Adrian and Misery stood in one of the fortress’s narrow corridors, their conversation hushed but tense. The torches lining the walls flickered, throwing their shadows long and distorted.
“She has to die,” Adrian said finally, breaking the stalemate. His voice was low, each word measured. “As long as Seraphine lives, she’s dangerous. To Eryon. To us. To everyone.”
Misery crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her brow furrowing. “I know that. I know what she’s done. But it’s not easy, Adrian. She—” Her voice caught, and she looked away. “She’s part of the reason we’re here. She helped us once.”
“Helped us?” Adrian’s tone sharpened, and his crimson eyes gleamed in the dim light. “She helped us because it suited her. And when it didn’t, she nearly got us killed. You remember that.”
Misery sighed, rubbing her temple. Her other hand rested on her stomach, a gesture so subtle it might have gone unnoticed. “I do. I remember everything.” Her voice softened, heavy with resignation. “But this doesn’t feel right.”
Adrian stepped closer, his voice softening but no less firm. “It doesn’t have to feel right. It just has to be done.”
Misery hesitated, her hand lingering protectively over her swollen belly. Finally, she nodded, her shoulders sagging as though under a great weight. “I’ll do it,” she said, the words barely louder than a whisper. “For Eryon. For the baby.”
Adrian nodded once, but before they could say more, Misery gasped sharply. Her hand flew to her stomach, her face twisting in pain. Adrian moved quickly, steadying her as she doubled over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked urgently.
Her breaths came short and panicked. “Something’s… wrong. I—” Her words broke off as a wet sound followed, and she looked down in horror at the spreading pool around her feet. “No… not now.”
Adrian’s expression changed immediately. “You’re in labor,” he said, his voice taking on an edge of urgency. “We need to get you to the healer. Now.”
Guards appeared at the sound of their voices, and Adrian didn’t waste time issuing orders. “Get the physician. Tell them it’s an emergency.”
One guard ran off, while the others helped Adrian lift Misery carefully. She clung to him, her face pale and her breaths shallow. As they moved through the fortress, Adrian kept his focus on her, but his mind churned with everything left undone.
In another part of the fortress, Seraphine was dragged down a narrow hallway, her chains clinking loudly in the silence. When they reached the cell, the guards opened the heavy iron door and shoved her inside. She stumbled, landing hard on the cold stone floor.
The door slammed shut, the sound echoing. Seraphine sat still for a moment, her hands resting on the chains around her wrists. The King’s words played over and over in her mind.
“You’ll rot here until they kill you.”