They were surrounded.
All the high-ranking nobles.
Soldiers.
Every exit sealed off like a noose tightening.
Sylas gritted his teeth—hard enough to crack them.
"So… is this how you want to do this?"
The words slipped through his teeth—low, sharp, and heavy.
Sylas—his sword in hand.
At that moment, King Kael realized something was wrong.
Ana wasn't with them.
"Where is my daughter?" he asked, his voice sharp.
Sylas looked around—but he couldn't see her.
His grip on the sword tightened.
Hard.
He was distracted.
And he had put her in danger.
His eyes darted, trying to scan the area as fast as he could.
Then a voice came through.
It was the prince.
"We don't need you anymore. I got what I wanted."
He was holding Ana.
Her face was filled with fear—
Like what Sylas said about her becoming a hostage had come true.
"I'm sorry," she muttered.
Her voice barely made a sound—like it was filled with guilt.
Tears slipped down her face—slow, silent, relentless.
