The violence in the capital had only escalated further over the last few days. Entire properties had been destroyed, so burned completely to the ground by rebels who moved through the city like a rciless storm. Shops, hos, and marketplaces that once bustled with life had been reduced to blackened ruins and smoldering debris. Worse still, lives had been lost. So people had been unable to escape the collapsing wreckage before the flas consud everything around them.
Thick plus of dark smoke billowed endlessly into the sky, spreading across the capital in a dense inky shroud that blotted out the skies and left the air heavy with ash. The scent of burning wood lingered everywhere, clinging stubbornly to the streets.
Fear had settled over the people in the capital like a suffocating fog. Citizens hurried through the streets, never knowing where the next attack would erupt.
Many had gone to inspect the destruction firsthand, including Jayran.
Now, with the day barely past noon, he made his way toward the throne room. His expression remained unreadable to everyone he passed, but tension coiled tightly beneath his skin with every step he took.
The queen had called for a eting with the courtiers, no doubt intending to discuss the recent string of disasters plaguing the capital and the growing unrest spreading through the kingdom.
Even though his attendance was expected, Jayran had strongly contemplated not attending at all.
He abhorred the thought of standing in that throne room while his mother pretended to care about the suffering of the people. The re idea of watching her drape herself in false concern made his stomach churn with disgust. They both knew the truth. She was the one responsible for all of this to begin with.
He did not want to stand there listening to lies while the true architect of the chaos lounged comfortably upon her throne, wearing the face of a grieving queen.
She did not care that innocent people were suffering because of her actions. She did not care that families had lost their hos or that rchants had watched their livelihoods burn before their eyes. She did not care how many bodies were buried beneath the rubble so long as it brought her closer to achieving her goals. To her, the citizens of Lamora were expendable, worth less than the dirt beneath the soles of her shoes.
And with the help of the rebels, she intended to destroy the capital the sa way she had once destroyed the eastern region of the kingdom.
The thought alone made sothing dark twist violently inside him.
Before he reached the throne room, however, Elka suddenly fell into step beside him as she walked in the sa direction he was heading. The soft rustle of her gown was enough to draw his attention toward her for only a brief second before he looked away again, fixing his gaze straight ahead.
He had already decided he would pretend she was not there.
But then she opened her mouth, making it impossible to ignore her as he had intended.
"I saw a guard in front of my door last night," Elka said quietly, though there was sothing in her tone that made it clear she suspected Jayran had sothing to do with it.
"Do not speak to where others may see us," Jayran replied coldly. "Better yet, do not speak to at all unless I ask you to."
It took everything within him not to snap at her outright. Not that she would not deserve it if he did. But drawing attention to them in the middle of the palace corridors was the last thing he wanted.
Still, Elka was relentless.
"I saw a guard in front of my door last night," she repeated stubbornly, completely disregarding his warning.
Jayran’s jaw tightened.
"What about it?" he finally asked after realizing she had no intention of letting the matter go.
"So you admit it? You stationed a guard outside my chambers."
"Yes, I did," he answered sharply. "And for good reason."
As they drew closer to the throne room, he silently wished she would finally leave him alone. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side.
"It is unnecessary," Elka argued. "I do not require such strict supervision."
"I beg to differ."
The words ca out harsher than before.
"Do not forget why you are in this situation to begin with. Just because I pardoned you does not give you the right to question ." His voice was cold. "And if you believe having a guard outside your door each night is harsh, then perhaps you should try your hand at living inside a prison cell instead. That is where you belong after what you did."
Jayran’s eyes flashed dangerously as he looked at her, his fury sharp enough to make her falter.
He still could not erase the image of what she had done from his mind.
Even after Elka swore she would never attempt it again, he remained deeply concerned that she might sneak out in the dead of night to finish what she had started and finally kill Azul. She claid she wanted nothing more to do with Azul and never wished to be near him again, but Jayran hardly trusted a single word that ca from her mouth anymore.
There was very little she could do to change that.
After his outburst, Elka said nothing else.
She knew continuing the conversation would be pointless. In Jayran’s eyes, she would always be the woman who had tried to murder his brother and nothing more.
At last, they reached their destination.
The massive double doors of the throne room swung open at their approach, revealing a chamber already crowded with courtiers draped in extravagant fabrics and jeweled finery. The low murmur of conversation briefly halted the mont Jayran and Elka crossed the threshold together.
It did not take long for heads to turn toward them.
Dozens of gazes settled upon the pair at once, sharp with curiosity and poorly concealed intrigue as they entered side by side wearing matching neutral expressions.
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