NO… this couldn’t be happening.
How many hours had she been trapped in this suffocating chamber? Only the hiss and crackle of the torch lamps overhead broke the silence, their faint glow casting uneasy shadows across the walls. Klarine lifted her hand to her mouth, biting down on her thumb in a nervous, frustrated gesture that betrayed her inner turmoil. Her brows furrowed, her eyes remained downcast, lips pressed tightly together as if to hold back a flood of despair. She dared not meet the interrogator’s gaze — her eyes instead flickered toward the door, clinging to the desperate hope that Noxton might walk through at any moment to rescue her.
“Lady Klarine,” the interrogator’s voice cut through the stillness, steady and firm. “Would you describe where you were at the time of the late
