Crimson - Keep Introspurt

"Release them," he said.

The messenger froze. "My lord?"

Behind him, a messenger cleared his throat. "My lord? The prisoners await your judgment." crimson keep introspurt

Lord Valerius stood on the obsidian balcony, gauntlets gripping the rail. Below, the courtyard bustled with soldiers sharpening blades, servants hauling braziers, the endless machinery of a fortress built to bleed. He had commanded this place for thirty years. He knew every murder hole, every sally port, every brick that wept rust-colored seepage after rain. "Release them," he said

The introspurt receded as quickly as it came, leaving only the cold stone and the weight of a crown too red to wear. Valerius looked at his hands. They were empty. They had always been empty. "My lord

And yet, in a sudden introspurt —a violent, unwelcome rush of clarity that pierced his mental armor like a bodkin arrow—he realized he could not remember the color of his mother's eyes.