274 – Thorne POV
The corridor is quiet.
Cold stone beneath my boots. Dim torchlight flickering against damp walls. The scent of salt and moss clinging to the underground air like mold. I walk without hurry, the echo of each step a calm, deliberate promise.
I'm going to see him.
The first guest of the dungeon.
The first to grace these cells.
The king.
—or should I say, the ex king.
There's something poetic about it, really. The man who once sat on a golden throne, now locked beneath the earth, caged like the rat he is.
A faint wind hisses through the corridor's vents, brushing past me like a whisper of judgment.
I don't mind the cold.
It keeps the blood calm.
Two guards( guards? When did we get guards?) bow as I pass them. Leona stands silently beside the heavy iron door, arms crossed, her face blank. She doesn't ask if I want company. She knows I don't.
She opens the door.
I step inside.
