It was dark in the castle's dungeon, with little sounds besides the occasional drip echoing in the distance. The prisoners there didn't dare to speak much, for reasons very clear. One prisoner did release a groan from time to time, not because she was being tortured, though. At least not yet.

Annabelle Tyler, the outlaw who tried to assassinate the king, was still in pain from the wound in her arm she had gained after the Woodsman who arrested her shot an arrow through it. She had to admit that the medicinal practices she had gone through were good. But Annabelle knew exactly why she had been treated so well. They wanted her to be as healthy as possible until the interrogation would take place. A dead prisoner would tell nothing. Though Annabelle had the feeling that whoever would interrogate her was going to use the wound as a way to torture her, along with whatever other methods they had planned.

The outlaw held no illusions that she would live. It wasn't like she wasn't afraid of dying, because she was. But there were still things in this world dying for. And maybe she could do something before she was executed.

Perhaps the King doesn't need to be dead for his family to turn against one another.