Their grips were tight, fingers digging into her arms like iron shackles. No matter how Mirelle twisted or struggled, there was no breaking free. Still, she fought them, even as they dragged her back toward the gates. A small crowd had already gathered there, more guards and at the very center of it all stood Nieah, her face set in a rigid mask of barely contained fury.
Ragnar rode ahead of them. He had not spoken a single word since condemning Mirelle to the dungeons. His silence now was like a dark omen of the fate that awaited her.
When they reached the gates, Nieah was the first to step forward. She stopped less than an arm's length away from Mirelle, her anger palpable in the tight set of her jaw and the fire burning in her eyes.
"Are you aware of what you have done, the trouble you have caused?" Nieah demanded, her voice sharp.
