The cold morning light bled through the narrow window of the interrogation room. Shadows stretched long over the bloodstained floor. Chains clinked with every weak breath Blake drew.
He was tied to the same chair as yesterday—barely conscious, head slumped, skin bruised and split. The door creaked open. Boots clicked against the stone. Rollo, robed in a black ceremonial coat lined with gold. Judith, walking behind him in a veiled silver gown. Darius, smirking coldly as always. And trailing them, in slow, deliberate steps—
Duke Ardan.
Blake's blurry vision sharpened as they entered, and his blood boiled at the sight. Rollo stepped forward, hands behind his back, voice crisp.
"The executioner has been summoned. The platform is being prepared."
Blake didn't move. He just stared up with hollow fire in his eyes.
"You'll be paraded before the people by noon. Hung by dusk. The kingdom will remember you as nothing but a failed traitor," Rollo said.
Darius scoffed, stepping beside him. "Look at you. Broken. Forgotten. Did you really think you'd win? That you'd matter?"
He chuckled.
"You were never one of us. You were always just... the mistake that wouldn't die."
Blake said nothing. He couldn't. His head drooped again.
Then, unexpectedly, Judith stepped forward. "May I speak to him?"
Rollo looked at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Alone," she added softly.
There was a pause. Then Rollo gave a slight nod and waved his hand.
"I'll indulge your sentiment. Make it brief."
He exited with Duke Ardan and Darius following, though Darius made a mocking kiss at Blake as he left. The door closed. Only Judith and Blake remained.
Silence.
Then Judith stepped forward slowly.
"I don't have much time," she whispered. "So listen carefully."
Blake lifted his head. Barely.
She knelt beside him, voice low, her words flowing like a broken confession.
"After you left… everything changed."
Her hands trembled.
"Gisla—Rollo's former wife—was accused of adultery. They locked her away in the west tower for months. No trial. No hearing. Just isolation."
Blake's eyes widened slightly.
"One night… she escaped. No one knows how. She vanished. Hasn't been seen since."
Judith's voice broke.
"Rollo started drinking. Lost control. He would scream at the walls, curse her name. Then one night…"
She turned her face away.
"He came to my chambers. Drunk. I tried to run. He pinned me down. I couldn't stop him."
Blake's breath hitched. His knuckles turned white in the chains.
"And that's how Darius… was born."
She continued, eyes distant now.
"He came into this world glowing—literally. His body shimmered with some strange light. Rollo believed it was destiny. That this boy was his true heir."
Judith looked up at Blake now, her eyes shimmering with grief.
"He married me. Not for love. For power. For legacy. I became the new 'Mother of the House.' But I never stopped thinking about you."
Blake's lips trembled, voice hoarse. "You... didn't have to stay."
"I couldn't leave. Not without you. I waited. Hoped. That one day you'd return."
Tears traced her cheeks. She reached out and gently touched Blake's hand.
"I'm so sorry. For everything."
Blake, despite the pain, met her gaze.
"You don't need to be sorry," he said softly. "You survived. You lived through hell, and you're still standing."
She choked a sob.
Blake looked at her firmly now, something resolute in his broken expression.
"It's not over. I don't know how, but this won't be my end. And I promise you... one day, this place will burn for what it did to us."
Judith nodded slowly. Then she wrapped her arms around him, careful not to worsen his wounds.
"I missed you so much," she whispered. "You were the only light in that house, Blake."
He closed his eyes. For a moment, the pain faded. Then, the door burst open.
Rollo returned. And beside him, the tall, armored figure of Duke Ardan stepped in, eyes cold and calculating.
Judith quickly pulled away, recomposing herself. Rollo's gaze narrowed, but he said nothing. Only smiled.
"Time's almost up," he said.
Blake didn't flinch. Not anymore.
Rollo stood silently, arms folded behind his back, while Duke Ardan glanced impassively between Judith and Blake. The execution was set. Nothing else could delay it now.
Then—
The door slammed open. A guard burst in, breathless, armor clinking.
"My lords!" he gasped. "The prisoner—the Deviant girl—Mirai—she's gone."
The words were ice in the room.
Rollo turned slowly. "What did you just say?"
"She's disappeared from the state prison. The entire wing was searched—there's no trace of her. The guards said she was removed under Lord Caelum's orders,"
"Caelum?" Rollo barked.
The guard flinched. "Yes, my lord. He claimed to be acting on your behalf. We… believed him."
Rollo's face turned red with rage.
Duke Ardan straightened, anger brewing behind his calm exterior. "That girl was the key to the transaction."
"Find her," Rollo snapped. "Scour the city. Search every forest, every ruin. Do not rest until she is found."
"Yes, my lord!" the guard stammered before dashing out.
For a moment, silence. Then—Laughter.
Low at first. Then rising.....Blake. Chained. Bloodied. Nearly dead. Yet laughing.
A broken, manic laugh that echoed off the stone like the cry of a ghost refusing to fade. He looked straight at Rollo, eyes burning bright.
"You can't hold a shadow, old man."
His voice was raw, but sharp.
"She slipped through your fingers the same way I did."
Rollo's fist flew before anyone could stop him.
CRACK.
It connected hard with Blake's face, snapping his head to the side. Blood hit the floor. Judith gasped. Ardan didn't react. Blake slumped, coughing, smiling through cracked lips. Rollo stood above him, trembling. But the boy still breathed. Still smiled. Still defied him.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
The air was calm. The world outside, forgotten.
Inside the stone-walled room, Mirai lay asleep on a soft cot. Her skin had regained some color. Her breathing, though shallow, was steady.
Lora sat beside her, hands folded, eyes tired from hours of worry.
The wooden door creaked open.
Selene entered, carrying a bowl of sliced fruit. Her dragon-orange eyes flicked between them.
"Brought something to eat," she said softly.
Lora gave her a faint smile but didn't reach for it.
Selene placed the bowl down beside the bed and sat on the other side.
"I already used Divine Touch," Lora said quietly. "Her injuries are gone. There's no physical reason she's still unconscious."
"She will wake," Selene said, though her voice trembled. "She has to."
Lora looked at her.
Selene was staring at Mirai with worry behind her fire-lit eyes.
"We haven't heard from Blake," Selene whispered. "What if they—what if they already—?"
Her voice broke.
She turned away, blinking back tears.
"He's strong," Lora said gently. "He's survived worse. He always finds a way."
Selene didn't speak.
She just reached out and gently brushed a lock of white hair from Mirai's brow.
"I just want all of us to be together again."
Lora placed a hand on Selene's shoulder.
"We will."
They all sat in silence, broken only by the slow rise and fall of Mirai's breath.