Aurora followed Marcus through the dismal remnants of their organization. The previous stronghold lay in ruins after the crown prince's raid, and the darkened corridors echoed with the footfalls of men cloaked in shadow. Their eyes flicked to her, a mix of curiosity and derision lingering in their gazes, amplifying the palpable tension in the air.
The flickering torchlight cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, emphasizing the sense of uncertainty that permeated the atmosphere. As their new leader's right hand, Aurora felt the weight of their expectations pressing down on her.
Glancing at Marcus, a dangerous glint sparkled in her eyes. He was nothing like the count—a mere fool who thought he had earned leadership through sheer luck. Yet, he was bound to obey her commands, the woman who had orchestrated daring heists and cunning schemes.
"Where did you put their bodies?" she whispered, her voice low and sharp.
