The Cold King - Part 1

~ DAVID ~

It was a strange sensation walking down the long, stone stairways at the bottom of the castle, towards the dungeons. 

The dungeon of the palace was no place for a woman. I knew that. But somehow... I didn't care. Emory wasn't just any woman. She was a traitor, and a spy, and a liar. And she'd been a tool in the plot to remove my wife. My wife who I could not grieve, because I wasn't even sure who she was, or what she'd felt for me.

As I reached the lowest level and could hear the moans echoing in this dank chamber, as I stepped around a putrid, dark puddle I couldn't identify, or maybe didn't want to, I should have cared. I should have felt something knowing I had reduced Emory to this. 

But I didn't. 

I was numb. 

Stark was disgusted with me for sending her down here, insisting that there were other ways to crack through her shell. 

But I couldn't find it in myself to even ask what they were.