Given's steps were uneven, his limp a sharp reminder of the battles he had endured, both physical and emotional. His mind churned with the pieces of the puzzle Lyric had given him—fragments that painted a picture darker than he had ever imagined. Yet, despite the weight of it all, his resolve hardened. He had no time for hesitation.
As he rounded the corner of the corridor , ahead, a figure emerged from the shadows, blocking his path. His father stood there, one hand raised as if to halt his progress, the other tucked behind his back in a gesture of practiced nonchalance.
"Given," his father said, his voice low and steady, not even bothering to turn fully toward him. "It's no use. You should know that by now."
Given slowed but did not stop, his jaw tightening. "No!" he snapped, his voice resonating through the hall. "It's no use for me because I still need you to release Evelyn from the spell you've trapped her in. But it will be useful to the Queen. She needs to know the truth—the real reason behind all of this. Lyric has the answers, and she's going to speak to her. As for you..."
He took a step closer, his light green eyes narrowing. "You might as well join Lord Edward and Lord Daniel in the dungeons for all I care . Now, get out of my way, and don't even think about running. I will hunt you down before my body gives out. Believe me."
Without waiting for a reply, Given limped past him, his father's expression unreadable in the flickering torchlight.
The corridors seemed longer than usual, each step bringing a sharper pain to his leg, but he didn't falter. The information Lyric had shared haunted him, a constant echo in his mind.
Every Lord was approached.
The witch had been meticulous in her manipulations. Every Lord within the Kingdom and close to the court had been approached for a reason. She had dangled their deepest desires in front of them, twisting their weaknesses into tools for her agenda.
He is needed as a vessel. A vessel for what? Or whom? The thought made his stomach churn.
Evelyn—his heart clenched at the thought of her—was a distraction. But a distraction for what purpose?
And his father... Given's fists clenched at his sides. Immortality. It made sense, painfully so. His father's obsession with power and control had always been his downfall.
Lord Edward's role was clear: capturing Evelyn. The witch had promised to uncurse his late wife, a cruel manipulation.
Lord Varosh had already defected, aligning himself with the other side. Given pushed the thought of him away for now.
Lord Daniel... Given's brows furrowed. He had been approached to open the borders and portal, seeking freedom from Lunareth's roots. But freedom at what cost?
And then there was Lord Barret. His motives and role were unclear, but Given couldn't ignore the possibility of betrayal. Someone in their midst would turn against them, and he needed to figure out who before it was too late.