Page 156 of Fallen Nocturne

“I think you need help remembering your manners,” he says.

He pulls her against him and forces her into the first steps of a dance, moving her like a doll made for his amusement.

“Let her go!” I grip the wooden bars until the thorns pierce my palms and blood runs over my fingers.

Ruthven laughs and spins her too sharply. Rhianelle stumbles, pain flashing across her face as her injured foot catches beneath her.

“Oh, come now,” Ruthven murmurs, tightening his grip before she can fall. “A queen should know every step of the dance.”

Shade lunges against the branches holding him. “Take your hands off her, or I’ll carve them from your wrists.”

Beside him, Lucien snarls and throws his weight against the wooden chains, snapping his teeth toward Ruthven as if he could tear through the cage by sheer rage alone.

Svenn watches from beside Lilith and does nothing. He watches Ruthven drag Rhianelle across the floor as though she means nothing to him.

Thormein sends chains of living wood through the cage. They bind my wrists and pin Shade, Rainer, and Lucien against the bars. He does not bother restraining Landon. The Herald is barely conscious.

Lilith lowers herself into Svenn’s lap. She winds one arm around his shoulders and leans against his chest, the gesture clearly meant for Rhianelle to see.

Rhianelle still refuses to look at them.

Ruthven notices that too. His grip on Rhianelle tightens every time Lilith leans closer to Svenn. Her refusal to acknowledge him only sharpens his fury.

“You are not following the rhythm,” he tells Rhianelle.

“I have never cared for dancing,” she mutters.

Ruthven smiles without humor. “Perhaps you need better shoes.”

He releases her long enough to cross to a black casket near the throne. When he opens it, rows of instruments gleam inside. He removes a pair of metal shoes with long tongs and lowers them into the green flames burning beneath the table.

The metal begins to glow.

“These should improve your steps,” he says. “You will dance beautifully once you are wearing them.”

Rhianelle’s face pales, but she does not step back.

I pull against the restraints until the wood cuts into my wrists. Across the chamber, Svenn remains silent while Ruthven lifts the heated shoes from the flames.

Shade twists against the branches pinning him, his summoning circles flaring and dying beneath the suppressing enchantments. Rainer tries to rise, but the poison leaves him too weak to do more than brace one hand against the floor. Lucien snarls and snaps at the chains around his body, tearing at the living wood until blood stains his teeth.

Even Landon struggles to move. He drags himself a few inches across the floor before his remaining arm gives way beneath him.

None of us can reach her.

Svenn suddenly speaks. “Let me be the one to put them on her.”

Everyone freezes.

“What?” Ruthven turns to look at him.

“Let me put the shoes on her.” Svenn walks forward. “You want to break her. Let me be the one to do it. Let me show her that she was always just a fool who trusted the wrong monster.”

“Arescaine,” Rhianelle whispers.

Lilith claps her hands together delightedly. “Yes! Oh, yes. Let him do it.”

Ruthven hesitates, clearly wanting to do it himself.