Chapter 12

The cell has no windows, but I know when he is coming. The air changes first—goes thin and sharp, like it’s bracing. Footsteps echo down the stone corridor beyond the door, unhurried, flanked by the dull clink of armor. My wrists ache against the silk cords binding them to the chair. My back throbs where the last blow landed. The torches hiss, smoke curling up to vanish into darkness. The lock grinds. I force myself not to flinch. Kian steps inside without his crown, in dark embroidered...