The silence in the room thickened, coiled like smoke.
Kasmeri lay on the ground, breath ragged beneath the weight of the masked figure. Then the pressure eased, and the stranger rose fluidly, standing tall before the king.
"Rise," King Heimdal commanded. Kasmeri struggled to get up as his hands were bound by a rope. The more he tried to untie it, the tighter it became.
Heimdal remained still, one hand resting over the subtle ache in his chest, the other gripping the hilt of a ceremonial dagger hidden beneath his robe. His eyes never left Kasmeri.
"Why did you return? Aren't you scared of the consequence?" the king finally said to the black clad man before him.
"If I hadn't come, then wouldn't you become a corpse?" He snickered. "What do you intend to do with him?" He gestured to the man who had just stood.
