Torin
Even without seeing his face, I knew it was him. The sheer weight of his presence was enough to make the air in the room feel even thinner. He didn't come in; He just stood there, taking up all the space in the doorway, making the air in the cell feel like it was running out
I froze. My breath hitched in my chest, and for a heartbeat, I forgot how to exhale.
This is wrong, I thought. This has to be a mistake. I was a high-ranking Lord of Valdris. I was a diplomat. I was protected by laws that had existed for centuries. How were they going to explain this? If I died here, King Aldric wouldn't just sit by. Even with the treaty, murdering a delegate in cold blood was an act of war. They couldn't be that stupid. They couldn't just throw away everything for a what was likely a lie from Irina.
“How… how will you explain this?” I tried to shout, but it came out as a pathetic, high-pitched whine. “The King… he’ll burn this place to the ground!”
Fenris didn't move. He didn't even acknowledge I’d spoken. He just stepped to the side, making room.
And then, Sera walked in.
“I’m sorry, Torin,” Sera said. Her voice was soft, but it carried perfectly in the quiet of the dungeon. “I really am.”
I felt a spark of hope. Sorry. Sorry meant they were letting me go. They must have realized the mistake.
“Then let me up,” I said, my voice cracking. “Let’s just… let’s talk about this. We can find a way to sort this…misunderstanding. We can—”
“You don’t understand,” Sera interrupted, stepping closer. “The Queen has been looking for a way. I interrogated her in everyway possible. But there is no way to remove the Totem from inside your heart. Not while you’re breathing.”
The floor felt like it had disappeared. I stared at her, my mouth hanging open.
“What?”
“The magic is bound to you,” she continued. “Irina said she had no idea how to remove it. The only thing she can account for was placing it in.”



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