Page 45 of A Promise of Lies (Shadows of the Tenebris Court #3)

44

Bastian

T he room sat ready for dinner to be served, cutlery gleaming in the light spilling through the glazed balcony doors. With one long table at the far end and three others perpendicular to it, everyone would be able to see the raised top table. At its centre was an empty space with a silk cloth and no place setting.

A lone figure sat there, silhouetted against the windows overlooking a balcony.

“Krae?”

No answer.

I stilled. Something was off. A trap.

But there was no sign of anyone else, so cautiously, I approached.

Coppery hair hid their face, but it was Krae.

They could have sold us out to Cyrus in exchange for a pardon. And Cyrus had a history of staging attacks during events. He had a flare for the dramatic.

It certainly felt like a trap.

I circled the table, every sense on high alert. A burnt scent in the air made my nose wrinkle—scorched meat and hair.

Past the table, I could see dark bands tying Krae’s wrists to the chair.

“Shit,” I whispered and edged closer, shadows ready in case this was an ambush.

Handprint shapes had been seared through their clothing, leaving charred holes and raw red marks on their arms. That burning smell—it was them . If this was a trap, it was one they’d fully committed to.

I pushed back their hair. A snare dug into their throat, the other end secured to the back of the chair, keeping them upright.

Their eyelids fluttered as they stirred. “I’m sorry… I didn’t want to tell him, but…”

Cyrus had tortured them. The realisation swept in on a wave of nausea.

“Doesn’t look like he left you much choice. Let’s get you out of here.” As gently as I could, I untied their wrists while my shadows eased under the snare and loosened it enough to slip it over their head.

“He burned it.” They gestured towards a pile of smoking ash.

Before I could work out what “it” was, I felt eyes on me and a voice rang out from the balcony.

“Here he is, right on time. The queen’s loyal dog.”