Each step weighed on my chest as I descended the castle's stairs to the dungeons. Guards bowed, "Your grace," they all muttered. They way down was similar to me walking to the executioner's chopping block.
The only source of light in the deepest parts of the dungeon came from the barred window adjacent to the cell. It was night time, the crickets making noise as the stars in the sky illuminated the paths.
From here, the Orion's belt was visible even without a telescope. My weight shifted from one foot to another as I shuffled closer to the cell.
My voice was low, dark, and grim all at once, as the lump went down harshly from my throat to my belly, hands coated with sweat, "Lucas."
At first, no one answered. Only the sound of the crickets filtered into my ears. Was he still there? Did he die? Goddess, no.
