Back in the deep, oppressive silence of the throne room, I sat perfectly still. The Tainted Grail sat on the pedestal, the blood within dark and stagnant. I felt the ripple of Kaelen's terror all the way from the Capital. It was a delicious, shivering sensation that resonated through the Wife-Stealing Rod.
"The King is a monster, Silas," I said, my voice sounding hollow in the vast chamber. "I can feel the echo of his power through Kaelen's fear. It's... suffocating."
Silas shifted in the corner, his red eyes the only light in the gloom. "He is Level 19, Master. He is the peak of this world's hierarchy. To him, you are a parasite in a wound. But as long as the Commander keeps that wound closed, the King will not bother to pick at the scab."
"But I'm a prisoner here," I snapped, my grip tightening on the Rod. "I have this power, this dungeon, and yet I am hiding in the dirt. I have to stay here, hoping the High Priestess plays her part well in the Cathedral. If she breaks... if she admits what happened... Valerius will turn this forest into a glass crater."
I reached out and touched the cold glass of the Grail. I sent a single, sharp pulse of mana through the link—a blind signal of dominance into the void.
"Remember me, Elara," I whispered to the dark. "Because your silence is the only thing keeping us both alive. And keep your 'hero' husband in line. If he falters before his King, I'll make sure your descent into the dark is the last thing he ever sees."