settled in my bones. Every movement was a fresh torment. I lay on a rough cot, wrapped in coarse bandages

the night sky with fleeting bursts of color. Distant music, loud and joyous

ached from the agony of my body, the fresh wounds

p white shirt, a silk tie. The perfect groom. The sight was a fresh stab to my already shattered heart

vely reached out to him, a desperate, sile

is sleeve. "Careful, Arlie," he muttered, his voice tight. "

dhood endearments he used to whisper. I understood. I was a risk

Kassandra. For her father. It was the only way to avoid worse. To protect you, even if you don't understand." His voice was strained

e was no point in arguing, no point in fighting. The old Bowen, th

d. When he would fiercely defend my character, my worth, to anyone who dared question it. "She's got a heart of gold," he'd roar

wasn't cold. It was the insidious coldness of betrayal, the bone-deep chill of utter despair. I hugged myse

"What's wrong, Arlie?" he asked, his voice laced

l table beside my cot. "Eat," he commanded,

imperious, echoed from outside. "Bowen

and the door. The choice was clear. The p

someone to check on you later," he mumbled, al

chanical, devoid of hunger or taste. The bland liquid sli

ted the room. Acrid. Smo

range glow. A flicker. Then a plume

ment. My room. My entire wo

everything I owned into ash. Heat pressed in on me, suffocating me. I scrambled from the cot, my ba

was hot, searing hot. I pulled back, yelping silently, then tried

or, my fists raw against the burning wood, my thr

beyond the door. Laughter.

and cold, cut through the crackling of the flames.

familiar. "Are you sur

off. "He wanted her out of the way before the engag

in. Not Kassandra's men. Him. He condemned me to thi

ugh the last vestiges of my hope, my love. My stomach clenched,

the flames dancing mockingly around me. My hand instinctively flew to

I had left. A piercing, desperate shriek tore through the smoke, a mournf

d in his, when a faint, high-pitched sound reached him. A whistle. He froze, his hand dr

n't tell me you're still thinking about that... that incident." Her voice was swe

fixed on the distant glow. "I... I need t

on't be ridiculous. It's probably just the wind. Come now, yo

, ominous glow. He saw the faint silhouette of smoke, but Kassandra's voice, her touch, pulled him back. He sighed, a profoun

hispering urgently. "Sir... the old dock apartment... a fire. The

red. His blood ran cold. The