Page 112 of Song of the Heart Scale
Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, accompanied by the clank of armored guards. The air in the dungeon seemed to thicken, growing heavier with each approaching step.
Guards wearing polished armor and crimson capes flanked the entrance, standing at rigid attention as a tall figure strode through.
Emperor Thorne filled the doorway, his presence instantly commanding the eyes of everyone in the room. His black hair was swept back from a face that could have been carved from marble—all sharp angles and cold authority. The imperial crown sat upon his brow, gold and obsidian twisted together like flameand shadow. His eyes, piercing and blue like a predator's, swept the chamber before landing on me.
The interrogator dropped to one knee. “Your Imperial Majesty! We didn't expect—”
“Silence,” Thorne commanded, his voice deceptively soft, yet carrying enough power to freeze the very air in the chamber. His ocean blue eyes narrowed as they fixed on my hanging form.
The interrogator kept his head bowed. “Your Majesty, we captured this woman during the market riots. She claims to be Lady Arya, but we've confirmed Lady Arya is in the palace—”
“Is she?” Thorne interrupted, taking measured steps toward me. Each footfall echoed in the sudden silence.
My vision swam, consciousness slipping. Through the haze of pain, I watched Emperor Thorne approach, his expression unreadable. I tried to speak, but my throat produced only a raw whisper.
“Thorne...”
He reached me and lifted my chin with one gloved finger. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he examined my face, turning it this way and that. Despite my blurred vision, I saw the moment recognition flickered in his blue eyes.
“Leave us,” he commanded, not looking away from me.
The interrogator hesitated. “Your Majesty, this prisoner was involved in today's riot. She's dangerous—”
“I said,leave us.” Thorne's voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “Now.”
The interrogator and guards scrambled to obey, slamming the door behind them with a heavy thud. Silence fell over the chamber, broken only by my ragged breathing and the occasional drip of blood onto stone.
Thorne slowly circled me, taking in my torn clothing, the burns on my side, and the lash marks across my back. His jaw tightened, a muscle working beneath the surface. When hecompleted his circuit, he stood before me, his eyes blazing with something I couldn't quite name.
“Arya,” he said simply, confirming what I'd been screaming for hours.
“Finally,” I croaked, my voice barely audible. “Someone with eyes.”
His mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but something close. “The guards informed me a woman claiming to be Lady Arya had been captured during the riots. I came to see for myself.” He reached up to touch my face again, his fingers tracing a bruise forming on my cheekbone. “I must say, this is quite a change from our last encounter.”
The memory flashed between us—me pinning him to the ground with a knee on his throat as I bested the newly crowned Emperor in combat. That was the fight that led to me hiding in Royal Prince Bai's mansion with Damien for the past few days.
“You look terrible,” Thorne stated flatly.
“Yeah, well, your hospitality leaves much to be desired,” I managed through cracked lips.
Without warning, he reached up and unlocked the shackles. My legs buckled, but Thorne caught me before I hit the ground. Pain shot through my body at the contact and I couldn't suppress a whimper.
“Who did this to you?” His voice was dangerously calm.
“Your masked friend,” I whispered. “He didn't believe me.”
Thorne's jaw clenched, his eyes scanning my face with unsettling intensity. “You've been hiding from me for days. With my brother, I presume?”
I said nothing, which was answer enough.
“At Uncle Bai's mansion in the Northern District,” he continued, his voice deceptively conversational. “Did you really think I didn't know?”
A chill ran through me despite the burning pain of my wounds. He'd known all along.
“Why now?” I asked. “Why come for me now?”
Thorne's lips curved into a cold smile. “I didn't. You walked right into my dungeon, Lady Arya.” He shifted his grip to better support my weight, his eyes falling to the blood-soaked fabric of my dress. “You've made quite a mess of things.”
