The night was deathly quiet, broken only by the faint gasps of the cold draft that crept through the cracks above the pit.
Rhaegar lay motionless, his breathing shallow as he pretended to sleep along with the others. Around him, the muted snores and restless movements of the other boys provided a hollow soundtrack to his anticipation.
Tayiid sat across the pit, his back to the wall, as stoic and calm as ever. His expression gave nothing away, though Rhaegar could see the tension in the way his fingers traced the handle of the makeshift blade resting on his lap. This was finally the night.
As agreed, Rhaegar did not eat the food served to them the entire day with the intention of staying alert for what was about to come. Pretending to be asleep just like everyone else, he was afraid his nervous, loud heartbeat could be heard even outside the prison. Waiting was exhausting and every minute seemed to last an eternity.
And then, they came.
