Chapter 731 It Would Not Be Easy

• Torch light washed the platform of the sanctuary in trembling gold. Guards in iron-black mail dragged Elowen forward, their boots echoing like distant war drums.
• Her gown, white as fresh snow, neither wrinkled nor soiled, seemed to cast its own faint glow. Even weeks in a windowless cell had failed to dull the proud tilt of her chin.
• Pedro stepped down from the platform, each stride measured, predatory. Cold lamplight glinted across his eyes, turning them into twin shards of obsidian fixed on Elowen's face.