The guards scrambled after her.
The king was deathly pale as he stumbled after them, his trembling fingers barely catching the torch as a guard thrust it into his hands.
Irene could barely see past her own tears as she gripped Jace's arm and dragged him with her, the sound of their own frantic breathing filling the corridor.
By the time they reached the main hall of the castle, the whispers had already begun.
"The bodies…" one guard muttered, breathless. "Those marks… what kind of creature does that?"
"Dark magic," another murmured. "A curse, perhaps?"
The king, still pale and shaken, could only shake his head, his lips moving but forming no words.
And then—
Audrey turned sharply, her emerald eyes blazing as she pointed a single accusatory finger.
"The witch."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
"Salviana," she hissed, her voice carrying. "She must have done this. She must have used them for something."
The king swallowed thickly. "You don't—"
