CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Lucian

The stone staircase descends into darkness, and each footfall echoes through the cold corridors like a death knell. My boots click against wet rock as I make my way deeper into the palace dungeons, the air growing thicker with each step. Then, the smell hits me—dampness, rot, desperation. It clings to everything down here.

But none of that matters. Not the stench, not the shadows, not the way the torchlight flickers against the walls like dying hope. All that matters is getting answers.

I find them in the third cell from the end, exactly where the guards told me they’d be. Two figures are huddled in the...