Chapter 67

"I alone, I was the only one preparing, as in war, to onward-march and bear the agony that thought will now unfailingly relate."

-Dante Alighieri, The Devine Comedy

I heard voices, whispers all around me, but my head felt so heavy. Slightly disoriented at first, I forced myself to sit up. It took me a few moments to realise that I wasn't in my own flat. My thoughts were spinning too fast. I shut my eyes again and eased onto my back, trying to steady my breathing as panic sliced through my belly.

The space around me looked a lot like a prison cell, and that could only mean one thing. The magic I attempted to use against the prince failed and I got myself in a hell of a lot of trouble.

I remembered walking straight into Arthur's private quarters. That horrible conversation with the prince himself invaded my sleep-hazed consciousness once again.

Arthur stood in front of me overwhelmed with emotions. His skin was slowly turning sallow. A vein bulged along his throat.