The snow was falling harder when Gerffron turned his horse back toward the Wadee villa.
His hands were numb on the reins. His shoulder burned from the crossbow graze. Styrmir was gone — safe on the river, heading toward the border with Acquikth's man. The boy had looked back one last time, storm-gray eyes full of tears and broken trust.
"I'll wait for you," Styrmir had whispered.
Gerffron had pushed the boat off with his own hands, knowing it was the only way to keep them both alive.
Now he rode alone through the forest, cloak torn, blood soaking his sleeve, mind racing with the plan for how to slip back into the villa unnoticed.
He never got the chance.
The first bolt came out of nowhere.
It slammed into Shadow's flank. The mare screamed and went down hard. Gerffron rolled free just in time, dagger already in hand.
Teivel's elite guards — black cloaks, silver masks — emerged from the trees like ghosts. Six of them. Lanterns swinging. Swords drawn.
"The consort!" one shouted. "He's the one! Take him alive!"
Gerffron ran.
Snow flew. Branches whipped his face. He could hear the guards crashing behind him, shouting orders. Another bolt whistled past his ear and buried itself in a tree.
He zigzagged through the forest, heart pounding, breath ragged. The villa lights were visible through the trees — so close.
A guard tackled him from the side.
They hit the snow hard. Gerffron twisted, driving his elbow into the man's throat. The guard choked. Gerffron stabbed downward with the dagger — once, twice — and rolled free.
But there were more.
A boot slammed into his ribs. Pain exploded. He gasped, curling instinctively. Another kick to the head. Stars burst behind his eyes.
"Hold him!"
Rough hands pinned him down. A fist smashed into his face. Blood filled his mouth.
"Gerffron Wadee," a cold voice said above him. "You are under arrest for treason and aiding the escape of royal property."
They dragged him through the snow, bound his wrists with iron cuffs, and threw him over a horse like a sack of grain. The ride back to the palace was a blur of pain and cold.
When they threw him into the interrogation chamber in the east wing, Gerffron could barely stand.
The room was stone and iron. Chains hung from the walls. Teivel was waiting, lounging in a chair like he owned the world, golden hair perfect, blue eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Well, well," the Crown Prince said softly. "The pretty little house-husband who thought he could steal from me."
Gerffron spat blood onto the floor. "Where is he?"
Teivel laughed. "The boy? Already on his way to a buyer who paid extra for broken things. You failed, consort. Spectacularly. What did you think? Your boat landed safely? No. Nobody leaves Teivel Scougall's den unscathed."
The first punch came from behind — a guard's fist to the kidneys. Gerffron dropped to his knees.
They beat him methodically. Not enough to kill. Just enough to break.
When they finally stopped, Gerffron was on the floor, blood pooling beneath him, vision blurring.
Teivel crouched in front of him. "Who helped you? Remal? Acquikth? Tell me, and I might let you die quickly."
Gerffron smiled through bloodied lips. "Go to hell."
Teivel stood. "Bring the Duke. She deserves to see what her husband really is."
The door opened.
Gorgina walked in.
She was still in her ball gown, cape swirling behind her, face pale as the snow outside. Her golden-amber eyes widened when they landed on Gerffron — beaten, chained, bleeding on the stone floor.
For one heartbeat, pure horror crossed her face.
Then Teivel spoke.
"Your consort freed the phantom prince tonight," he said coldly. "He orchestrated the escape during the ball. The boy is gone. Your husband betrayed us both."
Gorgina stared at Gerffron.
The horror slowly drained away.
In its place came something colder. Harder. The Duke returned.
She walked forward slowly until she stood over him.
Gerffron looked up at her through swollen eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Gorgina's hand cracked across his face — hard.
The slap echoed in the chamber.
She hit him again. And again. Open palm, then closed fist. Tears streamed down her face even as she struck him.
"You promised me," she screamed, voice breaking. "You promised you wouldn't leave me!"
The guards didn't stop her. Teivel watched with a satisfied smile.
Gorgina finally stepped back, chest heaving, hands trembling with blood on her knuckles.
"Take him to the dungeons," she said, voice cold and dead. "I can no longer see his face. He is a traitor."
She turned and walked out without looking back.
Gerffron was dragged away, blood trailing on the stone floor.
The hell had only just begun.