The guards took the maids, Rue trailing off with screams, and Zoe barely able to walk on her feet. Azriel escorted Neera out, and the other guards were charged with emptying out the throne room as the noise mixed with their wails escalated.
Once back in the quiet of his study, Zavian poured himself a glass of wine and laid back in his chair. Usually, death was so good at unwinding him, spreading him out, and undoing every cell in his body. He hated the gloom of its presence, but this time, there was no welcoming of it, nor was there any urgent need for it to quickly pass away with the passage of days.
And that was all because there was barely enough guilt in him to kick-start it, only anger.
