Yvonne's heart hammered against her ribs so violently she could barely draw breath. The sword pressed to her throat had already nipped the skin; from the corner of her eye she watched a thin ribbon of blood slide down her neck and soak into the collar of her gown. The mad beast holding the blade didn't seem to care that he was making her bleed. His eyes had darkened until they looked monstrous. pupils swallowed by black, the familiar blue drowned in something feral and mad.
Ice flared across the courtyard stones in jagged veins, creeping higher up the legs of several maids until they stood frozen like grotesque sculptures. Yvonne stared, disbelief clawing at the back of her throat. How was he doing this?
