We were flanked by the guards, led down into the dungeon. Only this time, we walked deeper, far deeper than I've ever known. As if this place was carved out for prisoners who were never meant to see the light of the moon, ever again. My heart cracked further with every step down.
I held my sleeping Lucien against my chest, wrapped in his father's black coat to shield him from the damp chill and any of the guards' eyes. Far as they knew, the child never existed. Thankfully, he was still peacefully sleeping, relishing on the warmth of my arms and the scent of his father.
The torches along the walls burned low, their smoke clinging heavy in the stale air. Even fire itself seemed unwelcome here. Too dangerous, too alive. Just in case it their Prince decided to fuck it and burn the place down.
The hallway bristled with guards, stationed at careful intervals. Not watching us, but the cell at the end. My stomach knotted. It was like they weren't guarding a prisoner, but a monster.
