“Come. Sit,” Lord Jergens remarked gravely in his deep, soothing voice.
Emily sniffed and sat as requested, wiping her nose with her fingers.
“Don’t do that,” Lord Jergens commented gently, handing her a box of tissues.
She grabbed a handful and wiped her nose properly.
“That boy has been handed down a five-year sentence and has been taken to the Vault. Do you know what that means?” Lord Quentin Jergens rumbled, his blue eyes on his daughter.
Emily blanched. Her hands trembled as her stomach twisted into a thousand knots.
She had known Tyler had been sentenced, but had not known it was to the Vault. The maximum security prison of Ashrone, for the worst criminals in the kingdom.
“He won’t survive there,” she gasped, her eyes widening.
“Of course, he won’t. Do you know what that mean
