The Breaking — Chapter 8

Early summer. The afternoon sunshine pours into your bedchamber now that the iron shutters over the windows have been unlocked and pulled aside. I'm sprawled on your bed, reading a scroll, when the outer door to your chambers slams shut with such violence that the mattress jumps beneath me. The footsteps echoing closer fill me with dread. Rage is on its way, and I won't have long to prepare myself to meet it.