Cyrus’s stomach twisted into acidic knots. How could the world turn so dark and cruel within the span of a single day? Magus lifted his shield and slammed it back down hard enough to crack a full foot-deep groove into the stone and wedge his shield permanently upright. With only his sword swinging in his relaxed grip, he approached the pair.

“Cleon and Berniss,” he said. “We are not ignorant of your kingdom and its history. Where is your son? The young man by the name of Cyrus?”

“I suspect he fled,” Cleon said. The courtyard had grown deathly quiet. “Please, it was not by our order. We don’t know where Cyrus has gone.”

The Imperator removed his bull helmet. Cyrus had expected more of a monster, but Magus seemed remarkably human, with deeply tanned skin, silver eyes, and a magnificent smile. His long black hair cascaded down either side of his face as he spoke.

“I requested the entire royal line. Was I not clear? Did my word-lace mistranslate?”

“No,” Berniss said. “Please, we looked, we did.”

The man shook his head.

“Lies, and more lies,” he said. “Do you stall for his safety? Feign at ignorance, as if your boy stands a chance of survival once this castle falls?”

Cyrus took a step, one single step out the doorway toward his parents, before Rayan grabbed him by his neck.

“We must escape while there is still time,” the paladin whispered. Cyrus resisted his pull to safety. He would watch this. He must.

“I gave my word,” Magus continued once it was clear neither would offer up Cyrus’s location. “A clear word, and a true promise. Accept this blood as a sacrifice to your memory. May it sear across your conscience in the eternal lands beyond.”

Cyrus knew fleeing with Rayan was the wiser decision. He knew it was what his parents wanted. But it seemed so simple to Cyrus, so obvious what the right course of action must be. He turned away from the door, pretending to go with the paladin. The moment Rayan’s hand released from his neck, Cyrus shoved the man’s chest, separating them. A heartbeat later he was out the door, legs and arms flailing as he willed his body to run faster. The distance between them felt like miles. His voice sounded quiet, insignificant, but he screamed it nonetheless.

“I’m here!” It didn’t matter if he put his own life at risk. He wouldn’t leave his family behind. He wouldn’t let them die for his sake. He ran, crossing the green grass of the courtyard between him and the gathered soldiers. “I’m here, I’m here, I’m—”