Everyone watched as Thalia's unconscious body was lifted onto a stretcher.
Two guards took their places at the front and back before carrying her out of the hall, their footsteps echoing against the stone floor as they marched away.
Rosalind caught one final glimpse of Thalia's face before she disappeared from sight, but the image refused to leave her mind. The screams, the sickening smell of burnt flesh, and the sight of Thalia's ruined hand stayed at the back of her mind like a haunting memory.
A terrible thought twisted in her stomach.
What if one day Alaric grew tired of her?
What if, he decided to hurt her the way he had hurt Thalia?
The thought made her stomach twist so badly she thought she might throw up.
After the guards left, the hall fell into silence. The women remained rooted to their spots, afraid to even shift their weight, as if the slightest wrong movement might invite the king's wrath upon them.
