Anabel.
The heavy oak door the chambers shut with a soft, final click, cutting off the cold drafts and distant whispers of the main hall. Maria had gently squeezed my shoulder, left a mug of warm herbal tea on the small wooden side table, and retreated, leaving me in total solitude.
I slumped onto the edge of the mattress, my hands clutching my knees as my whole body trembled uncontrollably.
The silence in the room was deafening, but inside my own head, everything was screaming. The terrifying image of Davian's broadsword frozen inches above Vincent's neck played over and over behind my eyelids. I could still see the utter devastation on Aidan's face, the soul-crushing defeat in Davian's grey eyes, and the quiet, terrible satisfaction smirking on Vincent's bloody lips.
I buried my face in my palms, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes until bright, painful spots burst across the darkness. A fresh wave of tears scalding my cheeks, soaking through my sleeves.
