ina

age door. A gust of cold, damp air hit me, car

walls were built of dark, almost black stone, chok

ds in black armor stood before them, their faces

er the King's scroll. One of the manor guards

e, his gaze sharp

gates swung inward, like the maw of some

e with Zoe, my feet landing on

ait. It turned and fled as

d from the gateway. He was broad-shouldered and in his thirties, wi

is tone was flat. "I am Rhys Stone

even 'miss.' Just my name. His

ght. I followed him, taking

dens were overgrown with weeds, a grand fountain long s

y wooden doors of the mai

e massive hearth was dark and empty, ma

y drawn to the figure i

us, facing a tall, arched window. Outside, the sky was a

n sitting, I could see the powerful build he must have once poss

profound loneliness and despair, l

way. "My Lord," he said re

chair tur

aw the face of

as bone, without a trace of color. His deep grey eyes were like two pools of st

han I'd imagined

empty, as if I were just a

mmand, and my own desperate situation. There was

poke clearly. "Hello, Lord Hart

important line. "I am not here vol

ss Hartwell's face. A tiny, almost impercepti

the 'bride' forced upon him

one of pure shock, his eyes dart

long time, so long I thoug

a dry, rasping sound, like a mach

S