Alistair tilted his head back, his laughter climbing higher, manic and grotesque. He clapped once, mockingly, as though applauding a performance. "Look at him squirm! Look how the proud tutor begs!" His grin split wide, feverish delight carved into his face. "Ah, what sweet music. Don't you see? He's mine to break. Mine!"
The guards, trembling, could barely keep their hold. Their eyes darted between Lucian's pale, contorted face and their prince's unhinged glee. Sweat dripped down their temples. One of them swallowed hard, whispering, "Please, Your Highness… he won't last another breath—"
"Silence!" Alistair snapped, his voice cracking with deranged fury. "Close your mouths and do not ruin my entertainment."
Lucian's limbs thrashed once more, weaker now. His lips were blue, blood smeared down his chin, his chest barely rising. Death hovered close, a cold hand pressing down upon him.
And then—
The heavy doors to the chamber swung open with a thunderous crash.
