92: 92 What Do You Want?

92 What Do You Want?

Catherine's POV 0

"Open the door," I said softly to the soldier guarding the prison cell.

"Miss, I'm sorry, but we can't grant your request," the guard in black armor glanced at me and continued, "I apologize, but this is not a place you should be."

I wasn't surprised by his attitude. I guess many people, especially nobles like me, have made similar requests before. After all, this was the most special prison in the imperial city, the Black Tower.

The Black Tower stood at the far west of the city, and ordinary residents might not even know what it was, thinking it was just a simple building. But we nobles knew that the Black Tower was the chain hanging around the necks of the werewolf aristocracy. It existed before the palace itself, established by the first Werewolf King to detain prestigious prisoners, like my brother, William's son - Lancaster.

"Of course, I wouldn't come here for no reason," I stared directly into the guard's eyes, taking out the pass with Bud's seal from my pocket.

"You should recognize this thing," I handed him the pass. Bud was a general, and the guards of the Black Tower were under his command. Thus, a pass with Bud's seal was unquestionably valid.

As expected, the guard's stern expression finally softened. Hesitantly, he took the pass from my hand, and the bright red seal with Bud's stamp was unmistakable. He examined it for a moment, and finally, at my urging, opened the massive door to the Black Tower.

After the Black Tower's door opened, I expected to see numerous prison cells, but what greeted my eyes was an empty hall with only a central, spiraling staircase leading straight up to the top of the tower. There was a small window there, offering a glimpse of the moon.

Holding up the lamp, I stepped into the Black Tower. The guard closed the massive door, leaving me with only the light in my hand and the faint moonlight pouring in from the tower's top. The entire Black Tower stood isolated, as if it were erected within the densest darkness, cut off from the world.

"Pat, pat." I walked slowly towards the staircase. The empty hall echoed with the rhythmic beat of my footsteps, resembling the ticking of a clock.

Apart from its extraordinary length, the circular staircase had nothing special about it. It was simply a wooden-carved staircase, showing signs of wear and tear due to its age, with railings and planks showing signs of breakage from years of use.

So, of course, the prison cells were not on this level.

I raised the lamp and brought its dim light close to the floor. As expected, a wooden plaque engraved with the name "Andy" was silently placed on a movable floor tile.

Andy? I pondered for a moment, digging up this name from my childhood memories. I had heard that he was a famous knight who became a tragic traitor during the war with vampires, lured by the wealth and beauty offered by the vampires, and was subsequently imprisoned in the Black Tower by the then-king, never to be released.

Now, with the wooden plaque bearing the werewolf's name already half-decayed, he was still confined to the dungeon-like cell within the Black Tower. The thought that Lancaster might be just like this werewolf filled me with an irresistible smile.

However, I had no need to suppress it here. No one knew I had come, not even Bud. After all, taking something from a sleeping person beside me was incredibly easy.

I strolled through the darkness of the tower, using the lamp's light to illuminate the rows of names on the floor. It felt as if I were night-wandering in a graveyard.

"Dorn, Myers, Fitch, Bowen, Nick, Lancaster.. Ah, there it is." I passed by the irrelevant names and arrived at Lancaster's wooden plaque.

I lifted the movable wooden plank on the ground, revealing an entrance leading underground. I looked at the spiraling stone stairs descending before me and smirked. This was the true interior of the Black Tower.

Holding up the lamp, I slowly descended the stone stairs. As I moved, the walls on both sides automatically lit up with eerie, green flames. The underground air was not murky; instead, it carried a peculiar scent, reminiscent of precious spices.

The corridor appeared less dark under the glow of the green flames, but it was eerily quiet. Only the faint crackling of my lamp filled the air as it burned.

The stone stairs kept going down until a half-concealed iron door suddenly appeared in front of me. I arched an eyebrow. It seemed that I had finally reached my destination.

My slender fingers gently pressed against the handle of the iron door, and with a slight force, the door opened. Before me stood the prison cell guarding Lancaster.

The iron door's hinges emitted a rusty and grating sound.

"Father!" Lancaster's familiar voice, as annoying as ever, shouted loudly, "I don't want to be locked in here anymore. When will you let me out?"

I remained silent and coldly smiled.

The iron door swung open fully, and everything within the cell came into view. Contrary to my expectations, it was not as cramped as I thought; instead, it was quite spacious. A quick scan revealed that, apart from lacking windows, it was not much different from Lancaster's bedroom in the castle, just less luxurious.

Candles in all four corners of the room burned steadily, casting a stable light. My gaze passed over the tables, chairs, and benches until it was drawn to a white figure bound by several chains on the large bed.

"Father! I've had enough of this place! I want to get out!!!" Lancaster continued to struggle on the bed, his limbs bound by thick iron chains that clanged with every movement.

"Lancaster". I couldn't stand his incessant yelling, so I leaned down to his ear and pronounced his name.

He froze.

"Do you remember me? Who am I?" I relished seeing his body starting to tremble. His lips moved several times, but no words came out. Finally, he whispered hoarsely, like a cornered wild dog, "Catherine?!"

I sat on the chair by the bedside, knowing it was the same chair where my esteemed father, Elder William, had sat. The chair, adorned with luxurious golden thread and velvet backrest, seemed out of place in this dim and simple surroundings.

"Catherine, what do you want?" Lancaster yelled again, his breath rapid, his chest heaving violently, and his voice quivering.

"What do I want?" I placed my palm on his injured body, running my fingers over his wounds. His entire body, including his head, was wrapped in white cotton cloth, leaving only his mouth and nose exposed for breathing and speaking. Lancaster was covered in injuries from the attack by the White Bone Wolves, not to mention the almost fatal stab delivered by Delia to his chest. It was a miracle that he could lie here and speak at all.

Of course, this miracle came at a price, including me.

As I reached this point, I let out a cold laugh, mixed with sarcasm and hatred, and said, "Of course, I've come to kill you, my dear brother. You've known that, haven't you?"

I tore open the bandages covering his chest, exposing the wounds that were already scabbed over. My sharp nails dug deep into the healing gashes, and fresh blood stained my crimson fingertips, resembling the petals of a rose.

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