The chambers emptied slowly, like water draining from a vessel. The elders dispersed into their private halls, voices low, expressions grave. Guards lingered in the corridors, their watchful eyes a reminder that freedom, for now, was an illusion.
Olivia and Lucas were escorted to a holding wing within the council’s fortress—grand stone walls, arched ceilings, a place meant less for prisoners and more for those under scrutiny. Yet despite the velvet drapes and flickering lanterns, the air felt heavy, suffocating.
Lucas paced the length of the chamber, muscles taut beneath his tunic, every step measured, controlled. Olivia sat at the edge of the long oak bench, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles had gone pale.
“They looked at you as if you were already condemned,” she whispered.
L
