Kieran's pov
The dungeons beneath the palace reeked of iron and fear.
It was colder here—darker, too—like the walls themselves drank light. I walked with purpose, each step echoing in the silence. Behind me, the two guards carried the would-be assassin by the arms, dragging his bloodied body through the corridor. His mask had been ripped off. His face… young. Too young for hands that moved like death itself.
He didn't speak. Didn't look afraid. And that made me furious.
They'd tried to kill her.
Athena.
And if I'd been one minute slower—
No. I wasn't going to think about that.
I pushed the iron door open with a bang. The interrogation chamber was plain—stone, chains, one torch flickering on the wall. I motioned for the guards to shackle him to the back wall.
Then I dismissed them.
He grunted as the manacles clicked into place, but still said nothing. I stared at him from across the room, arms folded.
"You're brave," I said. "Or stupid."
Nothing.
