"Until now."
All heads snapped up with renewed interest, and they waited expectantly for Vale's next words.
"Bring the prisoner," he commanded.
A young woman, hardly more than a girl, dressed in black robes, was escorted into the hall, flanked by armed guards, her wrists manacled by heavy iron. Despite her situation, the young woman tried to carry herself with dignity. Her pale complexion and raven-haired beauty were made all the more disturbing by her eyes, which were as black as obsidian. With misgiving, and an unfamiliar rebelliousness stirring within her spirit, Lily noted with resentment that the girl was
gagged, and that a dark bruise marred her left temple.
"I give you a witch from the Island of Dragons," said Vale.
Sensing something abominable in the air, Lily found herself standing. The room fell silent. All eyes were focused on the two of them as they regarded each other. The prisoner's eyes had gone wide with shock and fear upon seeing Lily.
Watching this interplay with some unspoken anticipation, if not a barely concealed grim satisfaction, Vale licked his lips, seemed about to speak, then apparently changed his mind and said something else entirely. Ignoring Lily, he said, "This witch was captured from a ship which had sailed from the Island of Dragons to the shores of the Burning Lands. She was taken, at great cost, I might add, without the crew's knowledge.