She looked up when we approached. Something crossed her face. Pain. Grief. Relief.
“Sebastian,” she whispered.
“Élodie.” I stopped at the bars. Couldn't make myself get closer.
“I didn't think you'd come.”
“I needed to see you. Needed to understand why.”
“Why?” She laughed. Hollow. “I told you why. Power. Control. Everything I was never allowed to have.”
“Was it worth it?”
The question hung between us. Heavy. Final.
“No.” She said it quietly. “I thought it would be. I thought ruling from the shadows would be enough. That shaping the kingdom would fill the hole.” She looked at her hands. “But all I feel is empty.”
“Good.” I didn't mean for it to come out harsh. But it did. “You should feel empty. You should feel everything you took from me. From us.”
“I know.” Tears streaked her face. “I loved you, Sebastian. I really did. That part wasn't a lie.”
“It doesn't matter.” And it didn't. The love was real. The betrayal was realer. “Love without loyalty is just another weapon.”
“What happens to me?” She looked up. Eyes red. Broken. “Death?”
I thought about it. Imagined her execution. Her blood paying for my mother's. For eighteen years of lies.
It would be justice.
It would be what she deserved.
But it would also be what she wanted. An end. Peace. Freedom from the weight of what she'd done.
“No,” I said. “You get to live. You get to sit in this cell and remember everything you did. Everyone you betrayed. Every choice that led you here.” I paused. “You get to survive long enough to understand what you destroyed.”
Her face crumpled. “Sebastian, please?—”
“No mercy.” I cut her off. “You wanted power. You wanted control. This is what you get instead. A cell. Guards who won't speak to you. Decades to reflect on whether it was worth it.”
“I'm sorry.” She sobbed it. “I'm so sorry. Please. Please just kill me. Don't make me?—”
“You don't get to choose.” I turned away. “You get to live with what you've done. That's your punishment. That's your justice.”
I walked away. Viktor beside me. My father behind us.
Her sobs followed us down the corridor. Echoing off stone. Growing fainter.
I didn't look back.
We emerged into sunlight.Real sunlight. Warm and bright and alive.
“Are you all right?” Viktor asked.
“No.” I leaned against him. Let him take my weight. “But I will be.”
“That was mercy.” My father's voice. “Letting them live.”
“That was cruelty.” I corrected. “Death is mercy. Living with what you've done is punishment.”
