Ah… what Cecil didn't know was that his so-called good brother—that very man—had long since abandoned any intention of offering mercy.
Especially not toward that despicable family.
If anything, the charity Cecil believed still existed had already rotted away, consumed by resentment, betrayal, and blood that could never be washed clean.
After everyone finally reached an agreement, they decided to give the men a few hours to prepare before setting out once more. Weapons were checked, supplies counted, routes redrawn on worn maps. The camp fell into a restless, uneasy silence—one filled with the distant sounds of sharpening steel and murmured conversations.
That was when Cassel cornered me against the wall of the room.
There was no warning.
One moment, I was turning away, my thoughts still tangled in the earlier discussion, and the next, my back hit cold stone.
Hard.
The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.
