Seraphielle took the cue. For several tense seconds, she remained where she stood, watching the king carefully, as though expecting him to change his mind at any moment.
The dagger was still pressed against her throat, its edge biting just enough into her skin to leave a thin line of blood. Valerian's expression gave her no reassurance that she would survive the next few minutes if she remained there, but his order had been clear. Let her leave.
Slowly, Seraphielle lowered the dagger. She took one cautious step backward, and no one moved to stop her. She took another step and still nothing.
Only then did she gather the hem of her soaked dress in one hand and turn sharply, breaking into a run. She sprinted through the courtyard, her boots striking the wet stone as she disappeared into the darkness beyond the ruined manor.
