At that promise, blood drained from her face.
For the first time, his mask seemed less a barrier and more a weapon when she felt the slight tug on the lower part of his face. No…
Why? Why kill an innocent soul when the guilty one had confessed? Why deprive the culprit of the right to a trial as was done in Veximoor? But Lucrezia knew how biased and polluted political matters were in the hands of her father.
What had she expected? He declared Madelyn free of the charges and seized her instead? Or something worse she'd been too blind, perhaps too convinced that whatever transpired between them last night had... softened him, even if it was just a little.
Stupid, stupid, Lucrezia.
"No," it left her lips before she could prevent it, low and steady now. "Y-You'll do nothing to her. I-I've confessed. You have your culprit. Punish me instead," She forced the last three sentences in a breathless pace.
Something like amusement flickered through his eyes, and she forgot to breathe. "Punish you?" he tilted his head. "And why, my beloved traitor, would I grant you such reprieve?"
R-Reprieve?
Lucrezia didn't know what to say, yet she opened her mouth, allowing whatever words be damned later, "B-Because if you kill her," she started. "… you'll never know what she found,"
Lucrezia's heartbeat doubled when she blurted, breathing from its weight.
The atmosphere shrank out of existence as silence stretched in a hard, electric expanse, eliciting a dangerous air exuding from the creature before her.
For a while, he said nothing but observed every bit of her soul. The raw emotions in her eyes; the pain, the fear, the defiance…
He stared with an unreadable expression behind the mask. "I don't need to know what she found. I await your confession, little wolf," he said. "And now, you'll watch me take her life away as easily as it was to convince her to come to my land."
Lucrezia's heart stopped beating.
"Unbind her,"
At that command, a guard stepped forward. The soft thud of his boot on the stone floor mimicked the rate of her heartbeat as her eyes followed every detailed movement.
In an instant, a half-loud, half-silent 'whoosh' disimbued the magic, and the air rippled until the wolf gained leverage, and silence claimed after.
She was free.
Lucrezia's heart pumped with such viciousness that it almost disparaged her consciousness. Beyond his shoulder, she saw the white-wolf collapse to its knees, as the invincible chains lost their hold.
A tremor passed through her lips before it settled into a sigh of relief.
Hope—as dangerous as it was—bloomed across her chest and flooded her veins with both promise and peril. If he let her free, does that mean he was going to let her go?
Lucrezia knew how foolish the thought was. The Devil never lets his prey go until it rips out every bit of its soul.
So her eyes quickly scanned the number of guards present at the courtyard and ones surrounding the threshold—nine at the pyre, three by the main gate, two shadowing the lord himself… and her eyes settled on Lady Agnes at the top balcony, watching, and observing with interest and confusion.
Because she was Lady Anastasia, and this… this wasn't what the rumors told.
Lucrezia saw the entertainment in her eyes, as if to tell her how this story would end. As if to confirm she was indeed weak, breakable, and extremely vulnerable for a man like him.
Lucrezia tore her eyes away, and back to the scene. It was enough, perhaps, to clench the courtyard like a fist. Not enough, maybe, to hold her if she moved clean and fast. Lucrezia knew the wolf couldn't make it as a result of its weakness but could if she was fast enough.
Fast enough to escape the hands of death when it foolishly—not mercifully—rendered an advantage to the wolf. When her eyes found it, she breathed.
For a moment, all she could see was the eyes of Madelyn; those fierce yet warm eyes, that voice whispering "everything would be okay" when the days went bad, and the embrace whenever her nightmares happened…. it all flashed like a blur, and a lone tear spilled across her face.
When the white wolf cried, her soul was crushed. For one minute, Lucrezia's eyes never left it, afraid that if she did… she'll be gone.
Her face drained of color at the thought. Go! The word burned on her tongue—she longed to scream it, to rush toward the wolf—but terror clamped her voice shut. This time, a single word might truly get her killed and strong hands held her back.
So she waited, hoped, and prayed Madelyn would run, and make use of this advantage to escape.
More than ever, Lucrezia was willing to risk her life if it meant Madelyn surviving. She would have drawn on her power but the tonic's effects still lingered, suppressing every trace of her sorcery.
Finally, as though it heard her, the wolf moved. Lucrezia let out a shaky sigh as she watched it take charge, thinking it was turning away but blood drained out of her face when it surged toward their direction.
No…
The world seemed to spin tremendously around her when a sudden blur of white and motion wrapped her vision. The flash of claws and teeth baring to a snarl gripped her attention as Madelyn lunged straight for him—who remained facing her—in a desperate streak of wounded light.
Lucrezia gasped, unable to manage the head spin, and thankfully, she pressed her body instinctively as though it could shield her from the horror at broad daylight.
For a fleeting, foolish heartbeat, she thought the wolf might reach him. That it might sink her class into his throat and tear free some vengeance for whatever cruelty had brought her here, but Lord Vaeron didn't even flinch.
The wolf was young, yet formidable at a greater advantage but no matter how big it was, it couldn't match the creature's intimidation.
He stood perfectly still, one hand at his side as it neared, and the other lifting slightly, not in defense but an invitation. At that moment, rationality clamped her shut, trapped somewhere between the thundering of her pulse.
Something was wrong and Lucrezia felt it deep within her bones. I-It was a trap.
"Madelyn, no!"
But it was already too late as it collided with him, and a burst of motion rolled across the stones, vanishing into the tangle of white fur and black buldric.
Out of reflex, Lucrezia clasped her eyes shut, hoping to all the gods what she wasn't really sure about. Her safety… or his?
Silence followed after the crash until the soft tumble of something rolled across the stone floor, resting a few inches away from her feet.
Oh, gods...
Lucrezia's pulse thundered against her chest when the silence seemed to rot, growing heavier the longer she refused to look.
She knew she had to—she should turn and see— to confirm perhaps, but even the thought of it stripped away what little courage she had left.
It was only when it felt like the world sucked in that familiar darkness, replacing it with something lesser, did her eyes slowly opened.
The courtyard was unnervingly still and too good to be true. It was the kind of silence that felt wrong, deliberate, like the world was waiting for something to move first, and the first thing that caught her eyes was a blood-stained creature holding a dripping blade.
It suddenly felt like the world was upside down, when her gaze fell to notice the severed head of the white wolf a few feet away.