The name rang off the iron doors, spoken in a crown sentence and under seal: a house restored in the same breath that fed its destroyer to it.
"She can do it however she wants," the princess finished.
For the space of three heartbeats, the hall was perfectly quiet.
Then the count began to scream.
"HANG me!" He fought his knees under him at last, his ruined voice climbing through what was left of its range. "Do you hear me?! Take me to your father and HANG ME! I am a peer of the realm and I DEMAND MY ROPE!"
Nobody answered him.
"STORMLORD!" he shrieked. "You served the LAW, the law says the ROPE, you KNOW the law, MAKE THEM..."
Stormlord looked at him, said nothing at all, and stepped back to his princess's shoulder.
"HANG ME!" the count screamed at Felicity, at the Mediator, at the soldiers along the walls, at anyone, his voice shredding on the gaps in his teeth. "HANG ME! HANG ME! PLEASE!"
