The air in Alaric's private chambers was deathly still, a stark contrast to the distant, muffled screams rising from the village below.
Lucian and Zephyrus stood by the oak doors while Alaric led Lenora toward the back of the room, where a section of the stone floor had already slid away to reveal the entrance to the secret room.
The runes carved into the threshold glowed with a faint light, a protective barrier that remained untouched by the black oil currently rotting the rest of the palace foundations.
It was a space designed for total isolation, a place where the world could burn and the inhabitant would never feel the heat, but to Lenora, it looked like a gilded cage she wasn't ready to enter.
"I am not staying down there while you three face whatever that is," Lenora said, her voice thin and trembling as she clutched at Alaric's arm.
Her eyes were still tinged with a fading violet light, her body heavy with the child's restless energy.
