Charles raised a hand in a subtle signal. A knight stepped forward and removed Philip's gag—not to grant him freedom, but to ensure that every scream of agony would echo through the stable.
Charles seated himself in a nearby chair, his face devoid of emotion. With a nod, the torture began.
As Philip's bloodcurdling screams filled the air, Charles twitched a finger as if conducting a somber requiem for his son.
Michael shrugged at the sounds of agony coming from the abandoned stable.
He had just received news that two coffins had been carried out from the chambers where Elise and Randolph lay. Indeed, the world was a merciless place.
In the royal palace of Lania, Princess Astrid paced barefoot across the cold marble floor of her chamber. The chill of the stone beneath her feet seemed to mirror the unease in her heart.
