The guards stationed near the gate stood idly, their lanterns casting flickering light on the stone wall behind them. Faouzia stumbled toward them, gasping for breath, her words spilling out in a hurried stream.

“There’s a devil,” she said, her voice cracking. “In the grove. A devil with a woman—my cousin. He’s seducing her, corrupting her. You have to act. Now!”

The guards exchanged uneasy glances. One of them stepped forward, frowning. “What are you saying, woman? Speak plainly.”

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Faouzia straightened, her breath still uneven but her resolve hardening. “A devil disguised as a man. He’s with her right now. If you wait, he’ll vanish. Please—you must act!”

Her urgency was contagious. The guards muttered amongst themselves before calling for reinforcements. As they gathered their weapons, Faouzia stepped back, clutching her cloak tightly around her shoulders. A part of her screamed to stop them, to undo what she had just set in motion. But she silenced it, telling herself she had no choice. This was the only way to save Margaretta. Wasn’t it?

The sound of boots and clinking armor filled the air as the guards marched toward the grove. Faouzia didn’t follow. She stayed at the gates, her hands trembling as she watched their torches disappear into the trees.