The silence that fell over the Great Hall of Blackwood Keep was absolute, broken only by the crackle of burning logs and the muffled sobs of the court ladies. Rowan lay motionless upon the dais, his skin ice-cold, his pulse completely extinguished. The black rot of the Tear of the Void was creeping up his neck toward his jaw, leaving behind veins of petrified charcoal flesh. Prince Elijah knelt beside…
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