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70 | The Cold Prison

A few days earlier, in Frostwyn.

In his life of not yet twenty years, Will had never set foot in a prison. But the prison in Frostwyn was the coldest he knew. With floors and walls frozen, the air was so dry it was difficult to breathe. From distances that felt too close, Will could hear someone's groans and the sound of their breath. But he couldn't see anything except the dim lights far away.

Will tightened his formal cloak, trying hard to maintain his expression as Dravon turned towards him. Whatever he felt at the moment, all the fear and discomfort he felt now, Will wouldn't show it. Because he knew Dravon was more hurt by being in this place.

Nevertheless, Will's poker face wouldn't deceive anyone. Without a word, Dravon took off his torn cloak and draped it over Will's shoulder.

"Sorry," Dravon finally said. "For putting you in this position."

"Well," Will shrugged on Dravon's formal cloak onto his back, grateful that at least the cloak was warm enough for him. "Given how dire
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