Gwen
Days blurred into one another after the attack. The culprits were eventually caught. They were ruthless bandits who had been terrorizing some regions and highways for months. Armed robberies, kidnappings, random shootings. Father made sure they paid dearly. I heard the guards whispering about how the men were beaten and tortured before being thrown into the deepest cells of the royal prison. Life imprisonment. No parole. No mercy.
The case was closed. Everyone else seemed to breathe easier.
But I couldn’t.
One evening, a few days later, we sat across from each other at the long dining table. The chandelier cast soft light over the silverware, but the silence between us felt heavier than usual. I pushed my food around my plate, lips pursed, shoulders slumped. I knew I was pouting.
