said gently. “It won’t take long.”
Kara didn’t speak. She just nodded stiffly and rose to her feet. Her wrists ached beneath the ever-present nightshade cuffs. Her body protested with every step. As they walked the corridor towards the hall, the guards spoke low – but not low enough.
“Vault upstairs still under guard?” one asked.
“Aye. Council’s keeping them locked until Fatàn arrive to take them back to the borderlands.”
“Bet they’re pissed. All that effort to get the Shards back, and now we’re just sitting on them?”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if Fatàn are stalling on purpose,” the first muttered. “Waiting to see what happens to the girl. And to him.”
He’s alive. Sebastian is alive.
Kara kept her head down, but the words rang in her ears. The Shards. Here. Upstairs. Locked in the vault.
So close.
Sebastian’s voice sounded in the back of her mind – unwavering and infuriating and brave.
Don’t give up.
He would never let this be the end. She wouldn’t either.
“He had his trial?”
Kara looked up at that, listening hard. They didn’t notice.
“No word from Thorne yet... it won’t be easy for Lord Tobias though. Traitor or not, it’s his son.”
If he’s still in Thorne... he’s too far.
The guards fell quiet as they reached the doors, opened them for her. The chamber was even fuller than before. The gallery above was packed, rows of faces craning forward, alert and eager. The High Council sat below the judge, six cloaked figures in silence. Her father amongst them. She didn’t look at him.
The guards guided her forward. She moved like she wasn’t fully there – expression distant, steps uneven. When they reached the plinth, her legs nearly gave. One guard steadied her with a gentle hand.
She flinched at the touch.
“Easy,” he said.
She forced herself upright, gripping the wood. Her hands were still shaking.
Please have got away, Sebastian.
