The Valeidio procession moved steadily through the dense, shadowed forest, the sun casting dim patches of light through thick branches overhead.
Sadiki stumbled along at the back of the group, his wrists tightly bound, his ankles chafing against the ropes. His heart felt heavy, twisted with regret, yet his captors didn't care for his remorse, they looked at him only with disdain. With every step, he sensed their anger, their hatred. And beneath his guilt, he felt fear, an icy, clinging fear for his mother.
Was she still alive? Had Prince Carl already carried out his threat? Or was she... was she lost to him long before he even betrayed Prince Eirik?
The questions haunted him as he was dragged along, the guards jerking the rope tied to his bound hands, almost relishing the chance to inflict even the smallest discomfort. A guard tugged the line particularly hard, causing Sadiki to stumble, nearly falling face-first into the muddy path.
