LUCIAN POINT OF VIEW

The corridor to the council hall felt longer than it ever had before.

Torchlight stretched along the stone walls in uneven waves, flames bending whenever cold drafts slipped through unseen cracks in the fortress. Shadows crawled across the floor as I walked, rising and shrinking with every step I took. The rhythmic echo of my boots followed me like a second heartbeat, slow, controlled, deliberate.

Too controlled.

Because beneath that measured pace, anger coiled tighter ...