Chapter 102: The open country
The day for Ceremus and Atilla to depart had arrived, and Anemone could hardly contain his worry at the thought of the two venturing into the unknown, unaware of the dangers awaiting them.
And so, the advisor did something he hoped he wouldn't come to regret when all of this was over. He descended into the dungeons, where prisoners were kept, making his way to a specific section built to hold those with divine power or sorcery.
Anemone ignored the glares of hatred and contempt from the prisoners as he passed. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Your anger is, unfortunately, misplaced. I am not the one who put you in here, he thought to himself.
He walked past a group of pirates, captured and stowed away in the ship after their attack. They sat in weary silence, awaiting their trial.
Finally, he caught sight of a guard and gave him a nod. "Is she still here?" Meaning—is she still sane?
The guard nodded. "She's more resilient than she looks," he replied.
Anemone raised a brow. Few could survive a week in the royal dungeons—let alone nine.
He approached the heavily guarded cell and was met with a sea of midnight hair. The prisoner sat with her head bowed, her lips quirking up slightly at the corner as if sensing his presence.
"Has my time finally come?" she asked, her voice soft and mellow, yet carrying a sharp edge.
"Unfortunately not, Meliše. But I do have something I'd like to discuss with you," the advisor said.
"Oh? That king of yours still hasn't decided my fate?" she mused, raising her head. Her blue-green eyes met Anemone's with a cold, piercing intensity.