CHAPTER 20: UNDER ROYAL CHAINS

Within four hours, Adomas and the royal soldiers reached the dungeon of the Capital City. Dismounting his black horse, Adomas strode towards the entrance. Two watch guards blocked his path, raising their hands.

"Who are you, and what business brings you here?" one of them asked.

Adomas held up a scroll sealed with the royal emblem of Versimoil. "We are here to collect a prisoner under the Lord’s orders. Step aside."

"You cannot take anyone without prior permission from Envoy Egnatius Lightwood," said the other guard firmly.

Adomas did not argue. In one swift motion, he unsheathed his sword and slashed the first guard’s throat. The man’s head hit the ground with a dull thud. The second guard, eyes wide in horror, stumbled back and quickly opened the iron gate.

Startled by the commotion, the Head Guard emerged from inside. His eyes locked onto the bloodied sword in Adomas’s hand. "You’re from Versimoil," he noted, "but why are you here?"

"There’s a girl—blue eyes, brown hair. We’re here to take her. Lead us to her. Now." Adomas demanded.

The Head Guard knew one thing for sure—resisting meant death. But obeying might mean punishment later. "There must be a mistake," he tried, voice shaky. "There’s no girl here that matches—"

Adomas pressed his blade to the man’s shoulder and tilted his head. "Are you sure about that? Think again."

Pale and sweating, the guard swallowed hard. "P-please don’t kill me. I’ll show you. This way."

Inside the cellar, Anneliese heard the metallic clank of the gate unlocking but didn’t move. She remained curled on the floor, feigning sleep. Heavy footsteps approached. She tensed.

"We’re here to take you to the Royal Castle by the Lord’s command," came a deep voice.

She turned slowly, her eyes wary. The man standing before her was a stranger, cloaked in authority and menace. Fear gripped her. What if he’s one of Egnatius’s men here to finish what they started?

"No," she whispered. "I won’t go. I was arrested. I’ll stay here until I’m proven innocent."

Adomas frowned, confused by her refusal. Still, he didn’t waste time. "You’ll come willingly—or I’ll take you by force. Your choice."

She remained motionless.

With a sigh of irritation, he bent down, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her out.

Anneliese struggled weakly but had no strength left. She was thrown into a carriage, and the door slammed shut. She banged on the window, but no one responded. Soon, the carriage rolled forward.

Through the small window, she saw royal insignias on the soldiers’ armor. Why were royal soldiers here? Where were they taking her now?

Hours later, the carriage came to a halt. A soldier pulled the door open and dragged her out. Night had fallen. A towering palace loomed in the distance. Torches lit the pathway, flanked by rows of soldiers. Anneliese’s breath caught. This place was too fortified—escape would not come easy.

Adomas barked, "Take her to the royal dungeon. Put her in solitary. No one touches her. Not until the Lord arrives."

The guards obeyed.

The dungeon beneath the castle was darker and colder than the last. Her cell had four stone walls and a narrow iron gate. Light barely filtered through its gaps. Dragged inside and left alone, Anneliese traced the walls with trembling fingers before collapsing in one corner. She didn’t know where she was or why she’d been taken.

Her limbs ached. Her spirit was frayed. I can’t take much more of this, she thought. I have to escape. The moment someone opens that gate—I’ll run. No matter what.

Far away, in the Conclave’s grand chamber, the High Council gathered around the round table. Envoy Egnatius had just finished recounting the incident in Haselburg and the girl he had imprisoned.

Vincenzo’s gaze darkened. "And you waited over twenty-four hours to inform the Conclave? Why?"

"I intended to bring it up at today’s meeting. So I did," Egnatius replied stiffly.

Vincenzo looked around at the other members. "When a town vanishes, supernatural barriers are likely involved. The Dark Witches cast some kind of spells to block creatures like us from entering. If that girl was found inside Haselburg, she doesn’t possess any supernatural powers. That means she was telling the truth."

Egnatius raised a brow. "And how do you know so much about Dark Witchcraft?"

"That’s not the point, Lightwood," Vincenzo snapped. "The point is—you detained a possible innocent. You acted without consulting the Conclave."

"I had to secure her until I could bring her here—" Egnatius began.

"Then let’s hope," Vincenzo interrupted coldly, "that she remains unharmed. Because if anyone touched her... I won’t be merciful."

Egnatius stiffened. "She tried to run. The Head Guard had to discipline her slightly. But she’s fine."

Vincenzo’s voice dropped, deadly calm. "Let me make something clear to all present. Anneliese Levine—blue eyes, brown hair—is under my protection now. No one touches what’s mine."

Back in the Versimoil dungeon, time crawled by. No one came.

Alone in her new prison, Anneliese curled in the darkness. The previous day replayed in her mind like a nightmare—whippings, shame, pain. Gabriel’s hands. The cellmates’ eyes. She shook uncontrollably.

Her body was weak from hunger, her hope thinning with every second. The faintest light flickered through the cracks in the iron gate. But inside her, only darkness remained.

Finally, unable to bear the exhaustion, Anneliese slumped forward and passed out cold—silent, broken, and still.