Court Of Shadows and Lies

14. Chains of Silence

[Author's POV]

As Cessalie stepped away and locked the door behind her, a stillness settled in the dim cell. The man lifted his face from his knees, and for the first time, the light caught his features. His amber-orange eyes shone like glowing embers against the dark backdrop of his suffering. They held a mixture of weariness and a flicker of curiosity as he stared toward the place where she had sat.

With a trembling hand, he reached out, hovering it over the space she had occupied, as if trying to grasp the warmth of her presence that still lingered in the air. Memories of her words echoed in his mind, the promise of hope and freedom swirling around him like a ghost.

For a moment, he hesitated, caught between the instinct to retreat into his shell and the faint yearning to believe in the possibility of escape. The grip of despair had been so tight for so long that the idea of liberation felt almost foreign. Yet, her voice, firm and insistent, reverberated through the silence, urging him to consider a path he had long abandoned.

He blinked, trying to focus on the fading light filtering through the bars of his cell. It felt surreal-this woman, this fierce spirit, had dared to enter his darkness and offered him a glimmer of something he had thought lost forever: a chance to be seen, to be rescued.

As he drew his hand back, the warmth dissipated, leaving behind the cold stone of his reality.

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[Cessalie's POV]

I returned to the palace, and as expected, there was Rylan, standing at the entrance with his arms crossed, chest puffed up like he was ready to wage war. His expression screamed anger, and I could almost hear his thoughts echoing through the halls. I tried my hardest to ignore him and slip past, but of course, that wasn't going to happen. As I made my way by, he grabbed my wrist, his grip firm.

"This is the second time I'm asking you where you've been, Cessalie," he said, his tone laced with frustration.

I didn't respond, just turned my back to him, trying to shake off his hold. I could practically feel his jaw clenching in irritation.

"I asked where you've been the whole day, Cessalie," he pressed again, voice tight with tension.

I clenched my jaw, unwilling to answer. What could I possibly say?

What do I tell him? Oh, should I just come clean? "Hey, Rylan, I spent the day searching for the nine witches, but guess what? Four of them can't help me, and the other four are perfectly content living like peasants. And last one is stuck in some weird, wicked bathing house as a slave."

I rolled my eyes in my head, suppressing a snort.

Yeah, that'll go over well. He'd probably faint from the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

"Look, I don't have time for this," I finally said, yanking my wrist free and turning to face him, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. "I'm busy."

But he wasn't having it. His brows knitted together as he stood there, waiting for me to give him something, anything. And there was that irritating sense of entitlement in his gaze, as if I owed him an explanation. I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to roll my eyes again.

"Just... drop it, okay?" I said, my tone sharper than I intended. "I'm not a child anymore, and I don't need to report my every move to you."

I brushed past him, determined not to let him hold me back. But deep down, I felt the familiar knot of frustration tighten in my chest. I couldn't let Rylan's questions deter me from my plans.