Tears glistened in her eyes, but her chin lifted in defiance.
A challenge.
A plea.
I couldn’t suppress a scoff, though something inside me quailed at the idea of her innocence.
“But here you are,” I continued, my voice cold and biting, as I gestured to the alchemy tools strewn across the room.“Creating powerful concoctions, working with forbidden knowledge, leaving traces of your work in France.”
My eyes narrowed, watching her, waiting for the cracks to form.
“I read your notes, Elizabeth.”
The name seared on my tongue.
“You’re involved.”
She shook her head desperately, eyes wide, hands trembling.
“I promise you, I have nothing to do with this!”
I didn’t blink.
“We shall see.”
The words sliced through the air—calm, merciless, stripped of warmth.
“One way or another, I will loosen your lips.”
Her breath hitched.
“And if you refuse to cooperate?—”
I stepped closer, towering over her, watching how her body tensed.
“You’ll regret it.”
A flicker of fear passed through her gaze—but she didn’t back down.
Not yet.
Then—the sound of boots.
My men stepped forward, their appearance swallowing the small cottage like an inevitable fate.
Elizabeth’s breathing turned shallow and erratic, her body coiling as if preparing to flee?—
Then, she screamed.
A sound raw and unfiltered, like a wounded animal’s final cry, tearing through the trees, desperate and wild.
But there was no time for hesitation.
There was no room for doubt.
“Take her to my dungeon,” I ordered, my heart steeling against the surge of pity that tried to creep into my chest.
Elizabeth struggled, eyes fiery, fury mixing with terror—but it was too late.
