“On the king’s orders.” His voice sounded flat and hollow, as if he just said out loud the words spinning in his head forever.

“The typical excuse of a coward.” I shoved harder against him, twisting out of his arms.

He was no better than his king but even more dangerous because Voron also appeared caring and real. My attraction to him ran deeper than the superficial fascination I’d had for King Tiane.

I stormed down the path toward the palace. I expected to hear his footsteps behind me, but instead of following me, the sound of his footfalls moved away from me, dying in the distance. I paused with my hand on the handle of the carved door to the palace.

Where was he going?

Curiosity might not be a quality King Tiane admired in a woman. It might even be dangerous, especially in Elaros. Sadly, my curiosity about Voron proved unquenchable.

Letting go of the door handle, I quietly moved along the palace wall. Bypassing the tunnel of flower arches under which Voron had kissed me, I stayed close to the bushes that lined the glowing walls of the palace, using their shade to stay out of sight of the guards watching the grounds from above.

Voron strode out from under the arches and headed straight toward the spikes with the cursed.

He didn’t enter the grounds, however. His warning to me must apply to him as well. He didn’t want to be caught violating the king’s rules. Instead, he circled the forest of spikes, getting closer to the one impaling the girl. Here, he paused, scanned the skies above, then looked over his both shoulders before finally closing the distance separating him from the girl.

His cloak moved, momentarily expanding before falling down his shoulders again. Then, he moved away from her promptly, heading back to the flower tunnel.

As his tall, dark figure disappeared under the arches, the screams and groans of the tortured woman died down before stopping completely.

What did he do?

Unable to resist a chance to find out, I came closer, to the very edge of the grounds.

The woman hung from the spike impaling her through her torso from behind. Her back arched, her head was tipped backwards. Her eyes were closed. But her mouth remained open, chapped and bitten lips parted, with no sound coming from them anymore. The night breeze moved the few remaining strands of her hair—the only movement on this stilled body.

Thick clouds obstructed the stars and the moon now. However, the glow from the crystals in the palace walls illuminated the girl’s body enough for me to see the thin clear lines on her skin. They spread like spider webs from the wound around the spike, turning the skin and the flesh underneath transparent, just like the patches of the other corpses around us.

The girl was dead. They said the torment of the promise breakers didn’t end with their death, that they still suffered in the afterlife until the gods or some higher power released them. But I was glad that at least in this world, her torture was now over. I hoped and prayed that her punishment in the afterlife wouldn’t take long, either.

“May you have peace at last,” I whispered, reaching to stroke the limp strands of her hair that turned transparent in my fingers.

Tears welled in my eyes, making my vision blurry. A spark glimmered through the fog. It came from the place where the spike pierced the girl’s chest.

I wiped the tears off with my shawl, blinking the haze away. Something glistened in the open wound of the dead body. It was a metal pin. Tiny red sparks ran along its dark surface. The pin was made with Nerifir iron, the only metal that could kill a fae. And the top of it was decorated with a feather carved from an onyx-black stone.

The last time I saw a pin like that, it was sunk into the luxurious silk of Voron’s necktie. Somehow, it didn’t surprise me that he would wear a deadly weapon like an iron pin next to his neck.

Reaching over the torso of the dead woman, I carefully retrieved the pin. It seemed completely clean. If there had been any particles of gore or blood clinging to its surface, they must have already turned invisible and disappeared.

I clutched the pin in my hand and ran.

The girl was finally dead, and it was because of Voron. The only mercy this poor woman got didn’t come from me. It didn’t come from her king, either. But from his executioner.

And I’d called him a coward.

I caught up with Voron as he opened the door to the palace. The soft glow of the crystals backlit his dark cloaked figure.

At the sound of my footsteps, he let go of the door. As he turned, his hand smoothly reached behind him, sliding out his sword from the sheath on his back. In one swift movement, he faced me with the sword thrust my way.

“Wait!” I jumped back, barely evading the blade. “It’s me. Sparrow.”

“By the wings of death!” He shoved the sword back into the sheath under his cloak.

“Sorry, I startled you.” I wasn’t scared, even as I’d merely avoided being struck by his sword.

He stretched his neck. “I don’t like surprises. Don’t sneak up on me like that ever again.”