Fashire’s Punishment III

¬ HILN

My head swam and I felt like a pariah on display. The dampness of sweat clung to my palm, and the impulse to break free from Lord Iacob's grip and flee down the stairs surged through me like a torrent.

Rather than fleeing, my legs followed as Lord Iacob pulled me towards the grand dining table. My heart was a dull throb against my eardrums, its rhythm a foreboding drumbeat heralding an impending reckoning.

The King turned his attention to me and the grave scowl on his face made my skin crawl. I felt severe discomfort being near him and I planted my feet down, unwilling to move any further. 

Not even when Lord Iacob pulled. 

He halted, turning to look at me. Surprise flickered in his eyes as he attempted to make sense of the situation.