{Elias's POV continuation, first person.}
The stench of the dungeon hit me the moment the iron doors opened.
Moisture dripped from the stone ceiling. Torches crackled along the walls, casting flickering shadows across the narrow corridors. Normally the prisoners housed beneath the palace were murderers, traitors, smugglers, and nobles foolish enough to mistake royal patience for weakness.
Today was different.
As I descended the stone stairs with Cassian beside me, I found myself looking upon bakers, merchants, craftsmen, laborers, and ordinary citizens.
People who should have been loyal to the Crown, people who should have respected their future Queen, instead all I felt when I looked at them was disgust.
The moment they noticed me approaching, panic erupted throughout the cells.
"Your Highness!"
"Please!"
"We have done nothing wrong!"
