Chapter 84. A Captured King

Elliot's POV

The acrid stench of defeat seeps into my nostrils, a pungent reminder of the chaos that has just unfolded within these once-regal walls. My brother's eyes, those pits of despair and malice, stare vacantly at the mosaic floor, his crown- a twisted metal carcass- lying discarded beside him. I stand over Nathan, feeling the weight of decades of his tyranny like chains around my own ankles.

"Elliot," he rasps, his voice a ghost of its former command. "You wouldn't dare."

But I am done with dares and the cruel games we played as children that turned all too real. The time for words has passed; the time for action is now. With a gesture, the guards seize his arms, their chainmail clinking in a discordant symphony.

"Take him to the dungeon," I command, my voice resonating through the throne room, the echo bouncing off cold stone walls that have witnessed too much sorrow under his rule.

Nathan struggles