Chapter Twenty-One
Chloe’s pov
The court doors groaned shut like the whole room was holding its breath along with me.
Nash sat at the head of the hall, dressed indark, unadorned clothes. Wylie stood at his right, a folded parchment in her hand, and the guards flanking the doors kept their eyes forward, the whole room strung tight enough that even the elders lining the walls had stopped whispering among themselves.
Sunlight cut through the tall windows in hard, bright bars, catching the dust that hung in the air like the whole hall had been holding its breath since dawn.
The guards dragged Garric out first, he was dragged forward in chains that scraped against the stone floor, his scarred face giving nothing away, two days removed from the worst of him and no less unsettling for it.
