Chapter Nine
The Silent Hour
The fifth lock closed with a sound like a verdict.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Willow stood in the center of her room and listened to the guard’s footsteps descend the winding staircase outside.
Heavy.
Measured.
Unhurried.
They faded one level at a time until the eastern tower swallowed them entirely.
Only then did she breathe.
The air escaped her in a broken rush, taking the last of the evening’s control with it. Her shoulders dropped. Her knees weakened. For one dangerous moment, the black silk gown seemed to tighten around her ribs until she could no longer draw air.
Victor’s hand remained on her even though he was several floors below.
She felt it against her shoulder.
Around her jaw.
Brushing the moonstone while he studied her as though
