Kingdom of Ash

Torches flickered, the chamber empty save
for a worktable against one wall.
And her uncle, bound in thick irons, seated
on a wooden chair.
His finery was worn, his dark hair
unkempt, as if he’d struggled while they’d
bound him. Indeed, blood crusted one of his
nostrils, his nose swollen.
Shattered.
A glance to her right confirmed the blood
on Lorcan’s knuckles.
Vernon straightened as Elide stopped
several feet away, the door shutting, Lorcan
and Aelin mere steps behind. The others
remained in the hall.
“What mighty company you keep these
days, Elide,” Vernon said.
That voice. Even with the broken nose, that
silky, horrible voice raked talons along her
skin.