Soon after the handmaiden left, Owen wasted no time. Not wanting to leave his mother alone even a moment longer, he tried to leave his room—but the guard stationed there immediately blocked his path.

  He hesitated. Perhaps he could use his gift; until now, only his father had noticed his mental intrusions.

  He focused, reaching into the guard’s mind, searching through his memories. Very quickly, one image stood out: the man, beaming, surrounded by his family, a child in his arms—a powerful memory.

  Owen held onto it, then allowed the punishments his father inflicted on disobedient subjects to rise in his mind. The image warped, becoming terrible: the guard’s family shattered by the Emperor.

  The shock was immediate. The man flinched, brought his hands to his head, and let out a strangled cry. His eyes glazed over. He staggered back against the wall, nearly collapsing to the floor.

  For a long moment, he remained there—panting, trembling, trapped in a waking nightmare.

  Owen waited for the right moment, heart pounding, then slipped silently into the corridor. For now, the guard would not pursue him.

  The floor was dark despite the faint glow of torches and chandeliers. The palace lay silent, its residents fast asleep. Owen pressed along the walls without a sound. Thanks to his power, he could sense the guards’ positions even with his eyes closed, and he avoided them effortlessly.

  The palace was vast and intricate, with several floors and underground levels. It was easy to become lost. His room and his father’s lay on the same level; his mother’s was one floor above. To reach the dungeons, he would need to descend to the lower levels.

  He went down several staircases, passed through numerous doors, avoiding patrols, until he reached the dungeon corridor. His stomach tightened, and he held his breath.

  ???

  In the dungeons, a girl lay half?reclined on a straw mattress directly on the floor, attempting to sleep. The cell was too small even to stretch properly. The air was as cold as the damp stone beneath her. Only a dying torch offered the slightest glimmer of light in this hell of solitude. Noises came from rats and other creatures scavenging for scraps of food.

  The smell was foul, a mixture of mold and ammonia that made breathing difficult. A few prisoners in neighboring cells coughed incessantly. Day and night, groans and cries echoed through the darkness. The only visitors were guards delivering the meager daily rations—just enough to survive.

  The girl shivered from cold and hunger. Unlike other prisoners, her handmaiden brought her meals personally. Yet that was the only allowance: she could not enter the cell or speak to her. The girl had been unable to change her clothes or wash since being unjustly cast into the dungeon. The conditions were so intolerable that many prisoners eventually descended into madness.

  She thought back to the days she had spent alone in her room after her injury and separation from her son, stifling a bitter laugh. At least then, she had all she needed: comfort, warmth, and hygiene.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  As she forced herself to keep her eyes closed, refusing to succumb to fear, a creaking sound echoed through the silence. She recognized it, though it was rare to hear at night.

  A door opened, and she heard the familiar voice of a guard from the corridor. Intrigued, she kept her eyelids shut tight, straining to listen between distant screams, attempting to catch the words. She heard a muffled groan, then silence. No one else spoke. Whom had the guard been addressing?

  Several minutes passed uneventfully. Disappointed, she relaxed her focus and tried again to sleep. Slowly, however, the dungeon door opened once more, the creak muffled as if deliberately softened. She opened her eyes.

  At the top of the steps, a silver?haired silhouette appeared. In the dim torchlight, she could not discern the face. The first thought that came to her mind was the Emperor—perhaps he had come to take her back, or, on the contrary, to end her suffering once and for all.

  The figure descended the steps, moved before her cell, and dropped to its knees, trembling. It was far too small to be the Emperor.

  “Owen?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Mom… I’m sorry… forgive me… it’s my fault…” Owen sobbed.

  His mother straightened, sliding her freezing hands through the bars to grasp his, still warm.

  “No, sweetheart,” she said sadly. “It’s not your fault. You have nothing to blame yourself for. Tell me—are you hurt?”

  He shook his head.

  “Good… I’m glad,” she continued, sighing with relief. “How did you get here? If they find out… if he finds out you came…”

  “Mom… I’ve made a decision.”

  “A decision?”

  “I can’t protect you from him. I’m not strong enough. So I’m going to find a way… for us to escape. I’ll get you out of here.”

  The girl said nothing. She studied him closely, though the backlight obscured his eyes.

  “Owen… I… I’m grateful that you worry for me. But… you cannot take such a risk. You saw it yourself: he could kill you. He is capable of it.”

  “No, Mom. It’s true that he… hurt me. But… he was holding back. I felt it. And also… he said I was like him, so… maybe… I can’t die?”

  At those words, a shiver ran down her spine. What had happened had not been enough to discourage him; he still sought to protect her, even at the risk of his own life.

  “I’m sorry, Owen. None of this would have happened if I weren’t so weak. Take care of yourself and stay safe. That is all I want, you know?”

  “Mom…”

  “Please, Owen. Listen to me. Go back to your room, obey as you’re told, and all will be well. He won’t leave me here forever, I’m sure of it. We will see each other again soon. I love you, Owen. Be careful.”

  Realizing she would not change her mind, he said nothing. After a long moment, he moved away and left the dungeon. As he passed through the door, his mother heard a whispered, “I love you.”

  Sitting against the bars of her cell, she remained alone in the darkness, lost in thought, a sad smile on her lips. This unexpected visit had warmed her heart, yet she could not help fearing the future even more.