Isolde.
The floor of the courtroom was covered with blood, the liquid thick and red. The chairs had sprinkles of it, but hanging from the high ceiling of the room with a long chain were seven dead bodies, seven dead males. Some had their faces battered beyond recognition, while others had their skin torn into pieces. The remaining ones had their bellies slashed open, their bowels spilling out.
From the faces of those she could see, Isolde remembered those males. They were the same males she saw the lord addressing on the castle ground the day before.
He killed them.
Her stomach roiled with disgust, and without meaning to, Isolde doubled over and began to puke. She felt the lord inch to her side and grasp her hair, pulling it away from her face.
“There you go, little bird. Let it all o
