I limp through the halls of the palace, every step a reminder of the heat pulsing through my body, the pain wracking my bones, and the rage boiling beneath my skin. My mind fixates on one thing—Noelle. I have to get to Noelle.
My grip tightens around the cane, every inch of pressure on my injured leg sends white-hot pain shooting up, but I don't care. Noelle is going to be furious when he sees the state I'm in. I had just started using my left as normal, the dull ache only a faint reminder of my battles. But now? Now I've probably undone everything. Still, if I can just make it to him, he'll understand. He has to.
"Thorne."
The voice yanks me from my singular focus. Count Raymond. My eyes sharpen as I lift my gaze, and there they are. Raymond and the king, flanked by a small army of guards. As if their pathetic soldiers could stop me if I truly wanted them dead.
"The fucking audacity you have," I spit, my voice low and venomous.
